okay.”
She smiled her thanks. “So, any other family?”
His lips pulled tight. “I had a sister. Once.”
Crap. She’d done it again. She really had to learn to quit while she was ahead. She put her beer down. “I need the bathroom.”
She was half way to her feet when he said, “Thank you,” from whatever dark place he was inhabiting.
“What for?”
His eyes, when he looked up, were more gray than blue, a clear sky scudded with clouds. “For not saying you were sorry like it was somehow your fault, like most people do.”
That was a hard one to respond to. “I am sorry though, but for your losses. Especially for your sister. Because as much as my own sister drives me crazy trying to protect me, I can’t imagine life without her.”
He took a deep breath and smiled uncertainly as he raised his beer. “To sisters, then,” and she picked up her beer and they clinked bottles.
“I’ll drink to that.”
They had Chinese food in a restaurant nearby, honey shrimp—except they were called prawns here—and crispy duck with fried rice washed down with an almost local Margaret River white wine. The food was small-town Chinese restaurant good, and Mitch talked about his fly-in fly-out job at the mines, about the fourteen day shifts filled with twelve hour work days and big meals in the mess and maybe a swim before bed and then getting up the next day to do it all over again. Scarlett listened and crunched shrimp tails between her teeth and sucked honey off her fingers and thought that maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea that she’d come to Australia after all, or she would never have known about any of this kind of lifestyle.
Or more importantly, that otherwise she would never have met Mitch. Maybe she should send Travis a thank -you postcard from Broome? She was halfway tempted.
And Mitch watched a woman who could follow his every word and ask questions while eating with gusto and relish and who wasn’t afraid to get her fingers dirty in the process. And he liked it. A lot.
When she licked her fingers clean, he wished she’d offered them to him first.
And then he smacked his lustful thoughts down hard. He was trying to help her out. Offer her a solution to her problems, so that whatever was bothering her would disappear.
At least, that had been his intention.
Now that she was coming with him to Broome he wasn’t so sure of his motives. She was fun. A breath of fresh air into his highly regulated existence. A temporary cowgirl for a short -term problem.
And while sex wasn’t part of their deal, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened. He wasn’t looking for commitment but where was the risk? She was going home in a few days. And they were going to be sharing a villa after all. Sure, it was a big villa. Loads of space for two.
Loads and loads of space.
And one really big bed.
Chapter Five
They went shopping the next day, to a boutique in a building that would have been right at home in Marietta: an old three level Victorian with arched windows and a veranda that had been prettified up outside in pinks and whites. Inside was a confection of dainty bow-legged furniture topped with flower arrangements and there were crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and wall-length mirrors reflecting the rows and rows of tulle, satin, and silk dresses.
Scarlett had to pause for a second, remembering a trip not long ago to the local bridal store, Married in Marietta , where she thought she’d found the bargain of the century. A two thousand dollar Vera Wang designer last-season gown marked down to three hundred and fifty bucks, all because some poor woman had been stood up at the church and wanted to return it. It had been crazy because she’d only gone in to the store for a look around because the town was full of the talk of the Graff Hotel’s one hundredth anniversary Great Wedding Giveaway. She knew she’d never be part of that, because she was so full of thinking
She smiled her thanks. “So, any other family?”
His lips pulled tight. “I had a sister. Once.”
Crap. She’d done it again. She really had to learn to quit while she was ahead. She put her beer down. “I need the bathroom.”
She was half way to her feet when he said, “Thank you,” from whatever dark place he was inhabiting.
“What for?”
His eyes, when he looked up, were more gray than blue, a clear sky scudded with clouds. “For not saying you were sorry like it was somehow your fault, like most people do.”
That was a hard one to respond to. “I am sorry though, but for your losses. Especially for your sister. Because as much as my own sister drives me crazy trying to protect me, I can’t imagine life without her.”
He took a deep breath and smiled uncertainly as he raised his beer. “To sisters, then,” and she picked up her beer and they clinked bottles.
“I’ll drink to that.”
They had Chinese food in a restaurant nearby, honey shrimp—except they were called prawns here—and crispy duck with fried rice washed down with an almost local Margaret River white wine. The food was small-town Chinese restaurant good, and Mitch talked about his fly-in fly-out job at the mines, about the fourteen day shifts filled with twelve hour work days and big meals in the mess and maybe a swim before bed and then getting up the next day to do it all over again. Scarlett listened and crunched shrimp tails between her teeth and sucked honey off her fingers and thought that maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea that she’d come to Australia after all, or she would never have known about any of this kind of lifestyle.
Or more importantly, that otherwise she would never have met Mitch. Maybe she should send Travis a thank -you postcard from Broome? She was halfway tempted.
And Mitch watched a woman who could follow his every word and ask questions while eating with gusto and relish and who wasn’t afraid to get her fingers dirty in the process. And he liked it. A lot.
When she licked her fingers clean, he wished she’d offered them to him first.
And then he smacked his lustful thoughts down hard. He was trying to help her out. Offer her a solution to her problems, so that whatever was bothering her would disappear.
At least, that had been his intention.
Now that she was coming with him to Broome he wasn’t so sure of his motives. She was fun. A breath of fresh air into his highly regulated existence. A temporary cowgirl for a short -term problem.
And while sex wasn’t part of their deal, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened. He wasn’t looking for commitment but where was the risk? She was going home in a few days. And they were going to be sharing a villa after all. Sure, it was a big villa. Loads of space for two.
Loads and loads of space.
And one really big bed.
Chapter Five
They went shopping the next day, to a boutique in a building that would have been right at home in Marietta: an old three level Victorian with arched windows and a veranda that had been prettified up outside in pinks and whites. Inside was a confection of dainty bow-legged furniture topped with flower arrangements and there were crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and wall-length mirrors reflecting the rows and rows of tulle, satin, and silk dresses.
Scarlett had to pause for a second, remembering a trip not long ago to the local bridal store, Married in Marietta , where she thought she’d found the bargain of the century. A two thousand dollar Vera Wang designer last-season gown marked down to three hundred and fifty bucks, all because some poor woman had been stood up at the church and wanted to return it. It had been crazy because she’d only gone in to the store for a look around because the town was full of the talk of the Graff Hotel’s one hundredth anniversary Great Wedding Giveaway. She knew she’d never be part of that, because she was so full of thinking
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