Page 38 of The Felicity Theory (The Laws of Love 4)

Already she imagined she’d heard him say “Only joking”, but instead he responded casually, as if the idea was of no real consequence either way. “Sure, why not.”

“Oh—well,” she spluttered. “To that I could reply, why would you?”

He shifted next to her, supporting himself on his elbows, one leg casually crossed over the other and with his bow tie removed, the buttons of his shirt gaped just a little, just enough that if she looked… but of course she wouldn’t look. And, god, now her mind was falling over itself. If he did come, where would he sleep? There was really only room for one on the mattress in the Shaggin’ Wagon. A hysterical laugh tickled the back of her throat.

She realised Oliver was speaking again. “I had a call the other day—from my ex—I have to get back to Sydney.”

“Oh. I see.” She didn’t see at all, nor did she like the little thunk of disappointment in her belly. Was he going back to make up with her? But then he continued, “I guess you heard from Alice about my spectacular relationship break-up a few months back.” His tone was rueful, or resigned, or maybe a bit of both.

“Yes, I um, I did hearsomethingabout that.”

“I was pretty certain you knew. Let’s just say, it wasn’t my idea.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Anyhow, Leonie—my ex—is now running a wedding planning business in Bali. Ironic, right?”

Hearing the strain in his voice, she stayed silent. Sometimes sympathy only made things worse. “So, the long and short of it is, we’ve agreed it’s time to put our apartment on the market. Which means I have to get back to Sydney sooner than I planned.”

“Couldn’t you fly there?”

“I could. But if I were to drive across with you, maybe it could work for both of us.” A lengthy pause. “And don’t worry, I’m very safe to travel with.” Another mirthless laugh. “Romance is, frankly, the last thing on my mind.”

“Oh, same,” she agreed, an octave too high. “Though the services of a bodyguard would be appreciated.” He cast her a quizzical glance. “By services I don’t mean,servicing, you know, those bits. Not my bits—oh dear.” She buried her head in her hands, blushing madly. “This is coming out all wrong.”

Thankfully Oliver was laughing, full and throaty and sexy—except of courseletting her mind go therewas right off the agenda from now on.

“Servicing as in removing creepy crawlies and helping change a flat tyre, right?”

She nodded, still blushing. “Exactly.”

“We’re on the same page then.” He swilled back his champagne and sheabsolutelydidn’t look at the muscles in his neck as he swallowed.

“But—urm—where would you sleep?”

“I’ll bring a tent.”

“Right-oh,” she said in a jolly hockey sticks kind of voice. “Have you camped much before?”

“Often as a kid. We visited some fairly remote parts of Australia when Dad was in his Crocodile Dundee phase. So, I do know something about the outback, and I can likely fix the engine if it plays up.”

Images of Oliver sorting out the Shaggin’ Wagon with that oil stain on his chiselled cheekbone shot into her head and made heat travel like a wave pool down her body. It occurred to her that this was probably nothing to the glimpses of his body she might catch in a camping situation. Her mouth dried up. Finally, she managed gruffly, “And I can warm up a can of baked beans.”

“Fantastic.”

As they both sipped their champagne, Felicity took stock of the situation. Clearly, she needed a travelling companion. It seemed her trip could be risky without one. In turn, Oliver needed to get back to Sydney. Nobody had twisted his arm to come with her; he was a grown man, he could make his own decisions.

And what about the pact she’d made with Evie just after they’d left Hedgedown Lodge? That she’d grab life with both hands? Excluding her travelling companion of course. No grabbing him with both hands,obviously. There was a “keep out” sign with barbed wire aroundhim. And on the positive side of things, if they were living in close proximity, Oliver had already seen every square inch of her naked bod and hadn’t turned a hair.

She straightened her spine. Her quick evaluation had led to the conclusion that Oliver was entirely safe territory, far safer, it would appear, than driving across Australia on her own.

If she just kept her eyes averted when he stripped off his kit, she’d no doubt have a great holiday.

Easy-peasy lemon squeezy.

“You’re very quiet,” Oliver observed with a lip quirk. “Not quite what I’m used to from you.”

“Are you implying I prattle on too much?”

“Not at all. I like it when you prattle.”

She gave his arm a playful slap. Oh, god, it was hard, hard muscle. “Well, if you come with me you may change your mind.”

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