Page 114 of Lime Tree Hill

Her jacket hanging open, Tayla followed Mitch up the steps, her legs still a little wobbly from the ride. He unlocked the door, and as she followed him inside, she wondered where the tenants were. “It’s empty. Have Will and Alexis moved out?”

“Yeah, they bought their own house in town, so she could be closer to her work.”

Mitch opened the French doors onto the veranda, letting the breeze greet the room. And as Tayla scanned the space, devoid of laughter and color and oversized cotton-covered sofas, a pang of nostalgia surfaced. She missed this house more than she’d realized. Missed the ambiance of a home well loved and cared for.

Beyond the windows, rain clouds rumbled closer, and the scent of lavender from the garden freshened the air. Mitch turned to look at her, his eyes dark, his expression hopeful. He wore his hair a little shorter now, and if anything, he looked better than ever.Tayla basked in the visual form of him: his butt in tight jeans, the tattoo just visible below his rolled-up shirt sleeve, and impressive biceps straining against cotton. But mostly, she loved the way he communicated his mood with a lazy gaze and knowing smile.

Mitch walked toward her, hands outstretched. “Are you hungry?”

Returning the gesture, Tayla met him halfway, her hands slipping into his. “A little. When are your new tenants arriving?”

“I don’t have new tenants.” He led her outside to a small ironwork table set for two—with silverware, plates, wine glasses, and candles—and pulled out a chair.

She removed her jacket. “What’s all this? It looks gorgeous.”

“Sit, please. I have food. I’ll just go grab it.”

As Mitch walked away, she gazed out over the newly planted grapefruit trees toward Norman’s cottage, and in the far distance, the packing shed where they’d shared their first kiss, their first touches of passion. She smiled at the memory.

Mitch returned a few minutes later, carrying a large platter of rice paper rolls, fresh herbs, julienned vegetables, and dipping sauces in one hand and a bottle of pinot grigio in the other.

She accepted the platter and placed it in the center of the table. “Wow, you’ve been busy. It’s like a picnic.”

“I can’t take the credit for the food, but I did open the wine.”

“Let me guess, the staff at the farm gate store made the platter to your specifications?”

He filled her glass. “No, Valentina did. She’s a budding chef. Anyway, I want to say something before we start. Promise me you won’t interrupt until I’ve finished.”

Tayla nodded. Sipped her wine. Wished they could make love. “Okay.”

He cleared this throat. “When I saw you in Simon’s office that first day, I had no idea which sister you were. When Simon called you Tayla, I couldn’t believe you were the goth girl with the half-shaved head who was also a beneficiary of Norman’s will. I didn’t like you much back then, but you still intrigued me. Weeks later, when we discussed the Gauguin prints, I wondered if Norman might have been onto something when he suggested we’d be good together.”

He reached for her hand across the table and squeezed gently. She sat still, afraid of what he might say next.

“You’ve fascinated me for a long time. But my excitement for you, the real excitement, started the day we said our vows. When we arrived at Little Brown Barn afterward, I was so nervous, I could hardly eat a thing. And as we walked up the stairs that night, your skirt swishing on the treads, I wanted to pick you up and carry you to my room so I could spend the night making love to my beautiful bride.”

Her brows knitting together, Tayla swiped away the tears threatening to flow.

“And that excitement’s still there every time I hear your car come up the driveway. When you crack small jokes, and cry at sad movies. And when I see the way you are with the people you care about, I admire you so much. But our lack of trust, our jealousy, has damaged what we had. Unless we address those issues, maybe we can’t find common ground.”

Tayla looked away for a moment, pressing her lips together to halt the tremble, not trusting herself to reply. Although she’d heard his words, she couldn’t quite grasp his meaning.

“I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t jealous of you and Hayden,” he continued. “When you went to Sydney, I didn’t trust you to be faithful, and I had no right to expect you would be. All the time you were away, I imagined you with him—sleeping in his bed, eating out at fancy restaurants, and conducting your ‘intellectual relationship,’ but this time, with added intimacy. I thought you’d want to experience sex with other men. That you’d be curious.”

“Why would you even think that?”

“Because you’re a highly sexual person, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be enough for you. So, I’m sorry I doubted you, but if I’m not enough?—”

“I—”

Mitch held up a palm to stop her. “Just one more thing. I choose you…in every way, and I hope you’ll choose me back. And before you answer, I have something for you.” He pulled an envelope from underneath his placemat and handed it to her.

“Should I be scared?”

“Depends. Open it.”

She lifted the flap and pulled out the document, her eyes widening with disbelief as she studied the deed with her name on it. “What is this?”

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