Page 37 of Secrets of Riverside

‘It can be a bit cold when we’ve had a bit of rain.’ He felt a little cheeky, and ran with it. ‘Do you want another of my awesome nine out of ten hugs to warm you up?’

Her teeth chattered as she shook her head. ‘Nope, I reckon a good old-fashioned water fight would do the trick.’ She shoved a surge of water in his direction.

The spray hit him fair and square in the face.

‘Ha, shot or what, King!’ Grinning, she spun and swam in the opposite direction.

Laughing, he took off after her and submerged – he could swim faster beneath the surface. But Millie got the upper hand, and as he resurfaced, her aim was perfect. He tried to duck the incoming splashes, but every one of them hit their mark. Hooting and spluttering, he lunged for her, but she was faster, nimbler, and got out of his reach just in the nick of time. But he didn’t give up the energetic chase, and it was only when she was tiring that he finally got his hands on her. At first it was extremely playful, but then, before he knew it, they were wrapped around one another, Millie with her arms entwined around his neck and her legs tight around his waist as she tried to drag him beneath the water in an all-out tussle. Their laughter echoed and his longing for her intensified. And in that impassioned moment, with her beautiful body pressed up against his, he couldn’t help the way she made every inch of his body harden for her. To his surprise, she didn’t let go straight away, and instead stayed wrapped around him. With their jollity quickly subsiding, their gazes met and locked and the air around them shifted, intensified. Her lips parted ever so slightly, as if she wanted to say something, or tell him something. He craved to know exactly what it was, and more importantly, if he needed to be concerned about it. Or was she about to declare her feelings for him, so he could declare his for her? Could he? Would he? Should he?

‘Millie.’ He whispered her name and was about to say more when she brought a fingertip to his lips.

‘Shhh, don’t let words ruin this.’

He tried to read her thoughts. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Neither do I.’ She glanced at the ripples on the surface of the water, then back at him.

Her breath quickening, she regarded him as if she could see his most hidden thoughts. And she allowed him to do the same as the connection he already felt with her amplified, strengthened, merged. It was as if they’d each torn down their walls and their hearts and souls were now bared to the other’s. It made him feel vulnerable, but at the same time safe, because it was with her. There was a profound knowingness in her eyes, and a hunger that echoed his. His breath caught as flames of longing shot through her sultry, sensual regard of him. Why was he so hell-bent on holding back from her? She was what he’d always wanted, though he’d tried to make himself believe it would never happen. And right now, in their shared dreamlike moment, he craved her more than anything he’d ever desired in all his life. But just as he was about to go and do something really reckless, and kiss her like he damn well meant it, she loosened her arms and legs and swam away from him. Then, reaching the water’s edge, she went one step further and climbed out, sashayed over to her bag, grabbed a towel from its depths and dried off.

Following suit, Jarrah made sure to keep a little over an arm’s length from her. He didn’t want to risk any rash behaviour on his part, because right now, he didn’t trust himself. There was way too much unbridled heat coursing through his veins to be able to resist a brush of her skin, a whisper of her breath, or a simple touch as she spoke to him. But then she closed the distance and, stopping just short of him, she looked at him now, really looked at him, as if searching for the connection they’d both just undeniably felt. But why? What was she going to do with such a powerful connection? Likewise, what was he going to do with such a powerful connection?

Nothing, King, that’s what you need to do …

So he pretended to cough, and then rub something from his eyes.

‘Are you okay, Jarrah?’ She gently touched his arm.

‘Yeah, it’s just my hay fever playing up.’ He used the excuse to grab his towel from the ground so he could step away from her. ‘There must be something in the air.’ Unable to meet her eyes for fear of tumbling back into her, he rubbed the towel over his face.

She didn’t say anything, just got dressed, rolled up her towel, shoved it back into her bag, and then slung the backpack over her shoulder. ‘You want to head back to the homestead now?’ she finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

Oh god, he didn’t want this weird energy between them, but what was he meant to do? ‘Yeah, sure, and then I can start whipping us up some dinner.’

‘Sounds good, what’s on the menu, chef?’ Her smile was friendly, relaxed.

She was clearly trying to ease the apprehension from the air, and he appreciated it from the bottom of the heart she now had a big piece of. ‘I’m thinking a creamy chicken, mushroom and bacon casserole, with buttery garlic mash and steamed green beans.’

‘Oh my gosh, yum, Jarrah!’ She jiggled on the spot, her hands clasped beneath her chin. ‘I haven’t had mashed potatoes in I don’t know how long.’

And there it was, they were back to normal, just like that. Wow, he liked her, so much. ‘That’s sacrilege, Millie, a true-blue Aussie should have mashed potato at least once a week.’ He began packing the picnic gear into the saddlebag. ‘And Vegemite at least once a week too.’

‘Agreed.’ She passed him the folded picnic blanket. ‘And Tim Tams,’ she added with a giggle. ‘Bitten from the end and used as a straw with a nice hot chocolate or coffee.’

‘Yes!’ he hurrahed. ‘I haven’t done that in I don’t know how long.’

‘Two peas and all of that.’ She allowed him to help her up and into the saddle of his palomino mare, Sasha.

‘Yes, we most certainly are,’ he said, looking up at her.

As Jarrah settled himself atop his horse, Waylon fidgeted a little and he settled him with a light tug on the reins. Setting off, he rode closely beside Millie, the jaw-dropping tropical landscape demanding their silent absorption. When they did speak, their conversation was easy and free-flowing, and when they fell silent again, those moments were ones that didn’t carry the need to be filled. Their saddles creaking, both the horses’ breaths were slow and steady, their clip-clops rhythmic, mesmerising.

When they reached the stables, his gaze evaluated hers. ‘Did you enjoy your day off?’

Her smile was coy, sweet, and a little bit suggestive. ‘I sure did, thanks, Jarrah.’ She leant in and gave Sasha’s neck a rub. ‘And this mare is a beauty to ride too, so attentive and with such an easy gait.’

‘Yes, Sasha is one of my top horses here; I’m glad you enjoyed riding her.’ He guided Waylon through the round-yard gate. ‘Now let’s get these two unsaddled, brushed, hosed down and back into their paddocks, so we can enjoy an icy cold one or two.’

Her eyes shone with enthusiasm as they worked together, doing just that. Then, side by side, they walked Waylon and Sasha from the stables and to their paddocks. At the sight of their feed buckets, both horses hurried through, and he and Millie undid the lead ropes from their halters. Closing the gate, he made sure to latch it shut behind them.

---