Page 43 of Lime Tree Hill

She looked up. “Way to go, you. Better than flashing your boobs. You’re stunning.”

“Thank you.”

“I bet you felt it too. And look at Mitch and Luka. Awww. Too cute.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, are those the pancake rocks at Petrie Bay? I love it there. It’s just by the pines?”

“Yes. I love it too. It has a certain intimacy about it.”

“It’s spiritual. A place where angels go to heal. If you listen closely, you can hear them singing.”

Interesting.

Valentina giggled at Tayla’s expression. “That’s what my grandma always says. She’s into all that touchy-feely stuff.” She handed back the phone. “Why did you sleep in the spare room? Are you guys fighting?”

Blunt as an old knife.“Mitch snores when he’s overtired, and I’m a light sleeper.”

Valentina nodded. She put her empty plate in the dishwasher before stuffing the apples into her bag. “I’d better finish up. I don’t get paid to talk. Thanks for the breakfast. I’d love to see your wedding album when you get it.”

They leftjust after one, and as Mitch drove away from Lime Tree Hill, Tayla wondered what they’d talk about on their five-hour journey.Being tongue-tied around men wasn’t new to Tayla; she’d spent her teenage years too nervous to initiate conversation with most of the boys at school. But with counseling, she’d learned to curb that anxiety, to ride with it, not fight against it. Still, the feeling came and went, and sitting next to him, she struggled to relax.

As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. Mitch liked to stream audiobooks when driving. And as they headed along the scenic route toward the Rata River Valley, Tayla found herself so engrossed in the story, she almost forgot the reason for their trip.

Having stopped just once along the way, they arrived in the coastal town of Tulloch Point right on dark. As Mitch pulled into the sweeping circular driveway and cut the engine, Tayla sat up straight and inhaled sharply. She wanted to listen to the rest of the novel, but that would have to wait.

An old villa stood before them, all lit up ready for a party. With smart paintwork and an iron roof, the house reminded her of her parents’ home, right down to the wrap-around veranda and rambling roses bursting with late-autumn blooms.

“This is it. The Dobson homestead. It’s a pity Mum and Frank aren’t here.” Mitch glanced her way; that look of empathy making an appearance. “You ready?”

It was showtime. She hadn’t learned her lines but put on her happy face despite her inner turmoil. “Yes. I think so. Does your sister live here alone?”

“She does—just until the nomads return. But Frank’s keen to stay in the UK for a while, so I have no idea when that will be.”

Tayla busied herself in the truck while Mitch grabbed their gear. But when he opened her door and offered a hand, she couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. He looked at her with warmth. She suddenly wanted another kiss—practice or otherwise, she didn’t care. But it seemed the pancake rocks kiss was the last one they’d share.

Dressed in light blue jeans, a plaid shirt, and ankle boots, a livewire of a girl with masses of curly dark hair bounded down the stairs and jumped onto Mitch’s back. “Mitchel!”

Tayla stepped to the side as he wrestled her to the ground. “Get off me. What are you, twelve?”

His sister?

She dusted herself off, a throaty laugh filling the country air. “What time do you call this? The party starts in an hour. I need you to light the fire pit while I get changed. And you’re the short-order cook, so I hope you brought your apron.”

“I had to work this morning.” He smiled. “You knew this.”

“You always have to work.”

“Not true, and”—he turned to Tayla—“Tayla, meet your sister-in-law Sydney, aka CeCe.”

Sydney looked at Tayla for the first time, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. “So, you’re the wife?” She opened her arms and grinned. “Bring it.”

When Tayla inched in for the hug, Sydney whispered, “Welcome to the family. I like you already.”

Tayla pulled back. “Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you, Sydney.”

“My friends call me CeCe. What were my parents thinking, naming me after an Australian city?”

“You know you were conceived there, don’t you?” Mitch said with a grin.

“That is an urban legend I prefer to ignore. And you’d better behave yourself. I still haven’t forgiven you for not inviting me to your wedding.”

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