‘How can I live up to such a wonderful woman?’
In a few shaky steps she made her way around the counter and stood with her back to him. She picked up a book from the display and put it back in exactly the same place.
‘Sandy, it isn’t a competition.’
Her voice was scarcely a murmur. ‘There would always be a third person in our relationship. I don’t know that I could deal with that...’
‘Sandy, didn’t you hear what I said? Jodi would want me to take this chance to spend time with you.’
She turned to face him, the counter now a barrier between them. Her eyes, shadowed again, searched his face. ‘Jodi sounds like...like an angel.’
Ben forced himself to smile through the pain. ‘She’d laugh to hear you say that. Jodi was special, and I loved her. But she was just a human being, like the rest of us, with her own strengths and weaknesses.’
‘Ben, I’m no angel either. Don’t expect me to be. I’m quick to make judgements, grumpy when I’m hungry or tired—and don’t dare to cross me at my time of the month. Oh, and there’s the toilet roll thing.’
Despite the angst of talking about Jodi, Sandy made him smile. Just as she’d done when she was eighteen. ‘You can let me deal with that.’
She pushed the hair away from her forehead in a gesture of weariness. ‘I...I don’t know that I’ve thought this through very well.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
Fear knifed him again.
He’d had five major turning points in his life. One when he’d decided to go to university. The second when he’d married Jodi. The third when Liam was born. Fourth, the fire. And the fifth when he’d looked up from that wave this morning and seen Sandy standing on the shore next to his dog, as if she were waiting for him to come home to her.
Since he’d kissed her he’d thought of nothing but Sandy. Of the impact she’d made in less than twenty-four hours on his safe, guarded, ultimately sterile life.
He hadn’t wanted her here. But her arrival in town had forced him to take stock. And what he saw was a bleak, lonely future—a half-life—if he continued to walk the solitary path he had mapped for himself. He had grieved. A part of him would always grieve. But grief that didn’t heal could twist and turn and fester into something near madness—if he let it.
He would not allow Sandy to back away from him now. She’d offered four days and he was going to take them.
She took a deep breath. ‘The you-and-me thing. What if it doesn’t work out and I...and I hurt you again? You’ve endured so much. I couldn’t bear it if I caused you more pain.’
‘Leave that to me. It’s a gamble I’ll take.’
Sandy was his best bet for change. The ongoing power of his attraction to her improved the odds. Her warmth, her vivacity, made him feel as though the seized-up machinery that was his heart was slowly grinding back to life.
She gave him hope.
Maybe that was her real magic—a magic that had nothing to do with shop-bought fairy glitter.
There were four more days until she had to leave for Melbourne. He didn’t know what he brought to the table for her in terms of a relationship. But he’d be a fool not to grab the second chance she’d offered him. No matter the cost if he lost her again.
‘Are you still worried about the townsfolk? They’re nothing to be scared of.’
She set her shoulders, tossed back her head. ‘Scared? Who said I’m scared?’ Her mouth quirked into the beginnings of a smile. ‘Maybe...maybe I am a little scared.’
Scared of him? Was that the real problem? Was she frightened he would rush her into something before she was ready?
He ached to make love to Sandy. Four days might not be enough to get to that stage. But he could wait if that was what she needed. Even though the want, the sheer physical ache to possess her, was killing him.
‘No need to be. I’m here to fight battles for you. Never forget that.’
At last her smile reached her eyes. ‘You’re sure about that?’
She looked so cute he wanted to kiss the tip of her nose.
He stepped around the counter towards her at the same time she moved towards him. He took both her hands in his and pulled her to him. This time she didn’t resist. Her face was very close. That warm vanilla scent of hers was already so familiar.
‘As sure as I am about taking that second chance we’ve been offered. Let’s give it everything we’ve got in the next four days. Turn back the clock.’
She stared at him. He couldn’t blame her for being surprised at his turnaround. The shadow behind her eyes was not completely gone. Had she told him everything that was worrying her?
‘Are you serious?’ she choked out.
‘Very.’
She reached up her hand to stroke the side of his cheek. As if checking he was real. When it came, her smile was tender and her eyes were warm. ‘I’m so happy to hear you say that. It’s just that...’ She paused
‘What?’ he asked.
‘All these expectations on us. It...it’s daunting. And what will we tell people?’
‘Nothing. Let them figure it out for themselves.’ He gripped her hands. ‘This is just about you and me. It’s always just been you and me.’
‘And we—’
‘Enough with the talking,’ he growled, and he silenced her with a kiss.
A kiss to seal their bargain. A kiss to tell her what words could not.
But the kiss rapidly escalated to something hot and hungry and urgent. She matched his urgency with lips, teeth, tongue. He let go her hands so he could pull her tight. Her curves shaped to him as though they were made to fit and she wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer. The strap of her yellow dress slid off her shoulder. He wanted to slide the dress right off her.
He broke away from the kiss, his breath hard and ragged. ‘We’re out of here. To get some privacy.’
‘Wh...what about the shop?’ Her own ragged breathing made her barely coherent.
‘How many books have you sold today?’
‘Just...just a few.’
‘Yeah. Not many customers. Too many gossips.’ He stroked the bare warm skin on her shoulder, exalted in her shiver of response.
‘They did seem to spend more time lurking around corners and looking at me than browsing,’ she admitted.
Her hands slid through his hair with an unconscious sensuality that made him shudder with want.
‘You shut down the computer. I’ll set the alarm.’
‘But Ida...’
‘Don’t worry about Ida.’ He could easily make up to his aunt for any drop in sales figures.
Sandy started to say something. He silenced her with another kiss. She moaned a throaty little sound that made him all the more determined to get her out of here and to somewhere private, where he could kiss her without an audience.
The old-fashioned doorbell on the top of the shop door jangled loudly.
Sandy froze in his arms. Then she pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused. Her quiet groan of frustration echoed his. She pressed a quick, hard kiss on his mouth and looked up wordlessly at him.
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