Page 60 of The Reality of Us
“Can we start over?” she mumbled. “Pretend I’m not an idiot.”
“Nothing about you is idiotic,” Owen said firmly, his eyes earnest.
“You might be the only person who thinks that.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but his grip around her waist tightened as his other hand snaked up to cradle her jaw.
“Then everyone else is wrong.”
Unable to stop herself, Alice brushed her lips across his. When he leant towards her, she pushed up onto her toes, not pulling any punches this time, launching into a searing kiss. He went with her, taking control and she forgot everything she’d ever said before. He pulled away, panting and they stared at each other. Then he swiped his tongue along the seam of her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip until she opened for him again.
Somehow—she didn’t know, her brain clearly wasn’t getting enough oxygen—Alice ended up with her legs around his waist, the heat between her thighs pressing against the tightness in his pants.
“Owen,” she moaned.
“Hmmmm?”
“Do you think we could go inside? Contrary to popular belief, I’m not actually an exhibitionist.”
A thrill swept through her body as he blinked twice and looked around. They were standing in the middle of the doorway. The chances of anyone seeing them, who didn’t hop on their hind legs and appear on the Australian coat of arms, was negligible, but she could never be too careful.
Gingerly, Owen unwrapped her legs and helped her down.
She gestured towards his home. “This is not at all what I was expecting. Teddy said everyone was surprised when you bought this place.”
Owen cleared his throat and adjusted his pants; his cheeks tinged the sweetest pink. “There’s another house—a proper one, well, it will be a soon—over the ridge line.” He pointed towards the copse of gum trees blocking most of the house from view. “It’s an old barn. The main house on the property burnt down years ago, and the barn was partially renovated before I bought it. Hopefully, it will be finished soon, and then I’ll move in there.” He pushed the screen door open and gestured for her to head inside. “Can I get you a drink?”
She followed him to the kitchenette. “Sure.” She shrugged. “What’s this place then?”
“It was added by one of the previous owners as an art studio for her wife.”
Alice spun around, her gaze bouncing around the open plan space. Her eyes zeroed in on the neatly made bed with its plain grey quilt cover.
“Do you want the wine you brought? Or I found a few others you might like. Mineral water?”
Alice dropped onto a bar stool, one leg bending so she was sitting half cross-legged, the other dangling towards the floor. “Wine, please. Any’s fine.” She snuck a piece of grated cheese off the platter, her finger tapping her chin as she chewed.
“Dinner won’t be long. I’ve triple checked everything is gluten free, too.”
Warmth filled her chest. Being a coeliac wasn’t the end of the world, but it meant a lot when someone cared enough to cater for her properly.
“Thanks. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Got distracted doing a promotional shoot, and then I wanted to make a few more candles. And I’m finalising stuff for a charity auction I’m doing for the kid’s hospital. Your mum and Joan have been a huge help. Eloise, too.” It felt good to be achieving so much.
Owen leant across the bench, brushing their lips together like they’d been doing this for years. Not days. He passed her a glass of rosé. Alice buried her smile in her wine.
“Mum said she’s earmarked a bunch of jackets from your sale.”
Alice snuck a few more pieces of cheese, and he pushed the chopping board towards her. “Everyone’s been so nice.”
“That’s Wattle Junction. It’s why I wanted to come home.” He smiled. “How are preparations for the launch going?”
She chewed carefully, her eyes drifting closed as she swallowed a sip of wine. “Oh, this is my favourite,” she said. Knowing Owen, that was no accident. She’d bet he had quietly asked Wyatt for recommendations. Warmth spread throughout Alice’s body. Soon she’d be so warm she’d probably have to take all her clothes off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Owen bent to pull taco shells out of the small oven and oof, his ass looked good in those pants.
When he turned around, her eyes flew to his face before dropping back to the bench. Busted. He smiled widely at her blush.
“Um, tell me about this race thing. I looked it up last night. Have you done it before?”
Owen set the oven tray on top of an oven mitt covered in cartoon koalas. Who was this guy? Seriously? He pulled plates from the overhead shelf and grabbed the sour cream and homemade guacamole from the fridge. “Raff and I raced it years ago. We came second.”
