Page 66 of The Reality of Us
He was about to say hello to Alice and ask where she wanted the candles when Eloise grabbed his arm. “Thank God. We’re getting slammed. Can you get another two boxes of the charity ones and I’ll put these out? One lady wants twenty!”
The woman Alice had been chatting with moved away, and his mouth went dry when he saw the rest of her outfit. She’d paired a cropped tan leather jacket with a black minidress that was just long enough to be decent but short enough for him to admire her lithe legs. Legs that were clad in glittery black leggings and sparkly gold heels with chunky rhinestones on the strap that tied around her ankle. There she is. He made a mental note to ask her to leave those shoes on the next time they were together.
“Owen?” Eloise snapped her fingers in his face.
“Right, yes. More boxes. Got it.”
Alice finally noticed him when he returned, her face a mixture of pride and surprise.
“Looks like it’s going well.” He tightened his grip on the boxes so he didn’t do something reckless like kiss her in front of all these people. She pressed her lips together, her tongue darting before she dragged it across the bottom one, a tantalising flush hitting her skin. Did she want to kiss him too?
“Would you excuse me for a second?” she asked the lady with short hair she’d been talking to. She ducked past Eloise, promising to return in a second, and led him into the back room.
As soon as they were alone, Alice did an adorable little shimmy, bouncing around on the balls of her feet. “My website crashed!” she whispered as she looked over his shoulder. “And The Age sent a reporter earlier. I told them all about the race and how important Kathleen’s Place was. And I’ve almost sold all my charity candles! All gone! That’s … I can’t, maths is ugh, but yay!”
Her deep blue eyes framed with thick dark lashes called him home like a lighthouse guiding a ship to safety. Owen had to touch her.
“I don’t want to say I told you so …” His hands rested on her hips. She hooked her fingers behind his belt, pulling him so close he felt her soft exhale against his neck.
“I’m so happy I wouldn’t even care if you did.” She laughed. “My phone’s been going off. This could work, Owen!”
“Honey.” He dropped his head until their foreheads were pressed against each other. “It is working.” He wasn’t only talking about the candles anymore either. If anyone had told him he’d care this much, so quickly for someone, he’d have never believed them. It was hard to fathom they’d only kissed for the first time less than two weeks ago. Once she was divorced, they could do this. Be like this always. He just had to wait for her to catch up and realise that staying in Wattle Junction could work. Staying with him could work.
Her lip gloss smelt like strawberries and shimmered under the fluorescent lights. One quick kiss and he’d let her go back to her launch. Her celebration.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said. And did he think she was beaming before because, hell, sunshine and happiness and everything good in the world was pouring out of her right now. If they’d been somewhere more private and it didn’t involve stealing her away from her moment, he’d have really shown her how happy he was for her.
“Me too.” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I didn’t ever think …” She trailed off, and he rubbed his thumb across her mouth, sticky lip gloss be damned.
“Think what?” He brushed his lips across hers.
Her breath hitched, her fingers twisting in his hair. “Nothing. I didn’t think people would like the candles this much.”
He wanted to press her, to ask if that’s what she really meant, but he had to trust that she’d tell him when she was ready.
Alice pulled on his tie until he covered her mouth with his. The kiss was soft, gentle … familiar. No promise of anything else. It was the most dangerous one they’d ever shared. He was about to pull her in closer when someone gasped.
23
Owen and Alice sprang apart.
“Sorry! I saw you come in here, Owen, and I just wanted to have a quick chat,” Camille said.
“It’s fine. We were just talking.” Alice’s cheeks were bright red, her shoulders rigid; Owen’s stomach dropped to his feet. He was about to say something—what though?—when the beaded curtain that separated the storeroom from the main store was pushed aside.
“Darling, where have you been?” Lulu bustled into the back room. “We need candles and ba—” His mother froze when she saw the three of them.
“Camille was just leaving, Mum. I’ll be right there.”
The glare Lulu gave Camille made Owen grimace. His mother was scary when she wanted to be. “Only staff are allowed in the storeroom. Out you go, please.” She even made a shooing motion.
“I just need a minute of Owen’s time.”
Lulu snorted and shook her head, and jeez, she was the best. “That won’t be happening. Not under my roof. I’ll walk you to the door.”
“What are we going to do? What if she tells people what she saw?” Alice hissed as soon as Lulu and Camille were out of earshot.
“Nothing. Camille might not live here anymore, but everyone knows the Arturos love to stir up trouble. If anyone says anything, we can just roll our eyes.” Dear God, please let Camille keep her big mouth shut.
