Chapter 19

Jules

“Hi, Dad! Merry Christmas!”

“Hi, sweetheart. Same to you, although it’s the twenty-sixth, there, huh?”

“Boxing Day, yes.”

“The Canadians call it that too, although I’ve never met one who could explain why.”

“Same here. As far as I can gather, it’s a lot like the Friday after Thanksgiving—leftovers, watching Netflix, and lounging about in a food coma. It’s also ninety-eight degrees today, so we’re inside with the A/C on.”

“I can’t even fathom that. It’s a balmy five degrees here today.”

As much as she missed her family, especially her dad, Jules was glad to be where she was. “So, what’s going on? The usual craziness?” she asked.

“You guessed it. I just finished cleaning up after breakfast.” She could imagine the giant spread—cinnamon rolls, pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Her dad’s Christmas Day breakfasts were legendary. “I think we’ll be opening presents soon.”

Jules knew the scene by heart—the giant scraggly Christmas tree decorated in popcorn and paper chains, just like when they were kids, surrounded by a mountain of presents which would turn into a mountain of discarded wrapping paper over the course of an hour. She’d always been someone who enjoyed the giving part more than the receiving, waiting to see the delight on her family’s faces as they unwrapped what she hoped were the perfect presents.

And not that she was ungrateful, but it was rare that she received something she wouldn’t buy for herself if she wanted it. Her best present last year had been from her dad. He’d gifted her a chunk of air miles, enough for an international flight. Actually, his gift had “paid” for her flight to Australia, but it was the thought that counted most to Jules, that message of, “I see you, that you need to go and explore this world. Here, go and see some of it on me.”

“Take photos for me, Dad?”

“For sure, sweetheart.”

“Especially of the tree,” she laughed. “How bad is it this year?” As much as her family Christmases felt claustrophobic at times, she cherished their tradition of finding the worst tree in the forest—one that no one else would want—then draping it in as many homemade decorations as possible. Chloe would have hated it, she realised, thinking of the department-store-ready tree that dominated the living room.

“We have hit optimal awfulness, an extremely poor specimen. But I think it may have baffled Lucy. I’m guessing from her reaction that you didn’t warn her.”

Jules laughed, “Oh, no, poor Lucy! I totally forgot about that.” The thought made a U-turn in her mind as she remembered that things weren’t right with Lucy—totally her doing. Feeling the sting of remorse, she added, “Hey, Dad, so how is Lucy?”

“Oh, sweetheart, if we can’t have you here, it’s almost as good having Lucy. She’s a doll.”

Jules gulped down the lump in her throat.

“Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

“Sure. Hold on.” She could tell her dad was on the move, because the screen blurred, and she had to look away so she didn’t get motion sickness.

Her mom’s face appeared on the screen. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“Oh, Mom, hi! Merry Christmas. You look beautiful.”

Her mom laughed off the compliment as she always did. “So how was your Aussie Christmas?” In her mom’s accent, it came out as “Oss-ee”.

“Great! Really different from home, though. Ash put on this awesome Christmas lunch. You’ll see when you check my Insta feed. We set this epic table and we all dressed up for a formal sit-down meal. We had ham, like at home, but everything else was a complete departure. We even had this massive platter of shrimp, or ‘prawns’, they say here. So good. Oh, and I baked my Christmas cookies. Total hit.” Her mom grinned at her.

“That sounds fun, honey. And what about Chloe’s friends? You’re having a good time?”

“Yeah, I mean, Ash’s been amazing, schlepping me about Melbourne. She’s almost as hard core with her organising as Chloe is, but all the heavy lifting’s over now, so hopefully she’ll just chill out for the next few days. There’s this whole thing with her ex that I won’t go into, but he was here yesterday, and he’s so sweet, and he’s obviously still into her … Anyway, I hope they figure it out.

“Oh, and we’re going away for a couple of days,” Jules added.

“You and Ash?”

“Yeah, and um, this guy, Matt. Actually, he’s a winemaker and we’re going to his vineyard.” She was playing it down, hoping her budding crush on Matt wasn’t too obvious, but her mom had always been able to tell when she was hiding something—like her feelings. “I miss you, Mom,” she said spontaneously.

“We miss you too, honey. Did you want to say hello to your brother? He’s right here.”

“Oh yeah, sure, but actually … I thought Dad was handing me over to Lucy.”

Her mom looked off screen, her face instantly readable. Lucy was there, in the room, but didn’t want to come to the phone.

Her best friend didn’t want to talk to her.

Her mom made some lame excuse that didn’t really register, then the phone was passed to Will. “Hey, Jules. Merry Christmas.”

“And to you!” she said brightly as she faked a smile. The phone was on the move again and Jules waited, uneasy, for her brother’s face to reappear.

“Hey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Jules saw that he was back in the kitchen and she tried to concentrate on the mundaneness of his surroundings, dreading what she knew was going to come out of his mouth. Oh look, they got a new kettle. That must be for Lucy.

“So, Jules, Lucy, man, she’s …” Yep. He’d gone straight to where she knew he would.

“She is, isn’t she?” Her brother’s grin nearly broke her heart. He was already in deep.

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, look, it’s really new, but I don’t know, I feel something, something … and uh, it’s …” He blew out a breath, the smile growing bigger if that was even possible. “It’s, well, you know …?”

Her brother was babbling, yet everything he was thinking and feeling was right there on the screen. Yep, she had totally screwed this up. She really needed to talk to Lucy and make things right.

*

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Jules was packing her carry-on bag for the weekend at Matt’s vineyard. He was due in the next half-hour to collect her.

“Nah, I’m good,” replied Ash from the doorway. “Besides, you don’t want me being a third wheel.” Ash climbed on the bed and hugged one of the throw pillows.

Jules stopped in the middle of folding a T-shirt. “Had you ever intended on coming?” She fixed Ash with a look, but she seemed wholly absorbed in the tassels on the pillow. “Ash, hello?”

“Sprung,” Ash grinned with a shrug, “You guys are cute together, you know.”

“Cute?” Another shrug. Jules finished folding the T-shirt and tucked it into her carry-on.

“Chloe and I had a hunch that you guys might like each other.”

“What, seriously? Chloe was in on this? And if you shrug one more time …”

Ash’s shoulders made it halfway to her ears and dropped. “Look, I’m not going to apologise. I mean, why would I? Matt’s been single for a while, you’ve apparently been single for, well, forever according to Chloe, and what’s the harm in a little holiday fling?”

“Your argument is flawless,” Jules teased. “Did Chloe really say I’d been single for forever?”

“Yeah. So, what does that mean? How long are we talking here?”

“Well, it depends. Are you asking about a relationship or sex?”

“Both, either—no, both.”

“My last serious relationship was in my early twenties.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why so long ago?”

“That was when my parents split up. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the dots. I just saw what it did to the two of them, especially my dad. And yeah, they’re friends now, like I said, but my dad was devastated back then. I know he thinks he hid that from me, but I was dialled into it.”

“But it hasn’t been that long since you had sex, right?”

“No, definitely not, but it’s usually with guys I don’t like all that much. Easier that way. Distant, you know?”

Ash stared at a tassel, flipping it between her fingers. Jules paused her packing. Was all this talk about relationships and sex even a good idea with Ash still hurting over Davo?

And what about her and Matt?

She’d been toying with the idea of a fling with the hot winemaker since her first day in Melbourne. But that was before she’d got to know him, before the beach and the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, before the lingering cheek kisses and the easy conversation. Before she saw those dimples. Before he was Matt.

Jules stared at her carry-on, now packed, then sat heavily on the end of the bed. “Is this a terrible idea?”

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Going to the vineyard. Just the two of us.”

“No, it’ll be fun.”

“That’s what I mean. I think Matt and I might be beyond ‘fun’.” She made the air quotes. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I’d be kidding myself if I said it was just physical. He’s …” She stared at her hands in her lap.

“There’s something there.”

“Yeah. And I don’t want to start something that’s more than a fling. Especially ’cause this time next week, I won’t even be here. That’s not fair on Matt.”

“But how fair is it not to see?” Jules’s head popped up. “On you or Matt?” Ash leant forward and stared at her intently. “What if he’s your person, you know?”

Jules did know, yes. She’d had that once—her person—and it had all imploded. She’d fudged the truth about her last relationship. He had cheated. She’d been devastated about her family breaking in two, and instead of being there for her, he’d fricking cheated.

The knot in her stomach twisted tighter.

“One of us has to be brave,” Ash whispered.

Jules met her eyes. They were shining again, and Jules didn’t need to ask why. She reached over and squeezed Ash’s hand. Right here was the perfect example of what happened when you let fear rule your heart.

“Oh, to hell with it. I’m going!”

Ash sprung off the bed and clapped. Maybe living vicariously through her was as close as Ash wanted to get to love, Jules thought.

*

“He likes you.”

Dexter, Matt’s border collie, was covering Jules’s face with dog kisses, then running between them and leaping into the air. Her throaty laugh quickly turned to squeals of delight. Had a dog ever been this excited to meet her?

“Dex, off!” Matt reached down and offered her a hand, then pulled her to her feet. Dexter did exactly as he was told and lay at Matt’s feet panting from the excitement. “Sorry ’bout that.”

“No, no I love it.” She reached down and scratched under Dexter’s chin. “You love it too, don’t you, you beautiful boy?” Dexter smiled at her and she laughed again. “See? We’re already the best of friends.”

Matt chuckled. “You’ve gotta know that he’s not like this with everyone. One of our distribution guys, Wayne—well, Dex isn’t a fan of his. Oh, hey, did you see that? Watch.” They both watched Dexter’s face and Matt said, “Wayne,” again. Dexter stood and gave a sharp bark, and Matt threw his head back and laughed.

Jules grinned at the pair of them. “So, I guess you have to spell his name out now, huh?”

“I dunno, he’s pretty clever.”

“Who, Dexter or Wayne? Oops.” She clamped a hand over her mouth right as Dexter barked again. “Sorry.” She giggled through her fingers.

Matt petted his dog on the head. “Actually, he’s bang on. I’m not much of a fan of W-A-Y-N-E either. C’mon, let me show you around.”

He retrieved Jules’s carry-on and his duffel bag from the car and led the way inside.

“Oh, my god, I love this!”

“It’s home—a little rustic, but we like it, right Dex?” Matt set the bags down and Dexter responded to his question by curling up on a dog mat next to the couch.

The main room—a combined kitchen, living, and dining room—was light and airy with wooden floors, off-white walls and a high apex ceiling. A wall of windows looked out over gently rolling hills covered in neat rows of vines.

The modular couch invited lounging and a long, low, wooden coffee table offered a variety of activities—coffee-table books, a stack of novels, a chessboard, and a backgammon set.

The long wooden dining table looked like the perfect place to spend an evening with friends having dinner and playing board games, and the large kitchen had polished stone countertops and, not surprisingly, a built-in wine fridge.

And even though the room was spacious, it felt cosy, inviting. It was also super tidy.

“No, really, Matt, this place is awesome.” She walked over to the windows and looked out at the vines. “And this view … I bet you never get tired of this.”

He stood beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, she leant against him and breathed in his scent—woodsy and masculine. His fingertips gently stroked her arm. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said quietly.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Me too,” she whispered. She felt his head rest against hers and steadied her breath, a defiant move against her racing heart.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, or if perhaps they turned together, but his arm slid to her waist and she tipped her face to his as their mouths came together. His other hand found the nape of her neck, the touch of his fingers sending tingles down her spine as he pulled her closer. Their tongues flicked, tips touching, and she sank into the kiss.

Oh, yeah. This. Exactly this.

It was hard to know how much time passed, but eventually they broke apart. “Roawwrr.” They looked down as Dex raised his paw to Matt’s thigh.

They shared a look and grinned, then Matt bent over until he was face to face with Dexter, his hands ruffling Dexter’s fur. “I know, I like her too, bud.”

Oh, yeah, I’m a goner.

*

“That was delicious. You’re a good cook.” Jules put her cutlery down, then sat back against the wooden patio chair and regarded the beautiful vista of Matt’s vineyard. Rows of vines, all pruned, rolled over the shallow hills as far as she could see, and the property was bordered with eucalyptus trees. When Matt had taken her out on the quad bike earlier for a tour, Jules had kept an eye out for koalas, but no luck; apparently, they were rare in this part of the country.

Still, she’d snapped dozens of photos of the property and had posted a selection on Instagram tagging them with #Aussielife, #Aussiewinery, #naturebreak, #vineyard, and #justbreathe. She’d also sent a message to the girls on their chat thread:

Down at Matt’s place for the weekend. It’s so beautiful here. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in forever. My heart has been stolen by … Dexter the dog! He’s such a sweetheart. Matt is a sweetheart too—will fill you in when we talk. Horse riding tomorrow! J xx

She’d attached a couple of her photos, including one of Dexter looking out over the vineyard. Chloe had replied almost immediately:

Knew you’d love Matt’s place. And Dex. Give him a kiss for me. Dex, not Matt. Haha. Have fun horse riding and watch out for Matt. No repeat of Cabo! Love you. C

There hadn’t been a reply from Lucy, but Jules told herself that she was probably busy or asleep.

“Uh, I don’t know that I’d call myself a cook,” said Matt, “but I know my way around the barbie, and I can throw together a decent salad.”

“You got that right.” Jules reached over to the almost empty bowl, plucked a cherry tomato from the salad and popped it into her mouth. She groaned.

“That good, huh?” Matt teased. She nodded, closing her eyes and savouring the sweet tang of the tomato and the peppery olive oil—both from local producers, Matt had told her.

Jules swallowed her bite. “Seriously, dinner was amazing. We don’t eat a lot of lamb where I’m from. And, seriously, everything—I mean everything—tastes better here, you know? More intense, fresher. Maybe that’s just ’cause back home it’s winter and this time of year I tend to hibernate and live off takeout pizza and pot noodles.” Matt chuckled.

She stretched her arms above her head and inhaled deeply. “I love being here.” It was a rare moment for Jules, being totally unguarded, and she could almost feel herself sloughing off the layers of her staid existence. When she glanced back at Matt, she saw him watching her intently, a smile playing on his lips. “What?” she asked.

He reached across the corner of the table to capture her hand in his. “I’m glad you like it here. It’s not often we have guests.” He must have seen that she didn’t understand who he meant by “we” because he added, “Dexter and me.” At the sound of his name, Dexter lifted his head and looked at his master, his ears pricked and his eyes alert. Jules patted the top of his head and he plopped back down reassuming his position on the ground next to her chair.

Matt ran his thumb over her knuckles, his gaze following the movement of his thumb—a simple gesture that sent more of those tingles down her spine. It had been years since a man’s touch had affected her like that, and Jules luxuriated in the feeling.

Matt looked up at her. “I think it’s good for us having you here—well, good for me. You seem to notice all these little details, things I usually take for granted, things I don’t even see anymore.”

Jules was in two minds, one right there with Matt, taking in everything he was saying, and the other wondering who it was that he was describing. It certainly didn’t sound like her—or at least the Jules of late.

In an instant, a thousand memories flooded her mind at once.

Laughing at herself in a piazza in Italy, as she caught the scoop of gelato just before it hit the ground, then not knowing what to do with it—helpless with a hand full of gelato and her two best friends laughing along with her.

Racing Will to the bottom of a black diamond run and for the first time ever, beating her baby brother.

Singing loudly to Neil Diamond in the car with her mom, Aunt Jackie, Briony, and Bridget and laughing so hard when they got to the “bah, bah, bah,” part that she could barely breathe.

Playing backgammon with her dad up at the cabin when everyone else had gone snowshoeing and winning their best-of-three tournament, and her dad high fiving her, saying he was proud of her.

And a final thought, as she returned to the present …

Sitting on a patio in the middle of wine country in Victoria, Australia, with a thoughtful, sweet, and incredibly sexy man and his awesome dog.

Where the hell had this Jules been? The one who, like Matt said, appreciated the little things, who had a sense of adventure, who laughed easily, and didn’t sweat the small stuff.

“I’ve been a little stuck lately.” Matt’s words pulled her back to their conversation and she scoured his face for the meaning of his simple words.

“How so?” she asked, not prodding, just hoping her gentle tone conveyed that his secrets were safe with her.

“Just …” He sighed, taking back his hand. He fiddled with his paper napkin, tearing off shreds and rolling them between his fingers. He shot her a look that was intense and raw. “I have a good life, I do, but sometimes I feel like an observer, you know. Like there’s this guy Matt and he’s got his life set up a particular way, and he makes wine, and he travels a bit—not as much as he used to—and he sees his friends—also not as much as he used to.

“And it’s like, he’s here,” Matt held out his left hand, “and I’m over here.” He held his right hand apart from his left. “Like I’m an observer of my own life.”

His frankness had Jules captivated, but it was how he expressed exactly what she’d been feeling that tipped her over the edge.

He got it.

He got her.

Matt shook his head. “Sorry, that was …”

“No,” she said, protesting his apology. “I love that you …”

He spoke over her to finish his thought. “… A load of gobbledygook,” and the word made her laugh.

“Wait, sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m not, seriously. Just, ‘gobbledygook’? What even is that?” She started laughing harder, her hand lifting to her mouth. When she met Matt’s eyes, his were full of mirth and he joined in on the laughter, shaking his head at himself.

Jules laughed freely, long and hard, aware at some point that Matt’s laughter had died down and he was just watching her, an enchanted spectator of her amusement. “Yeah, yeah …” he said after a while. “Make fun of the Aussie.”

When her laughter subsided, she reached for his hand. “No, you are perfect.”

He started to brush off the compliment, but with Jules now knowing that Matt’s default was self-deprecation, she half-raised a hand. “Stop,” she said quietly. He stopped, his face suddenly a picture of seriousness. “You are. This place, you, Dexter, this is perfect for me. Right now. This is exactly where I am supposed to be.”

He frowned slightly, as though he was analysing her words, then he stood, pulling her up with him, and slipped his other arm around her waist. His eyes stared into hers, then he dipped his head to seize her mouth in a kiss. She tugged her hand free of his so she could reach her arms around his neck, her fingers caressing the soft curls at his nape.

His mouth was insistent, and when his tongue met hers, he tasted of wine and the gaminess of the lamb. His hand moved to the back of her head, cradling it as his lips pressed against hers, almost bruising them, a sweet kind of pain steeped in longing.

When the kiss broke, they were both breathing raspy breaths. “Do you want to go inside?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“God, yes,” she replied. He turned abruptly, clasping her hand in his and led her towards the sliding glass door.