Page 89 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jerry

“I’ve had a couple ofpeople interested in the room,” Daynah says. “What do you want me to do?”

I toss the shovel aside and wipe the sweat trickling down the side of my face as I adjust the phone to my ear. “Can you pull the ad?”

I need to return the texts and calls about the room, but I don’t want Liv to overhear. I don’t want her to think there’s a time limit on her stay. It’s been eight days since the fire. She’s more important. If I’m honest, being in this much debt, the money from the room would barely make a difference. Some, but it’s negligible.

“Yeah, I can.” There’s a pause on the line. “Jer?”

“Yeah?”

“Things good with you and Liv?”

Since the storm, I’ve ended up in Liv’s bed most nights, but Daynah doesn’t need to know that or the nightmares crippling Liv of late.Has she experienced them since she lost her family?

“I’m fine. She’s fine.”

I wish there was something else I could do, but Liv said just being with her has helped her fall back asleep. The dark rings beneath her eyes shatter me; she needs rest.

“Fine, huh? Well, you need anything, hit me up, okay?”

“Will do.”

Another pause. “We’re gonna have a family dinner at Banridge soon. You up for it?”

“Sure. What’s the occasion?”

She clears her throat. “No. No reason. Just to catch up.”

“Sure, let me know when.”

While I’m alone out in the fields, I bite the bullet and return the messages about the room. Who knew short term accommodation was in such short supply around here? I promise to let them know if things change.

I pray they don’t. I don’t want Liv to leave.

After finishing up a local fencing job, when I return home at the end of the day, garlic and herbs—and something mouth-watering—linger in the air, as if I’ve walked into an Italian restaurant.

Liv beams as she places toasted garlic bread on a white platter and transfers it to the dining table beside two bowls of pasta in rich red sauce.

“I hope you’re hungry. I went grocery shopping. I also bought some stuff for the kitchen.”

“Wow, thanks. Yeah, I’m a simple cook.” I shrug. Cooking for one, I don’t spend much time in the kitchen.

As if it’s something we do in our everyday lives, we sit and share a meal.

Sitting and talking is as if I’m in another dimension. The more time she spends here, the more this house feels like a home.

***

“Oh, my God. You areruthless,” I say and laugh. I’ve never played anyone so skilled at Uno. I thought I was a master, but Liv continues to outplay me. Nights are certainly different with Liv around. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I was trained by the best. My nan.” A soft smile tugs at her lips. “She was a killer. My grandpa used to get so riled up when we’d gang up on him.”

I laugh. “That’s awesome.”

Liv has opened up more about her family since the fire. Maybe it was the thing to kick her into gear, as if she realised she couldn’t keep travelling down the path where she bottled everything up.

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