The urge to kiss her had been almost overwhelming.Her competence and organised brain were such a turn on.She’d made copious notes as they’d reviewed the garden and had a way of prioritising the tasks.He wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the day she had a complete project plan with day-by-day tasks to tick off.
She would have done well in the army.
And the moment back in the house, when she’d told him she was happy for him, made him remember how selfless and giving she was.
Then she’d dismissed what they’d had as a product of their youth and he’d had the crazy urge to argue with her and tell her it hadn’t been, that he still cared for her.
Luckily he had a lot of training in how to keep his mouth shut.
It had hurt a lot more than he wanted it to.
But he only had himself to blame.
With a sigh, he hurried to catch up with the woman who still held a piece of his heart.
By the time they were done, it was mid-morning.He joined her in the kitchen and she put on the kettle, then took a packet of ANZAC biscuits from the cupboard.With an apologetic glance, she put them on the table.“They’re not as good as Aunt Maggie’s.”
“Nothing is as good as Aunt Maggie’s.”He smiled.“But thanks.”
“I’m hoping to find her recipe book somewhere.She taught me how to make a lot of her biscuits, but I don’t remember all of them.”
Another memory hit him of walking into the kitchen when Chelsea was baking.She’d worn a frilly apron and had flour on her face, and all over the bench.She might have been making scones.Aunt Maggie had been out on an errand and he’d been tackling the bougainvillea by the gate and was hot, sweaty and frustrated.
Chelsea had smiled at him and told him the scones would be out in a minute and to wash up.It had been such a homely vision, unlike anything he’d ever experienced.Overcome with emotion, he’d pushed her against the bench and kissed her senseless.
He’d wanted her, wanted the family they could build together.
Until he realised he couldn’t join the army and give Chelsea everything she wanted.He couldn’t let her settle for less because of him.
Shaking from the emotion of the memory, he moved to look out the window.How could he still feel so strongly after over a decade?
“Are you all right?”Chelsea asked.
He closed his eyes against the rush of warmth her gentle words gave him.“Fine.”He had to say something that would appease her.“Just thinking about Aunt Maggie’s biscuits,” he lied and turned to face her.
She smiled.“They were pretty amazing.”She slid into a chair.“Do you think it’s foolish of me to restore the garden?”
The uncertainty in her voice surprised him.“No, I don’t.It’s what she would have wanted and what’s right.”
“It’s a huge undertaking.”
“It is.”He sat on the chair opposite her.“But I have no doubt we can do it.”We.The word had such a nice comfort to it.A collaboration, a commitment.Maybe he needed to be committed.He was here for a month, until his superiors were happy he was healed.He needed to remember that.
“Thanks, Ethan.”She reached out and squeezed his hand.“I needed to hear that.”
Her fingers were warm from holding her mug, and they were soft, delicate.The hands of someone who had done no physical work for a while.But he knew she could do it, had seen firsthand how hard she worked when it was required.
The urge to turn his hand up and hold hers was strong, so instead he pulled away.He cleared his throat.“So the next step is cleaning the cabins?”
She nodded.“Aunt Maggie still has cleaning products in the laundry, so I didn’t need to buy anything.”
They had two days before the lawnmower man would be here to tame the grass and then they could tackle the gardens, but there were plenty of buildings which needed sprucing up.
Ethan got to his feet.“Shall we get started?”
He needed some distance from this amazing woman.
***
