Page 38 of Love Grows

I widened my eyes in disbelief. “My wand thingy is a Detect 5000, I’ll have you know. A wonderful piece of gear that has helped me find all sorts of interesting iron pieces for the nursery.”

Steph cracked up and fell into my chest. “You are so sexy.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Steph held my gaze. “You can take that as a yes. We’re off to find treasure.” Then raised an eyebrow, and grinned.

ChapterEleven

Dunna Dunna succulent

(Lawrencia helmsii)

Often mistaken for cacti as it is very cactus-like in appearance. The shrub has a candelabra-shaped growth which superficially gives the plants a ‘cactus look’. Flowers are yellow/green and are produced from mid-winter through spring to early summer. This species is most commonly associated with soils that are crusted and therefore seed access and germination would be very difficult for most plants. It does well in home gardens as it has a higher tolerance of other minerals than general garden plants.

Steph had been in my life for two whole months and yet it felt like the best part of a year. I grinned inside my helmet as I turned up at Steph’s place on Sunday that week in what I called my biker pants: denim pants that fitted beautifully on my thighs and had a leather strip stitched along the outside seams.I pulled off my helmet and fluffed up my short hair hoping to impress. When Steph bounded down the walkway from her apartment wearing hiking boots, designer jeans, and an empty backpack, she took one look at me and smiled like a cat that had got the cream.

“Ooh. Look at you. Yum,” she purred, and I preened, pressing my foot, which was holding the bike steady, into the ground so my thigh tensed. Steph’s smile widened to a grin. “Yeah, yeah. We all know you’re built like an Adonis. Now, you promised me a thicker jacket.”

I kicked down the stand, then dismounted and gave Steph a lingering kiss with little pecks just to say “Hi,” which made her tighten her hold around my body. We were about to give the neighbours quite the show.

I broke away. “It’s in the pannier. Hold on.” I lifted the lid and pulled out one of my older jackets that had fitted me ten years ago. Good thing leather lasted forever.

Steph shrugged it on and tucked her chin to sniff the lapel.

“It smells like you,” she said with a sigh.

I gaped. “I…I don’t know how to answer that.”

Steph giggled. “I mean it smells of fresh earth and tending to plants. And some petrol.”

I bobbed my head from side to side. “Okay. I can handle that description.”

* * *

I’d toldSteph that we were going to the outskirts of Ballarat, which was famous as the centre of gold mining during the 1800s. Technically, we weren’t supposed to be taking lumps of interesting iron, like gears and cranks, from the national park that surrounded the mine shafts, because…well, the mine shafts. Many were still open at the top or covered in a layer of thin mud and light dirt. Death traps.

Steph’s eyes had widened, her mouth was open, and she froze. “You’re kidding? This is properly dangerous. We could die, Angel.”

I laughed. “We’re not going to die. I always stay around the edge of the park, because the unchecked mines are all in the centre. Besides, the big pieces are further in and I don’t want them. The best little stuff that I pot the succulents into are at the perimeter.”

Steph didn’t look convinced.

Meanwhile, we were sticking to the highway’s sweeping bends on my beautiful bike. The latest injection of funds into the Victorian department division of roads maintenance meant that the camber of the road was exactly right, the white lines were crisp, some even textured, making the tyres buzz to alert sleepy drivers, or give riders a heart attack.

Soon enough, we rode through the red soil drifting across the asphalt and between rolling hills that flattened out to display the vista of the town. The skyline was marked with the towers of the three working gold mines in the region.

I rolled to a stop on the side of the highway leading into Ballarat and turned the bike into the lay-by area. One car was already parked and I could bet what he was up to. Gold detecting was the favourite weekend activity around here, particularly the faintly illegal kind.

The eucalyptus trees bowed over the picnic tables the magpie and cockatoo population had defecated on, turning the brown-painted timber to a muddy white and grey. No picnic there. Good thing we were riding into town for lunch. The cinder block toilets would most likely be filled with unflushed bowls and a collection of annoyed spiders; another reason for lunch at an actual establishment.

I was very glad that I had my jacket on and so did Steph because it was cool while we were travelling, but that didn’t explain the goosebumps. They were entirely Steph’s fault. My reaction was visceral to Steph’s body, her looks, her smiles, her kindness, her Greek-speaking ability which was an odd linguistic point of arousal. But there it was. I was falling for her.

I parked the bike near the car, then grabbed the parts of the metal detector to lock together. The dinner-plate-sized detector went on last, just after the electronic alert system that immediately started beeping.

“There’s gold here!” Steph cried, then fell about laughing at the long look I gave her.

“It’s shale,” I commented dryly. “Come on, shove the little spade, the dust brush, the water bottle, and the old newspaper into your backpack.”

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