Page 38 of Sorry Season

“About us,” he added. “You’re worried I’ll let you down, maybe even leave again.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

He darted a quick glance at her, smiling when he saw her tongue firmly planted in her cheek.

“From a construction CEO moonlighting as a shrink, yes, it is. But you’ve got nothing to be concerned about. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She hoped not, because he’d left her heartbroken six years ago. This time it would devastate her.

Determined not to spoil his surprise, she touched his arm. “Are we nearly there yet?”

Apparently satisfied with her change of topic, he waved his hand toward the left. “It’s just around this next bend.”

“So what is this place…”

She trailed off as he negotiated the tight hairpin bend and her mouth dropping open. “Wow.”

He slowed the Ute to a crawl to give her time to appreciate the full impact of the view. “Not bad, huh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

She’d never been an ocean gal, spending all her life in dusty, dry Rainbow Creek before falling for the big city lights of Melbourne, but with this incredible vista before her—deep indigo ocean dotted with white caps crashing onto pristine sand, the occasional dolphin flipping through the waves, and an endless expanse of bright blue sky—she definitely understood the attraction.

He pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. “This isn’t the surprise.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “It isn’t?”

“No. That’s around the next bend.”

“Tease.” She sent him a coy glance from beneath lowered lashes, implying he could tease her any time, anywhere.

Chuckling, he did a quick check over his shoulder and pulled back onto the track, the Ute doing a little sideways skid that had her laughing along with him.

“What is it with boys and their big toys?”

He shrugged, his attention fixed on negotiating another hairpin bend. “Don’t you know? We never grow up.”

Not entirely true. While Blane’s blundering red and white Ute with its fancy chrome bull bar and sky high snorkel might be a big boy’s toy, he’d grown up in all the ways that counted, namely into a strong, capable man not afraid to revisit the past and come clean as to why he’d done what he did.

It must’ve taken a lot of courage for him to walk into her café that first day, not knowing how she’d react, ready to bare his soul to her.

Then again, maybe he had known, because she’d always been his, from the first minute he’d smiled that sunny, lopsided smile at her six years ago.

“You’re plenty grown up for me,” she said, laughing as he growled. She gripped the dashboard and held her breath as he rounded the bend, the anticipation more of a rush than the road curves.

“What do you think?”

Swivelling her head to the left, she couldn’t believe her eyes. If the ocean view on the right was something else, the monstrous mansions lining the track were out of this world.

“Those are some houses,” she said, admiring the clean, crisp lines of the beautiful houses and the way they blended into the environment.

“Here’s the one I really want you to see.”

He swung into a gravel drive, the Ute bumping on a pot-holed, deeply riveted driveway that wound its way slowly upward. She craned her neck, confused as to why he’d drive her out here to see a house.

Snapping her fingers, she said, “You’re building some fancy-schmancy mansion out here and you want to show off your work?”

“Something like that.”

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