Page 25 of Sweet Rucking Temptation
As we approach the house, I feel a flutter of nervousness in my stomach. It's ridiculous, really. I'm a professional rugby player, known as the 'Iceman' for my cool demeanor on the field. Yet here I am, feeling like a schoolboy bringing home his first girlfriend.
The screen door creaks open, and there's Mum, her silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her face lights up, and suddenly I'm enveloped in a hug that smells of lavender and home-baked scones.
"Oh, my boy," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "It's so good to have you home."
I return the hug, a lump forming in my throat. "Good to be home, Mum."
She pulls back, her eyes twinkling as she turns to Liv. "And you must be the lovely Liv I've heard so much about."
Liv steps forward, her smile radiant. "Mrs. Snow, it's wonderful to meet you. Elliott has told me so much about you and your beautiful farm."
To my surprise and delight, Mum pulls Liv into a warm embrace. "Call me Margaret, dear. We're so happy to have you here."
A wave of contentment washes over me. This is what I've been missing. The perfect blend of my past and my future, right here on this sun-drenched porch.
"Well," I say, clearing my throat. "Shall we head inside? I'm sure Dad's eager to meet Liv too."
Mum laughs, linking her arm through Liv's. "Oh, he's practically beside himself with excitement. He's even dusted off the photo albums."
I groan good-naturedly. "Mum, no. Not the embarrassing childhood photos."
Liv's eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh, I can't wait to see those, Mrs– I mean, Margaret."
As we step into the house, the floorboards under our feet offer a familiar creak. This is home. And for the first time in a long while, it feels complete. When we step inside, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread envelops us, and Liv's eyes light up. She takes a deep breath, her expression softening.
"Oh my," she murmurs, "it smells just like my Nonna's kitchen."
I smile, watching her take in the cozy farmhouse interior. The familiar scent brings back memories of countless post-practice meals, and I'm hit with a wave of nostalgia.
My dad emerges from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. His rugged features break into a rare smile as he approaches.
"There's my boy," he says, extending a hand. I take it, and he pulls me in for a quick, firm hug. "Good to have you home, son."
"Thanks, Dad." I clear the lump in my throat quickly and turn to Liv. "Dad, this is Liv."
Liv steps forward, her smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snow. Your home is beautiful."
Dad's eyes crinkle at the corners as he shakes her hand. "Call me John, please. And thank you. We're glad to have you here."
I can see the approval in his eyes, and a weight I didn't know I was carrying lifts from my shoulders.
"Now," Mum says, clapping her hands together, "who's ready for lunch? John's been slaving away in the kitchen all morning."
As we move towards the dining room, I lean in close to Liv. "Dad cooking? That's a first. He must really be trying to impress you."
Liv giggles, her hand finding mine. "Well, I'm certainly feeling special."
We settle around the table, laden with a spread that would put some of Auckland's finest restaurants to shame. As we dig in, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of cutlery.
"So, Liv," Dad says, between bites of roast lamb, "Elliott tells us you own a bakery in Ponsonby. That must keep you busy."
Liv nods enthusiastically. "Oh, it does. But I love every minute of it. There's something magical about creating something delicious from scratch, you know?"
I watch her as she speaks, her passion evident in every word. It's one of the things I love most about her.
"Speaking of creating things from scratch," Mum chimes in, a mischievous glint in her eye, "did Elliott ever tell you about the time he tried to bake a cake for his sister's birthday?"
I groan inwardly. "Mum, please, not that story."
