Page 39 of Stockman's Sandstorm

Talking about sugar, he opened his desk’s bottom drawer, which was filled with assorted snacks perfect for late-night gaming sessions. He even had a small bar fridge next to his desk, stacked with more snacks and energy drinks. He wanted to make sure he was stocked up for the muster.

He dug through the goodie drawer filled with packets of red liquorice sticks, energy bars, and mints, when his fingers brushed against a red packet. It was shortbread.

He didn’t eat shortbread, but he knew someone who did.

Kicking the drawer shut, he snuck across the hallway into the kitchen, where a coffee cup sat on the table. It was Harper’s, who strangely enjoyed drinking cold black coffee.

He washed her cup out at the sink, dried it, then put it on top of the shortbread packet on the table.

He then grabbed his own mug and poured a hot cup from the coffeepot made earlier, by Ryder no doubt. Ryder rarely slept, but he drank a lot of coffee, then he’d pace the verandah with his heavy boot steps.

But then Ash didn’t sleep much either, playing video games most nights.

He straightened the packet of biscuits, hoping she’d see it when she came into the kitchen.

‘Morning.’ It was Harper, dressed in a summer dress, slipping her hair into a ponytail.

‘Uh …’ Damn, she was pretty. ‘Morning.’

Her pretty brown eyes dropped to the table. He pulled his hands away and stood straighter.

‘Is that shortbread?’ The shine in her eyes was like she’d swallowed the sun as she picked up the biscuit packet. ‘Did you do this?’

He shrugged.

‘Why?’

‘At the supermarket when we were both looking for a miracle cure, you said shortbread was good for the soul.’ He also remembered she’d called shortbread the food of the gods to cure tummy upsets, bad hair days, and break-ups.

‘Why?’ she asked again.

‘Um …’ He felt like an idiot, but the words spilled. ‘I saw it on the shelf when I stocked up for my sugar stash in my desk. And, well, you said last night that you suffered with nightmares, too. And I thought it might help.’ He enjoyed doing these little things for Harper to make her time easier at the station.

Her hand clutched her delicate throat, and her eyes got all glassy. ‘Thank you.’ She may have whispered it, but he felt it hammer deep into his soul. Gratitude on this woman was stunning.

He had to turn away, using the excuse of pouring her a cup of coffee. ‘I bet it tastes better with hot coffee, too?’

‘Thank you.’ She dragged out her chair. ‘Is it wrong to eat one for breakfast?’

He didn’t need to reply. She’d already expertly torn open the package and was offering him some. ‘I bought them for you.’

‘You have a sugar stash. And this is buttery sugar. Take one. I don’t mind sharing.’ But then she wrapped her kissable lips around the butter-coloured biscuit, her eyes closed, and she moaned with pleasure.

It punched straight to his groin. He dropped into the nearest seat, just to watch her eat. The coffee was too hot, but he didn’t care as he took a deep mouthful to stop his mouth watering as she took another bite. She brushed the crumbs from her lips, that he wanted to lick off before crushing her lips with his.

Back off, brother, the lady has boundaries.

‘So, what was your nightmare about?’

Didn’t that kill her joy? Swapping it with a thick layer of sadness.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have … I just thought that …’ Ash had no idea what he was doing. Which was unusual, when he always knew what to say to the ladies.

Yet, conversations with Harper were unlike anything he’d come across, that only fuelled his need for more. ‘What you did for me—last night—I don’t feel like such a mongrel for what I’ve been feeling about Mason.’

‘So I made sense?’

He nodded. ‘I may be a lot of things, but I keep a lot of stuff private. Especially from my brothers, who treat me like I’m still the little kid who raced after them back home.’

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