‘I do have to go out there fairly often. But my apartment is in the centre of Perth, right on the river.’
‘That sounds nice.’
‘It is, although I don’t get as much time there as I’d like.’
‘That’s a shame.’
They walked on in silence, listening to the country music blasting from a set of loudspeakers and the chatter of the people strolling around them.
‘You should plan a trip over sometime. I can show you around.’
Bel looked across at him, surprised by the offer, but even more surprised at the fact she didn’t automatically dismiss the idea.That’s … odd.‘Everything seems remarkably on track for the wedding day,’ she said, changing the conversation to avoid further analysis.
‘It should be,’ he said. ‘They’ve hired one of the best wedding planners in the business.’
Ah yes. Gisele, a name spoken in hushed, reverent tones for months.
‘Hungry?’ he asked as they passed by a caravan that was producing a mouthwatering aroma of barbecued onions and meat.
‘Starving.’
Tate ordered their food, then they found a spot to sit on a bench beneath one of the many trees planted in the centreof the main street, which was now closed to traffic and made the perfect impromptu picnic spot.
‘Tell me about Bel Buckley,’ Tate said as they ate, sitting side by side.
‘Not much to tell. I’m pretty dull.’
‘I doubt that.’ He grinned. ‘Larkin told me bits and pieces.’
‘Oh? Like what?’
‘That your parents died when you were young, and you were raised by your grandparents. That you live in your gran’s house and that she’s tried to get you to move to the city but you seem stuck out here.’
‘I wouldn’t say I was stuck,’ Bel said, and again wondered why she didn’t feel the same outrage at Tate’s comments that she’d felt at Dean’s. Maybe Dean bringing it up had hit a little too close to home. When he’d known her, her dreams for the future had been very different to what she’d chosen.
‘You must get bored, though? I mean, what do you do all day? Surely if you like to shop and go out, it would be easier closer to the city?’
‘I don’t really need to go shopping and spend all day lunching with friends. I’m not like Larkin and the others.’
‘No, I can see that. I like that about you. The whole socialite thing gets old after a while. I prefer someone with a bit of substance.’ He paused. ‘You’re different to anyone else I’ve ever met, and I can’t pinpoint the reason.’
That would be because you’ve never associated with the working class?That snarky little voice inside Bel’s head wascertainly vocal today. She squashed it back down. It wasn’t his fault he came from the same kind of wealth and private school background as her cousin. Although she wondered at his open dismissal of the women he would most likely normally associate with.
At some point, they’d moved closer together and she could feel the solid length of his thigh against her own, which was very distracting—as was whatever cologne he was wearing. She resisted the urge to lean in and sniff his neck.
‘The movie should be starting soon,’ Bel said, searching for something to take her mind off the fact she could almost feel her skin burning from the contact.
‘Actually, I was thinking it would be nice to find some place a little quieter … maybe you could invite me back to your place?’
Bel swallowed. Her place? Alone, with Tate? A roar of desire rushed through her, almost drowning out the noise around them. Her heart rate kicked up a notch as she pictured them sitting together on the lounge, just the two of them, with no distractions. Her gaze dropped to his hands and she imagined them holding her face as he leaned in and kissed her deeply. Her lips and skin tingled at the thought.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ the loudspeaker suddenly announced, making Bel jump. ‘Vote counting has now concluded and the winning sculpture will be announced in front of the pub. Please make your way over.’
‘Wow, that was fast,’ Bel murmured. ‘Come on, I don’t want to miss it.’
‘Okay,’ Tate said with good-humoured resignation.
The crowd that gathered filled both sides of the main road and there was a palpable hum of curiosity in the air. Bel spotted Bob Baxter standing close to the front of the pub, wearing a jovial grin as he shook hands with people around him. Bel had never liked the man. There had been rumours circulating for years about some of his dodgier dealings and there had always been something insincere about the way he smiled, something she’d never really trusted.
