Page 63 of Between Two Shores

Beth clapped her hands. “Yes. That’s right. Clever girl.”

A man’s voice boomed around the corner. “And Quokkas, I’ve heard.”

“Uncle Mark!” Sasha wriggled out of Lachlan’s arms.

“I see I’m not the favorite uncle.” Lachlan crossed his arms.

A shorter, rounder version of Lachlan entered the room, followed by a woman and three kids.

Mark collected his niece and nodded at Beth. “I’ve seen you before, on Lachlan’s phone’s screen saver.”

“She’s not on my screen.” His face flushed as he slid out his phone and flashed it to Mark.

Mark chuckled and mumbled something like “was.” His wife stepped forward and bumped into her husband. “Ignore him. I’m Ann.” She gestured to the older children. “This is Sammy, Emily, and Jonathon.”

“Hi, kids.” Beth waved.

“Well, dinner’s ready.” Mrs. Peters called. “Everyone in the dining room! Children, wash your hands.”

Once they were seated, Mr. Peters started handing the dishes in a clockwise direction. Across the table, snippets of conversation rose with steam from Pyrex dishes. Beth wasn’t sure about eating meatloaf or Brussel sprouts. On the American sitcoms, children complained about having to eat them. She’d do her best not to offend the cook and take small portions. Lachlan handed her a platter of cubed yellow cake. Dessert with dinner?

He smiled, amused. “Cornbread.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She took a piece and passed the plate to Kayce.

Lachlan leaned close. His spicy aftershave made her heart skip a beat. “You okay with my crazy family?”

She tucked some hair behind her ear. “No crazier than mine. I like them.”

“Good.” He turned and took another dish from Ann beside him.

To Beth’s left, Kayce struggled to please the girls’ complaints about the healthy options. The girls won, their small plates holding only cornbread, one buffalo wing, and a scoop of macaroni and cheese. No greens.

Amazingly, the whole family fit at one table. Lachlan’s arm often brushed hers, sending unrelenting shivers over her skin. Why did his closeness always have that effect on her? Truly annoying. Nick never caused tingles or flutters. They’d found their relationship on an airy-fairy fantasy of making a difference in the world.

Instrumental jazz played from a sound system in the living room. His parents had style. They must be rich too. French doors to a separate theatre room connected to the living area. And the bedroom she was staying in had an adjoining bathroom with a spa bath. Lachlan mentioned they owned a real estate business, so it made sense they had immaculate home décor.

Once her plate was full, Beth carefully cut the smallest amount of meatloaf and placed it in her mouth. Lachlan gave her an appraising glance.

The flavor, similar to meatballs, spread over her tongue, and had the texture of bread. Unusual, but delicious. She nodded her approval to Lachlan. His eyes wandered to her mouth, then flickered elsewhere. He began a conversation with his sister-in-law to his right. Beth wiped her forefinger across her lips, hoping she hadn’t left crumbs.

She scanned the people around her, animated in conversation. Did they use cutlery to eat the buffalo wings? Mr. Peters had one in his hand, so she collected her piece and nibbled as gracefully as she could, using a napkin at regular intervals. The marinated sauce had a kick to it, but she wanted another. Before she’d finished, Lachlan added a second one to her plate. He seemed quite observant of her tastes. Mark too. He flicked a glance between Lachlan and her, then grinned. He obviously didn’t know she’d just come out of an engagement. And had Mark joked about Lachlan having their Quokka photo on his screen saver? At least for a while? Lachlan had mentioned the photo popped up as a memory. Had that been the reason he’d accepted Chris’s offer? He’d said he wanted to see her when he came to Australia. Would he still want to, after she’d fallen for another man?

She bit into another wing. Had she really loved Nick? She cared about him. Still worried about him. But that wasn’t the same as love. True love.

“Can I pour you a drink?” Lachlan interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, please. Lemon soda.”

His chiseled hands held her glass firmly, and she became entranced by his movements, the liquid fizzing, and his low voice as he whispered, “Here you go,” and placed the soda between them. She met his gaze through her lashes. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

She pulled at her sweater. Was it warm in here, or just her? Likely, Lachlan’s unmerited kindness not only warmed her heart, but did crazy things to the rest of her body too. Sitting so close to him wasn’t a good idea. Who had placed her next to Lachlan? She glanced at his mother, who flicked her gaze elsewhere. Did Mrs. Peters notice how she responded to her son? Women had that sixth sense, and a mother even more so. Beth bit her bottom lip. She needed to get a grip on reality and focus elsewhere. For the rest of the meal, she did just that—kept her back to Lachlan and chatted with Kayce and the girls.

LACHLAN

After the extended family left, Lachlan scrubbed the oven dishes while his mother stacked the dishwasher. Beth helped until Lachlan dismissed her to make the necessary phone calls to her family.

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