Page 23 of Secrets of Riverside

Taking her hands, he wrapped her arms around him so she was nestled up against him. ‘I’m going to gradually ease him into a gallop, so make sure you hold on nice and tight.’

Would she ever! ‘Will do.’ All bared flesh and rippling muscle, this hell of a man felt mind-blowingly awesome to be pressed up against.

Jarrah did as promised and eased his horse into a gentle trot, then a canter, and then they were off, galloping across the paddocks with the wind whipping past them. Finding her rhythm and tuning it with the magnificent gait of the stockhorse soaring towards home, she relaxed into the saddle, and also into Jarrah. Closing her eyes, she savoured the sounds and sensations that came with riding a horse. The liberating feelings swirling in her heart and soul took over as everything else faded away – all the worry, pain, grief and guilt. Leaving just her, Jarrah, Waylon and Scruff. Four souls bonded in this moment of bliss. She’d long forgotten, up until now, just how much spending time in the saddle meant to her, as did losing herself in Mother Nature’s rawest of heartbeats. The past fifteen years she’d given up so much of what brought her joy, because she’d believed she didn’t deserve any, as the only one that had lived. The immense pleasure she was experiencing right now was a potent reminder of what she’d given up. She needed to do more of what she loved. More of what made her smile. Just, more. And this moreish man she was leaning into was so warm, so welcoming, so comforting, so real, so darn sexy. This would be a shared moment in time that she was going to cherish forever, she was certain of it.

***

From the comfort of his camp chair, beneath the star-spangled velvet-black sky, with one of the most fascinating women he’d ever met sitting beside him and his third beer in hand, Jarrah suppressed an almighty grin as he thought back to that morning. Although awkward at the time, it had been the icebreaker that he and Millie had needed. There he’d been, taking a rare moment out of his day to slow down and catch a breath. And there she’d been, as naked as the day she’d been born, lost in her own little world while she’d enjoyed a dip in the river. He’d almost turned and crept away, left her in solitude, but this woman stirred something deep inside of him, something he liked the feel of, so before he could go and change his mind he’d stepped forwards, instead of retreating, and quickly made himself known. And now, in spite of her moment of embarrassment, he was glad that he had. It had given them time to draw a little closer, to be friends instead of awkward strangers.

The heat of the campfire warmed his skin, bringing him back into the present. Letting go of his contemplations, he found himself mesmerised by the twirls of the flames in the same way that Millie captivated him. He snuck a look in her direction, and she caught him. There was a flicker of apprehension in her green eyes before the glimmer of the flames was mirrored within them and she graced him with a soft, sleepy smile. He offered her one in return. Then stifled a yawn. As tired as he was, he wasn’t going to be the first one to end what had been a lovely evening. They’d contentedly chatted while making a garden salad, buttering bread rolls and barbecuing sausages, and then sat in a comfy silence as they’d devoured everything. Then, after clearing up, they’d chatted some more, about trivial things, and although he’d enjoyed the free-flowing conversation, he was craving to dive deeper, to learn more about who she was, where she’d come from and what made her tick. He sensed he’d have to tread carefully, and choose his questions wisely; he didn’t want to risk chasing her away to hide in her bedroom like she had the past couple of nights, because he was thoroughly enjoying every second with her. Maybe a little too much. But he couldn’t help himself. She was enthralling.

‘So, Millie, do you have any brothers or sisters?’ He kept his tone casual.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, as if she was about to reply, but then she seemed to stop herself. ‘Nope.’

He wished he could see the expression on her face, but she’d tilted her head away and her face was shadowed. ‘An only child then, huh?’

‘Mmm, you could say that.’

‘Me too, I mean, since my brother passed away ten years ago.’ He wasn’t about to let her know how. What would she think of him, being the son of a mobster?

‘I’m so sorry, Jarrah.’ She turned to him now and smiled sadly. ‘That makes us two peas in a pod, then.’

Unsure as to whether she meant she’d always been an only child, or that her brother had passed away too, he picked at his beer label, thankful she didn’t ask how his had died, and wondering what to say next. ‘How about your parents, are they still together?’

‘My parents are both dead.’ The punch of her words didn’t match the monotone of her voice.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, Millie.’ His stomach tightened – she’d clearly lived with the grief of their loss for a long while. ‘How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘In an accident.’ She sucked in a sharp breath and then turned to him, blinking faster. ‘To be honest, I don’t really like to talk about it.’

She’d clearly been through hell and back, and he was inadvertently dredging it all up. And was that the glimmer of tears he saw in her eyes? Oh god no, he’d rather be chained and whipped than witness her in such heartbreaking pain.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered in response to his momentary silence.

‘Oh, please, don’t apologise.’ His instincts were to reach out to her, so he could pull her into his arms and soothe away the deep heartache written within her gaze. ‘Trust me, I get it.’ He heaved a weighty sigh as he fought to keep his hands to himself – it was way too soon in their newly formed friendship to embrace her. ‘There’s a lot I don’t like to talk about either.’

‘Yeah, I think everyone has their secrets.’ Her voice was softly soothing.

He did his best to match her tender tone, wanting her to feel just as much at ease, and at peace, as she was making him feel right now. ‘Of course they do, and they’d be lying if they said they didn’t.’

‘Truth.’ She nodded while covering a yawn. ‘I think it’s time for me to head to bed, Jarrah, especially seeing as it’s my first day in the kitchen tomorrow and I want to make a good impression on Tommy.’ She stood. ‘Thanks for a lovely evening.’

‘You’re very welcome. I really enjoyed getting to know you a little better.’ He rose from his chair, liking the way she was now looking up at him from beneath her lashes. ‘I’m going to hit the sack too, so I’ll walk you in.’

‘Always the gentleman, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t know about always, but I try to be.’

Side by side, they wandered along the garden path, up the stairs, and with Scruff lumbering over to his hammock bed, into the homestead, where Jarrah bid her goodnight then headed off to his bedroom to hopefully spend the night dreaming of her.

CHAPTER

8

Up at sparrow’s fart, as her dear mum would have said, with two coffees under her belt and a gritty determination to make the best of an awkward situation, Millie made sure she was twenty minutes early for her very first shift at the Riverside Roadhouse, with her ideas for what she would cook folded and in her pocket. Jarrah had explained they’d have an hour of prep before the breakfast rush would hit them when Tommy opened the doors at seven, and she was keen to make a good first impression on the young man who seemed to have had quite a bad one of her from the get-go. As for the reasons behind Tommy’s judgement of her? Well, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow behind her being there in the first place.

Striding through the back screen door, to the hum of the local radio station playing from the speakers hung in the corners of the roadhouse, she met with her nemesis. ‘Morning, Tommy.’ She smiled as brightly as she could.

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