Page 25 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘Sometimes, keeping a secret can be good, which you’d know from your world.’

‘It was full of secrets.’

‘So don’t beat yourself up struggling to share. But if you ever need to talk, blab, dribble, or stumble over words and have someone to listen, I’m here.’ Bree gave a tender squeeze of Harper’s arm. ‘You should hear me after I’ve had a jug of gin, it’s not even English.’ She winked at her.

Such genuine kindness had tears blurring her vision. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not normally like this.’ Using the back of her hands, she brushed them away. ‘Thank you for coming and checking on me, and for lunch.’

‘All good. Honestly, I dropped off the fruit blocks for Mason more for my selfish need to ensure he didn’t scream down the place at midnight. He did that on his first night. Where is Mason sleeping?’

‘In the cot, supposedly, but he ends up with me. And Ruby.’ Her bed got crowded, but having them there stopped the loneliness and the nightmares.

‘You know why you have a nanny dog, don’t you?’

‘For snakes?’ She shuddered at the thought, with her eyes darting to the shadowy corners of the garden.

‘To protect Mason from you.’

‘What? I’d never—’

‘Petal, you’re someone who Ash picked up from the supermarket, driving a sleek black Audi, looking after their nephew.’

‘I’d never hurt Mason. I swear it.’ In her heart she’d protect the child at all costs.

‘I believe you. It’s the rest you need to convince.’

‘Then why hire me?’

‘Because they’re desperate.’

That hurt. Especially when Harper was in high demand, with plenty of high-paying jobs offered to her all the time.

‘Chin up, petal. There’s nothing I’d love more than to prove those boys wrong and win that bet from Dex.’

‘Got my vote.’ Pushing up from the chair, she straightened her dress. She was never afraid to work hard. But this job, this place, was way out of her comfort zone. ‘Do you know if Ash has advertised for a nanny?’

‘Why would he? You’re here now.’ Bree laughed as she opened the back door of the cottage.

‘I’m not a nanny.’

‘Well, what are you then?’ Bree returned with a hat for Harper.

‘Good question?’ But for now she was determined to beat Dex’s bet.

Twelve

It was the middle of the night when Harper stumbled out of bed, in desperate need of some water. The farmhouse was so dark, she hit her shoulder against a doorframe. The sharp pain was excruciating. ‘Ow.’

‘Are you okay?’ The light in the pantry was flicked on by Ash, who was holding a milk bottle, dressed only in a towel.

‘I, um …’ She gulped, forgetting all about her shoulder. Ash must have come from the shower with his hair dripping wet. Water droplets rolled down his straight shoulders, sliding between his perfect pecs, to trickle down the smooth ridges of the most perfect set of abs she’d seen in her life.

‘Can I help you?’ As he put the milk bottle away, the light from the fridge only highlighted his abs with that towel wrapped low around his hips.

She shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from his perfect body. Or was she nodding?

‘Harper?’ The way he said her name in that husky whisper made her body tremble.

She had to be dreaming about this man stalking towards her. ‘Water,’ she croaked.

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