Page 101 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“No shit.”

She snorts air from her nose and chuckles. “No shit. Bees would definitely help your farm. They’re attracted to the strong smell and the bright purple. It’s just not the right time. It’s too cold. You can get some really cool hive systems these days. At my grandparents’ farm we were old school using Langstroth hives, you know, the ones that are like drawers sitting on top of each other, but there’s these Flow Hives now where you basically pour the honey from a tap.”

“Well, I’ll bee.” I wink at her.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “That’s such a dad joke.”

My heart pangs.Dad. Being a father.

Liv talks for a while about the difficulties she faced in finding her path. “When I started my studies in teaching, it was different. My family were so proud that I’d stuck with it. Teaching simply feels right. There’s no other way to describe it.”

“As you know, I tried my hand at a lot of things when I was younger. I was a Jackaroo at Banridge for a while.” Until working for Mum and Dad got too much. Mum and I bashed heads at every turn. “Then I did a bit of plumbing, roofing, and then finally started my own fencing business.” Call me stubborn, but I couldn’t stand working for someone else. I need to be my own boss.

“You like working with your hands,” she says.

“Yeah. It was all about paying the bills, just gettin’ by until I bought the farm. Clearly from my financial situation, I’m not doing it for the money. It’s because I wanna grow roots, literally. Have something real, that’s mine. One day, for a family.”

“That’s great,” she says and diverts her gaze.

“I wanna build something that’ll be ’round for generations. Not just start and end with me.”

“I admire that,” she whispers.

A deep ache centres in my chest. Her admiration is everything, but it’s all pie in the sky. I have to produce something tangible and get somewhere with this half-baked dream.

Clippers buzz to life as she turns them on and trims the hair around my ears and neck.

She dusts off my shoulders and smooths her hands down my upper arms. “There. All done.”

I stand and remove the towel, then turn to Liv. Her lips part as she stares at my bare chest.

“Eyes up here, sugar.” I lick at my lower lip.

Liv smirks and smooths her delicate fingers over my pecs, causing my skin to prickle all over. She picks at a small clump of hair and holds it in front of my face before dropping it in the basin. “Just looking for strays.”

“Sure, you were.” I press my lips to her forehead. “I’ll have a shave and then we’ll have something to eat, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect.” She links her arms around my middle and rests her head against my chest.

For a selfish moment, I hold her there, not wanting to let this precious woman go. But to keep her, we need to be real, to lay it all out on the table because I want a future with her. “We need to talk, Liv.”

She leans back and cups my face in her hands. “We do.” She presses a soft teasing kiss to my lips and steps back. “I’ll make breakfast, and then we talk.”

I swallow, my lips zinging from the taste of her mouth on mine.

I hope this conversation goes where I want it to.

If it doesn’t, where to from here? Will Liv break my heart all over again?

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