‘Coming right up.’ Nev leaned in a little closer. ‘He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you. And if you don’t do something about it, I’m going to ban you from the café for a month.’
Karly hated that she was secretly pleased by Nev’s observation, her reluctant attraction to the enemy not helping her determination to keep him at bay. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Try me.’ Nev winked before heading for the front cabinet, leaving Karly no option but to sit at Hudson’s table for five minutes. The briefer the better if she could demolish the brownie fast.
When she sat at his table, she noticed he’d eaten his brownie in record time, leaving a few crumbs scattered on Nev’s signature clay plates. ‘I thought you were lying about having a sweet tooth when you brought those chocolate blocks over to my place.’
‘I’d never lie about something as serious as chocolate.’ He mock scowled and she wished he wasn’t so darn likeable when he swapped banter like this.
‘So that means you lie about other stuff?’
‘No. I hate liars.’
Belatedly, she realised he must be referring to his father, but before she could change the subject, Nev appeared at their table and placed a brownie in front of her, with a small scoop of vanilla bean ice-cream.
‘Hey, why didn’t I get that?’ He pointed to her plate and arced an eyebrow at Nev, who passed the buck. ‘Karly will tell you.’
‘You’re lucky your food’s so good or I’d boycott this place,’ he yelled at Nev’s retreating back, and she raised a hand in acknowledgement before disappearing into the kitchen.
‘She’s not going to spit in my food next time I’m in here, is she?’
‘I wouldn’t worry, considering you’re not staying in town long.’ She flung it at him, wanting to make him feel bad for barrelling into her hometown, the place she’d lived for almost thirty years, and taking away one of the things that mattered most. They might swap banter like pros, and she enjoyed it too much to be good for her, but she shouldn’t forget.
He was the enemy.
‘Does the fact I’m leaving soon bother you?’
‘Hardly.’ She snorted. ‘I’m counting down the days.’
‘I am too.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘Because the moment I get your grandfather’s go-ahead on the acquisition, I’m out of here.’
She knew this. She’d lost sleep over it. But it didn’t make it any easier hearing him articulate it so calmly, like a fait accompli, and her chest ached with the realisation nothing she did or said would change the outcome.
So she did the only thing possible in response to his declaration: picked up her brownie and took a giant bite, to ensure her mouth was full and she wouldn’t end up saying something she’d regret.
CHAPTER
22
Heidi had prepped a lot of food over the years. Bert had professed to being hopeless in the kitchen early in their marriage so she’d done the bulk of the cooking. She particularly enjoyed preparing for those dinner parties she hosted for Rayne and Noel, though if she’d known then what she knew now, she’d have doctored that abusive prick’s food with laxatives every chance she got.
As for the town’s annual Christmas in July picnic, she had a reputation for baking the best egg and bacon quiches, lamingtons and apple teacake in the region. So that’s what she’d made for today’s picnic with Jem. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, she’d gone all out.
He’d surprised the heck out of her last night when he’d invited her on a picnic. But his rationale made her blush every time she thought about it. He wanted to take things slow, and she’d done the exact opposite when she’d groped him like some inexperienced teenager with her first boyfriend. Heat flushed her cheeks at the memory. What he must think of her … Then again, did it matter? Embracing her sexuality over the last six months had made her feel empowered in a way she’d never thought possible. Marrying young had ensured she viewed sex as an act of great importance between two people who loved each other, but living with Bert—and their dwindling sex life—over the years had disabused her of that notion.
Signing up to Happy was the best thing she’d ever done. Dating younger men proved she could take charge in and out of the bedroom. And that meant she might respect Jem’s wishes but she didn’t want to go through the rigmarole of some long-winded courtship if they were seriously attracted to each other.
But isn’t that what you want? More than a fleeting encounter?
Damned if she knew.
She was tired of those shallow hook-ups from the dating app, sure, but when a man like Jem said he wanted to take things slow, didn’t that mean he was in this for the long haul? That he wanted more than sex?
Then again, she could be overthinking this and he could simply mean he didn’t want to get horizontal on the first or second date, but on the third it wasn’t out of the question.
A rapping at her door disrupted her musings and she sealed the lid on the lamington container before drying her hands on a tea towel and heading to the door. She opened it to find Meredith wearing a voluminous turquoise kaftan threaded with silver that looked like it belonged on the beach in Byron Bay.
‘Hey, petal, I come bearing gifts.’ Meredith opened her giant handbag and pulled out a bottle of port. ‘This is to make up for drinking the other bottle I brought you.’