‘So you traipse all the way here, regardless of the weather? You’re a flipping star, my friend.’
‘You know it,’ Tien called over his shoulder as he dashed across the road.
Jemma chuckled. Even when he wasn’t doing anything, Tien gave off a busy vibe. Then she frowned; she couldn’t recall ever having told Tien where her father’s cafe—or, by extension, her apartment—was.
As she made her way through the cafe to the apartment, her heart beat faster, and this time it wasn’t with excitement. Tien had been bringing her coffee for over a year. Why would he not have mentioned where it was from? Instead, he’d acted surprised when she said she lived above the cafe.
Her door was locked, the apartment secure and untouched, and she took in a deep, quavery breath. She was being irrational; there was nothing sinister in Tien’s gesture. He was probably just embarrassed by his slightly stalkerish tendencies. Her address could have been pulled from the company files easily enough.
She refused to entertain for even a second the thought that Tien might be behind the notes. There was no logic, no rationale, no motive.
27
Hamish
Waiting for Jemma to arrive, Hamish couldn’t recall when, in his adult life, he’d felt this excited—actually, even dialling right back to when he was a teenager, he’d never experienced this stomach-churning enthusiasm. Which meant he was being bloody ridiculous; Jemma would have returned to Settlers Bridge irrespective of whether he was there. He couldn’t pretend to himself that she was coming solely to see him. But, hey, he was willing to take what he could get. If that kiss a couple of days back had left either of them in any doubt about their attraction, the hours of flirtation on the phone since clinched it; now it was simply a matter of working out what they could do with that information, because he was sure as hell there’d never been such a mismatched couple on the face of the earth.
Ethan had crashed overnight, but there was no sign of him in the house now. Which was good—except, Hamish realised, as he raked his fingers through his hair and tugged the doorhandle, he hadn’t given any thought as to how togreet Jemma. They’d parted with passionate kisses and spent hours since talking about everything under the sun. Did they act as acquaintances? Friends? Something more?
‘Hey, there.’ Jemma smiled and stepped through the doorway, theatrically dropping her bag and then pressing the full length of her supple body against him.
Her directness didn’t entirely solve his problems, though, because his body instantly responded to her presence, forcing the awareness that his bedroom was only metres away—and he just happened to have made his bed this morning, rooting through cupboards to find decent sheets.
He had to get a grip. He’d kept it together the other night, even pretended to sleep well in the same bed—but every time he saw Jemma, the emotions hit a little harder. A restless urgency built within his chest, urging him to action, threatening his restraint. Yet he wasn’t about to allow his usual impulsiveness to screw up any chance he had here.
Instinct took over and his arms went around Jemma. She fitted so perfectly, the feel of her somehow reflective of her personality: substantial, assertive; one hundred per cent present and authentic. Her lips, her seeking hands, matched his—but there was no surprise there; she’d never been anything but outspokenly forthright.
‘You taste good,’ she murmured.
He snorted with laughter. ‘Not old handbag leather, then?’
‘I might have to update my requirements.’
He cocked an eyebrow. Was that the tiniest shift in the right direction? ‘Good. Because I’m not too keen on being seen as an accessory.’
Jemma pushed her palms against his chest to create a little distance between them. A crease appeared between her dark eyes. ‘Let’s stop dancing around the subject. What exactly do we have going on here?’
‘Really not into allowing organic progression, are you?’
‘Life’s short. You were the one who said that, remember?’
‘No. But I’m stoked that you do.’
‘Then I’m thrilled that I thrill you,’ she said, stretching up for another kiss. She threaded a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
If anyone had asked him a few months back, he would have said that he didn’t care for over-assertive women. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Everything Jemma did, everything she said—even when it meant she was arguing with him—was challenging, stimulating, life-affirming. ‘What we have going on here is an adventure,’ he blurted.
Jemma’s eyes narrowed and she licked her lips as though savouring the taste of him. ‘You’re right. That’s exactly what this is. Huh.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘You know what? I don’t think I’ve ever been on an adventure before.’
It was suddenly hard to breathe, despite the crisp breeze winding through the open door. ‘Looks like it’s something new we get to experience together, then,’ he managed.
She stepped back, waggling a finger at him. ‘See, from what I’ve heard around town, I wouldn’t have expected you to admit to being inexperienced.’
He met her gaze levelly. ‘Okay, fair shot. Yep, there are parts of me that are very experienced, and hopefully that’ll be to our advantage. But I meant more the adult relationship aspect.’
‘I know exactly what you mean.’ Jemma’s tone was serious, but she chased the words with a wicked grin. ‘But I’ll be the judge of whether your other experience can be considered advantageous.’
‘Never had any complaints,’ he forced himself to say. After all, he had to keep some semblance of normality, counter the wild surges of adrenaline at the realisation thatthisadventurewas something he could never have conceived of in his wildest fantasies. He caught the rubberised squelch of light footsteps, and glanced toward the road. ‘Morning,’ he called.
