Page 47 of Secrets of Riverside

With a heavy sigh he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. Especially not when thoughts of Millie and how she couldn’t get away from him quick enough were circling his mind. He didn’t want to regret telling her he liked her, but it was hard when her silence made him feel as though his feelings weren’t reciprocated. His only saving grace was his certainty that he couldn’t have imagined the powerful connection he’d felt with her when they’d become one beneath the starry sky. And the way she’d broken down and sobbed against him the night before. It was as if she did like him more than a friend, but couldn’t allow herself to admit it. It made him wonder if there was another reason, or reasons, she was shutting him out. Was she married? It would fit with her not wanting to give him her last name. Was it her husband she was running from, hiding from? Or were her secrets ones that would shock him to his very core?

Quit overthinking everything, King …

It had been a stupid idea, giving in to his craving to caress her every inch, but at the time, when she’d surrendered to his touch and given all of herself over to him with unbridled passion, he’d never felt so wanted, so uninhibited, so deeply moved. He could still hear her gasps, her sighs, could still feel her fingers trailing up his back, her nails digging into him as she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, and how she shuddered when he’d brought her to the peak of euphoria. Then the way she’d looked at him afterwards, with her head resting on his chest and her smile soft and dreamy, she’d completely and utterly won him over. He could still taste her sweetness and feel the beat of her heart pressed up against his, and as each day passed, all of this only made him ache for her more. There was a prowling need inside of him that she’d stirred to life, a need he wasn’t sure would ever be fulfilled without her being his lover, his companion, his – dare he think it – wife and mother of his children. He knew he wouldn’t just exist with her by his side. He’d live a full life with her. The kind of life that would leave a lingering smile upon his lips whenever it was that he took his last breath. And then he’d wait for her in the afterlife. He’d have to go first, because he wouldn’t be able to live on this earth without her. And yet he was facing that very miserable prospect with her leaving here, forever.

Ahhh, Millie, I want to know who you really are …

For now, he knew she was so much more intricate than he’d first imagined her to be. There were parts of her he already recognised and identified with on the deepest of levels, and yet there was so much more to learn, to know, to adore her for. Intimately, both physically and spiritually, she’d known just how to evoke the very parts of him that he’d buried down deep. Fragments of his former self that reminded him he was a man who longed for soul-deep love. The thought of never being able to experience such an intense, profound moment with her ever again made his heart echo with the same old emptiness that she had filled so exquisitely with her touch, her kiss, her whispers of desire.

With her memory as his only companion, he stretched out on his king-size bed and stared up at the ceiling, praying daylight would come soon so he could try and distract his thoughts with some hard labour. He knew there were way more things he should have said to her last night, could have said. But he’d found himself tongue-tied for fear of scaring her even more than his revelation of liking her did. How in the hell was he meant to put such complex emotions into words without sounding like a crazy man? He knew if Tommy got wind of his sentiments, and just how far he’d taken them the night of the rodeo, his nephew would be like a dog with a bone. And they had enough to sort out between them without adding this to the mix.

He needed to be very careful.

And he needed to get up and do some work, before he drove himself nuts.

Climbing out of his tousled bed, he did just that.

By midday, he’d worked himself to the bone, but Millie still occupied a large portion of his mind. Too weary to try and combat her possession of his thoughts any longer, he gave up the fight. It was a battle he was never going to win. And the same could be said for the situation with Tommy. It was going to be up to his nephew to make the right choices. There was nothing he was going to be able to do, or say, to stop Tommy entering into Carlo’s dark underworld if that’s what he wanted to do. Joey had been proof of that, and Tommy was so much like his father. Sadly, Jarrah’s instincts told him that Tommy was going to have to learn the hard way. He just hoped and prayed it wasn’t going to be with his life. Hopefully, fate would play its hand in ending the toxic relationship between grandfather and grandson before it grew into a poisonous, suffocating weed. God, how he hated his father with every fibre of his being – and he was certain that, unlike Millie, his father reciprocated his feelings.

Climbing behind the wheel of his LandCruiser, he then turned in a slow circle, making sure to be steady with the accelerator so he didn’t send dust spiralling out behind him and towards the homestead, where it would settle on everything in sight. After almost a week of dry weather, he needed some rain to help compact the dirt driveway, and by the looks of the black clouds marching over the mountains, a storm was on the way. Wanting the fresh air, he wound down his window, and by the time he’d driven past the roadhouse and motel rooms, rain-scented wind gusted in. He smiled to himself. The encroaching tropical storm wasn’t far off.

A gunshot rang out, echoing, reverberating.

What in the hell?

Another shot trailed the first and it came from the direction of the machinery shed. He floored the accelerator, hoping to god nobody was hurt, or worse. Skidding to a sliding stop, he killed the engine. Seconds later, Tommy strode past the bonnet, a saddle over one arm and a shotgun in his hand. His cocky gait didn’t scream emergency.

Jarrah rested his forearm on the windowsill. ‘Is everything okay here, Tommy?’

‘Yup, right as rain.’ Tommy just kept on walking. ‘Nothing to see here,’ he hollered over his shoulder.

‘Righto, smartarse,’ Jarrah grumbled. Sucking in a fortifying breath, he stepped out and followed Tommy into the shade of the shed. ‘Is there a problem I need to know about?’ He looked at the gun sceptically.

‘Why do you ask?’ Tommy dumped the saddle in his arms onto the sawhorse.

‘For Christ’s sake, half the town would have heard those two gunshots, Tommy.’

‘Oh, that.’ Tommy arched a sly brow as he unlocked and opened the door of the gun cabinet. ‘It was nothing.’ He placed the shotgun back and slammed the door shut, locking it again.

Jarrah bristled as he waited for Tommy to turn and face him. ‘Nothing?’

‘Yeah, nothing.’ Hands making fists at his sides, Tommy looked like he was fighting the urge to throw a punch.

‘You know the rules about guns here, Tommy.’ Jarrah was fighting to keep his tone cool, calm and collected. ‘We only get them out if the feral pigs become a danger to us, our livestock, or our customers.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Tommy plucked his phone out from his back pocket and began scrolling.

In another time, another place, Jarrah might have grabbed Tommy by his collar and made him listen up. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop from doing just that. ‘So what did you shoot at then?’

Tommy kept on scrolling as he shrugged. ‘A couple of empty cans.’

‘So let me get this straight.’ Adrenaline making it hard to stand still, Jarrah shifted from boot to boot. ‘You know the rules, but you decided to break them.’

Tommy shrugged again. ‘Looks that way.’

‘Bloody hell, Tommy, could you put your phone down for a minute.’ Jarrah heaved a sigh.

As he lifted his eyes, Tommy’s stare was frosty as he shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Right you are, boss man.’ There was a stubborn set to his jaw and a hint of loathing in his gaze.

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