“What,” I ground out, “rhyming slang?”
“Seppos,” he replied blithely. “Septic tanks.”
“You named us after a reservoir of crap!”
“American soldiers were stationed in Australia during the war and getting all the girls.” He winked at me. “Our boys were a little… frustrated at the attention the Ya… Americans were getting, so they came up with a suitable name for them. They also might’ve thought some of the U.S. officers were full of shit.”
“OK, I can accept that Australia is full of dangerous things and that you guys have a really weird sense of humour, but being called a Seppo? Nope, nuh uh, no way.”
He opened the door with a flourish.
“Well, seeing as you’re taking one for the team and helping Troy first thing in the morning, I think we can abide by that,” he said. “I’ll call you whatever you like if I don’t have to deal with Troy’s grumpy arse.”
But he wasn’t so grumpy this morning. I remembered every second of the moment he opened his bedroom door, including that small twist of a smile when he caught me looking at his dick. Maybe sexual harassment was the key to keeping the boss happy.
“I’ll feed the cattle and you won’t give me any nicknames that are sewer adjacent,” I said. “Got it.”
The koala moved a lot slower than the others, but his raucous cries made clear he was happy to see us. Bronson set up the other branches around the rescue, but as I reached up to place one of mine in the crook of the koala’s tree, it started to nibble on the leaves.
That’s when my heart stopped.
The moment was frozen in time and yet the koala’s leather nose wrinkled as it chewed on the leaves. Its grey fur looked so damn plush, I just wanted to snuggle the creature, but knowing it would stress it out stopped me. Instead, I watched in wonder, smiling as it ate one leaf, then another.
“Yeah, you’re a perfect fit here.” I looked up to see Bronson standing there, hand on his hip. “Charlie’s been dying for some help. We try to jump in where possible, but Troy’s always barking orders at us. Glad you joined us, Macca.”
“Not bad for a Seppo?” I asked with a grin.
“Not bad for a Seppo,” he agreed.
Not long after that, he got a call, forcing him to walk out and do whatever his brother ordered, but I was right where I wanted to be. Water troughs were refilled and I went to work scooping up scat and tossing it where Charlie had shown me it went. Oh, and that meme about square wombat poop? Absolutely true, it appeared. I was mid way through filling a wheelbarrow full of old hay and bodily waste, when the door to the rescue opened.
“It’s OK,” I called out. Bronson said he’d try to get back and assist if possible. “There’s no need to help. I’ve got this.”
“Alright, I won’t then.” That cocky drawl, it was not familiar at all. A man ambled closer, looking very pleased with himself. That might be down to the fact he was the picture of blond, masculine perfection that the Hemsworth brothers exemplified. He grinned at me as he came to a stop, then offered me his hand. “Beau Argyle,” he said, “and who’re you, pretty?
Chapter 10
Mackenzie
“Pretty?” I burst out laughing, then dropped the spade into the wheelbarrow. “You could call me a lot of things right now, but pretty isn’t one of them. Stinky, dirty…” I looked down and blanched at a mysterious brown mark on my overalls and resisted rubbing it. “Really hoping that’s not actual animal crap on my pants. Anyway, I’m Mackenzie James.”
I went to take his hand, then thought twice about it, holding out my elbow.
“Ahh… maybe we need to do that non-contact shake or something like they did during COVID,” I said.
He snorted and then stepped forward, the sleeve of his shirt fighting for its life as his bicep flexed, right before tapping elbows with me.
“An American.” He sidled closer, forcing me to stare up at him. “You travelled all the way out to our fair country.” His blue eyes dropped down. “Only to get stuck shovelling shit on the Drysdale’s farm?”
“Well, it’s a farm stay, not a five-star resort.” I frowned. “So are you looking for Charlie or?—?”
“No, I was looking for you.” His eyes held mine steadily and when was the last time a man looked at me like that? Well, never. Maybe Alex back when we were still teens and that was enough to hold my attention. My eyes roamed, taking in the perfectly pressed moleskin pants and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, because there was a kind of casual elegance about him. “There’s a lot more to see than just this farm.” He glanced around. “And an animal rescue.”
I blinked, remembering the way the dawn bathed the valley as Troy and I drove up to the paddock. The silhouettes of the emus as they picked their way across the field felt like it was burned on my retina.
“I’ve seen plenty of amazing things so far,” I replied.
“Has Troy taken you to any of the local water holes?” he said. “Or down to the lake? Have you even been into town?”
