Sweet on You

A Patterson’s Bluff story

Stefanie London

Copyright © 2021 Stefanie London

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Editing: Free Bird Editing

Cover design: Kari March Designs

To all the readers who asked for more Patterson’s Bluff books, we’re just getting started xx

Author Note

Thanks for checking out Sweet On You. I’m an Australian author and while the small town of Patterson’s Bluff is fictional, the Aussie language is definitely real. As such, you may notice some unfamiliar terms, phrases, and spelling that differs from what you’re used to. I hope you find this a fun part of your reading experience.

Welcome to Patterson’s Bluff.

1

“She’s… beautiful.” Zoey Hutcherson pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head, unable to contain her delight.

In fairness, containing any kind of emotion wasn’t Zoey’s strong suit. Her brother called her the World’s Worst Poker Player for a reason—whatever entered her mind may as well be scribbled across her face in red ink. Tells? She had a hundred of them.

“I don’t know if beautiful is the word I’d use.” Gwen Marsh, Zoey’s best friend and soon-to-be business partner, cocked her head.

The vintage Volkswagen Westfalia camper, Zoey’s latest purchase, sat in front of them. It had seen better days. Aside from being painted a hideous shade of pond scum green, it had a cracked side window and a nasty-looking dent in the back, where apparently it had “nudged” a bollard of some kind. Oh, and the engine wasn’t working. The owner had paid to have it towed over and now it was sitting in the driveway like an oversized paperweight.

“You can’t base your opinion on what you see now,” Zoey said, slinging her arm around Gwen’s shoulders and gesturing with her other hand. “You have to base it on the potential.”

“What if all I see is potential for this to become a financial disaster?” Gwen frowned. “I know you wanted to go the DIY route and all, but…”

“But what?”

“Would you want to eat something that came out of that?”

Zoey sighed. Okay, so Gwen had a point. But what her friend saw as an ugly hunk of metal, Zoey saw as a good bit of earth waiting for some seeds to be planted. She saw their food truck business blossoming and growing. With Zoey’s expert coffee-making skills and Gwen’s talent for making addictive sweet treats, Sweet on You would be a success.

Patterson’s Bluff might be a small Aussie town where things changed at a snail’s pace, but if there was one thing people could agree on, it was that food was life. They had bakeries, pubs, restaurants and cafes galore—and with the growing tourism each summer, Zoey knew they could make their business a success. Besides, the best thing about a food truck was how portable it was! They could seek opportunities all up and down the coast.

“All it needs is a bit of TLC,” she said, squeezing Gwen’s shoulders. “A fresh coat of paint, a new window, and some elbow grease for the interior and we’ll be ready to go. Dad came with me to have a look at it and he’s certain he can fix whatever is wrong with the engine. He won’t charge us, either. Perks of having a dad who’s a mechanic.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Gwen said, with a laugh. “I guess I’m still feeling shell-shocked by this. I mean, I only came back home a month ago and we had one tipsy conversation about going into business together, and now…”

Zoey nodded. She did have a tendency to jump into things with both feet and Gwen was the kind of person who put in hours of research before she’d even buy a lipstick. They were opposites, even on the outside. Gwen was all shiny blond hair and minimal makeup, and Zoey’s hair could best be described as “inspired by My Little Pony.” But in her mind, that was the precise thing that made them such good friends—they balanced each other out.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Zoey asked. “I thought you didn’t want to go back to working in an office.”

“I don’t.” Gwen shook her head. “I’m done with chasing the corporate dream, at least for now. I want to be here, and I want to be doing this, too. But it’s a big change in how I saw my life turning out, that’s all.”

Zoey had never harboured big dreams like her best friend. Growing up, school wasn’t a concern, because her mind was stuck on more immediate problems like whether or not there would be food in the house or if her mother was going to be passed out drunk on the living room floor. It was hard to have dreams when survival wasn’t certain. But it had taught Zoey that she needed to seize every moment and never be too afraid to make a leap, because what if tomorrow didn’t come?

Life was for living, not for fearing.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said quietly. “I missed you a lot.”

Gwen’s face bloomed into a smile. “I missed you a lot, too. The worst thing about Perth was the fact that I didn’t get to see you every day.”

Differences aside, their friendship was one of the highlights of Zoey’s life.

“What’s the next step?” Gwen asked.

“We need to get a roadworthy certificate, and Dad said he can help with that after all the repairs are completed. We also need to have a general safety inspection.” Zoey pulled the door open and showed off the inside. “The guy who owned it before put in a decent size fridge and chest freezer, because he used to set up on the beach and sell drinks. That means we have heaps of room to chill things like milk for the coffee and any of your desserts that need to be kept cold.”

“I was thinking we could do ice cream sandwiches, but gourmet ones where the biscuits are dipped in chocolate and decorated with nuts or edible glitter or fancy sprinkles. Or we could use ANZAC biscuits instead.” Gwen’s eyes lit up. “Oh, and we could try deconstructed pavlova! Think of how refreshing it would be to have a cup with some fresh whipped cream and chewy bits of meringue and pieces of fruit.”

“See, this is why I know it will work. You’re an amazing baker and I make awesome coffee. People will want what we’re selling.” A feeling of excitement bubbled up in Zoey’s chest. Her gut was telling her that Sweet on You was a great idea—a dessert food truck with Aussie-inspired sweet treats and delicious coffee made by two locals was bound to be a hit. “But can you please stop, because I haven’t had lunch and I’m salivating at the thought of all that.”

“Good thing I brought those cupcakes you requested.” Gwen went to her car and retrieved a plastic container with a high lid. “Two coconut lime, two banana nut, and two dark chocolate mint.”

“It would be a crime for you to be stuck working in an office when you can make things like this.” Zoey took the box from her friend, ignoring how Gwen rolled her eyes at the comment. They didn’t see eye-to-eye on Gwen losing her big fancy HR job—she saw it as a massive failure, but Zoey saw it as an opportunity. “But they aren’t for me.”

“No?” Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Who are they for?”

“Mack.”

Since Gwen’s eyebrow was already raised, it couldn’t go any higher without flying off the top of her head. “Brian MacDermot?”

“The one and only.”

Nobody called Brian by his real name. He’d been Mack as long as Zoey had known him, which must have been coming up on seventeen years now. She’d met him in the second week of grade four when her big brother, Sean, had brought a friend home from school. To say she’d been instantly smitten was an understatement.

To say she was still harbouring the world’s most epic long-time crush was also an understatement.

“Dare I ask?” Gwen replied with an amused smile.

“I don’t want to go into the safety inspection blind and since that’s Mack’s field of expertise, I thought he could help.” Mack was a construction site safety manager, which was a little different to what the insurance company would require… but safety was safety, right? It couldn’t be that different. “I thought he’d be able to catch things that might trip us up.”

Gwen still had an amused expression on her face, which said she thought Zoey’s reasoning was ninety-nine percent bullshit and one percent bending the truth.

“Shut up,” Zoey grumbled, holding the container close to her chest.

Gwen held both hands up. “I didn’t say a word.”

Was this an excuse to see Mack? Maybe. But did it serve her business purposes to do some extra due diligence? Absolutely. Therefore, as far as she was concerned, that absolved her of any ridicule. Besides, she did value his opinion and she’d welcome any opportunity to have his practical, level-headed input at a crucial stage of setting up her business. It had nothing to do with Mack’s broad chest and warm brown eyes, or the delicious intensity he’d had ever since he was a lanky teenage boy playing footy in her backyard.

Absolutely nothing at all.

2

Brian “Mack” MacDermot dragged a hand across his forehead, wishing he’d opted for shorts instead of jeans. Late summer was always like that—just when you thought it was cooling down, you’d get surprised by a scorcher. In addition to feeling the heat, he was dusty and grimy from spending a day on the site of a new multi-residential construction project. His boss, however, looked completely unfazed by the heat and given he was wearing a suit, that was nothing short of a miracle.

“Don’t let Steve get in your head,” his boss, Nick Walters, said as he shut the door on Mack’s Holden Commodore ute. They’d driven to the site together since it was over an hour away, and now they’d returned to Mack’s place so Nick could pick up his car. “He’s got his eye on the deadlines, which I pay him for. And you’re being a stickler for the details, which I pay you for.”

“So you admit to paying us to butt heads,” Mack replied with a snort.

“Basically.” Nick grinned. “I want it done quick, but I also want it done right.”

Mack was the “done right” part of that equation and his relationship not only with Steve but all the project managers could be tense at times. Despite Nick making it clear that they were part of the same team, Mack was the person who highlighted issues and shortcomings, which didn’t always make him a welcome figure on site. Some of that also had to do with Mack’s no-BS attitude. Putting lipstick on a pig never helped anybody, as far as he was concerned, and so if someone had stuffed up, he didn’t hesitate to call it out.

“I appreciate you being hard-headed enough to go toe-to-toe with him,” Nick added. “I know he intimidates the crap out of most of the guys, but he’s a good bloke.”

A good bloke who had to be over six foot four, was covered in tats, and had a beard that wouldn’t look out of place in a motorcycle gang, mind you. But Mack wasn’t the kind of guy who was easily intimidated. He’d been blessed with his father’s quiet yet unshakable confidence, and no amount of bluster would budge him from a decision. Not even Steve getting up in his face.

“I’ve got your back, Nick. I’d never sign off on anything unless I was certain it was safe.”

“Good man.” Nick shrugged out of his charcoal suit jacket and slung it over one arm. He wasn’t wearing a tie, but he still exuded that stylish look that had most women around town—and some guys—going gaga over him.

Mack, on the other hand, knew he lacked his boss’s polish. He was a salt of the earth type who was more than happy getting his hands dirty doing the job he loved, or working on some furniture restoration in his shed. Simple things, maybe, but he liked being good with his hands.

As he and Nick were finishing up their conversation about plans for the following week, the sound of a motorcycle cut through the air. It had a distinctive rumble and Mack knew exactly who was riding up his street even before the bike came into view and he saw the telltale flutter of multicoloured hair from underneath a helmet.

Zoey Hutcherson.

She had a leather jacket on top, but her legs were bare between the hem of a frayed pair of denim shorts and some chunky black leather riding boots. How many times had he told her to put all her leathers on if she was going for a ride? That was Zoey in a nutshell. Reckless. Rebellious. Unafraid of any bloody thing that might hurt her.

But he’d be lying through his teeth if he said there wasn’t something deeply appealing about the sight of her smooth, tanned legs straddling the bike and all that glorious purple, green and blue hair flying like streamers behind her. The girl was heartbreak waiting to happen.

Woman, he corrected himself. Zoey Hutcherson left girlhood behind quite some time ago.

“You might want to pick your jaw up off the ground before she gets here,” Nick said, chuckling.

“I’m not staring.”

“Nah, and wombats don’t shit cubes, right?”

Mack snorted. “Since when are you an expert on wombat excrement?”

“I’ve told you before, young Padawan, I know everything.” Nick clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, in all your three extra years of life you’ve gained so much wisdom,” Mack drawled. “Teach me, master.”

Nick laughed and headed off with a wave. Every day Mack was grateful he got to work for someone he considered a friend as well as a boss. It sure made dealing with the Steves of the world a little bit easier.

Zoey’s bike slowed as she approached Mack’s house and he half-willed her to keep on driving. Half, because only his brain was backing that desire. Other parts of him, namely those of a more southern nature, were hoping she’d bring those sweet legs walking right up to him. That push and pull encompassed his entire relationship with his best mate’s little sister—and it was the very reason he’d never given in to his attraction to her, because the head on his shoulders was the only one that got a say in the matter.

In any matter.

Zoey killed the engine and swung her leg around the back of the bike, leaving Mack’s mouth feeling drier than a summer’s day. That feeling only intensified when she pulled her helmet off and shook her colourful hair, sending it tumbling around her shoulders.

“Hey Mack, I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.” She shot him a smile as she unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a fitted white T-shirt underneath.

He cleared his throat. “Sure. What’s up?”

She stashed the helmet under one arm and opened up a storage box attached to the back of the bike. When she pulled out a plastic container with a handle, Mack raised an eyebrow. Why was Zoey bringing him food?

This couldn’t be good.

Her gaze met his, her full lips curving into a wicked smile that confirmed his fears. “I’ve come to seduce you… with sugar.”

3

Zoey followed Mack into his house, trying not to stare at how delicious his backside looked in his work jeans. Some people liked guys who wore fancy watches and well-cut suits, but she was a jeans gal through and through. Pair that with strong arms and hands that were a little on the rough side and she was sold.

“We have three types of cupcakes,” she said as she placed the container down on the island in Mack’s kitchen and pulled off the lid. “Coconut lime, banana nut, and dark chocolate mint.”

“Did you make these?” He looked at the items warily.

She couldn’t blame him. She might make a coffee that tasted like liquid gold, but her cooking skills were… well, let’s just say that her old family dog, Minnie, had once spat out a piece of Zoey’s lemon cake, and that dog ate everything.

“God no.” She pulled a face. “Gwen made them.”

“And why exactly are you seducing me with sugar?” he asked, tossing his wallet and phone into the bowl by the front door.

His house was completely open, with only a bedroom, office, and bathroom hidden away behind closed doors. The most magnificent aspect of the house, however, was the view out the back window that showcased the rugged beauty of the Patterson’s Bluff coastline. A perfect azure sky met with deep blue water, and foamy waves crashed against the shoreline below. The squawk of seagulls was a muted soundtrack playing in the background, and the air, even inside the house, smelled clean, crisp, and slightly salty.

“I need your help.” Zoey put on her most winning smile and leaned against the kitchen island, fully aware that the neckline of her top showed off a hint of cleavage. Okay, so flashing some boob might not be strictly above board as far as her “due diligence” plans were concerned, but who could blame her? She might be twenty-five, but she still had not yet given up hope that Mack would notice her one day. “Pretty please with cupcakes on top.”

“Help with what?” he asked, still eyeing Gwen’s desserts. He wanted one, she could tell, but the man had restraint that Zoey would never understand. Seriously, if there were some kind of self-control Olympics, Mack would be a gold medallist in every category.

And Zoey would be the person who got turned into a meme for faceplanting at the starting blocks.

She sucked in a breath. “I’m opening a business.”

“Another one?” he asked with more than a little sprinkling of scepticism.

She deflated. The one downside to having known Mack almost her whole life was that he’d seen all the times she’d tried and stumbled in the past. She’d started and failed at more than one business venture in her life, including making art to sell at markets (too low margin), doing Tupperware-style parties (too much hard selling), dressing up as a fairy princess for kids’ parties (getting the glitter off was a nightmare), and even starting an online business selling custom printed mugs, which unfortunately never took off.

But this idea would work. She knew it.

“Yes, another one.” She nodded. “I’m opening a dessert food truck with Gwen.”

Mack scrubbed a hand over his face, which was not a good sign. It was his go-to move when he wanted to say something blunt and was trying to buy himself a few more seconds to figure out a way to phrase his feedback more delicately. But, to be clear, there was nothing delicate about Brian MacDermot. Nothing at all.

“Go on, say it.” Zoey crossed her arms over her chest.

“Zo…” He sighed. “You can’t bake. And last I was aware, you also couldn’t park anything bigger than that death trap outside. How are you going to run a food truck?”

“Gwen is going to focus on the baking and I’m going to manage the other bits, like running the coffee machine, keeping track of our inventory, doing social media, and booking events like farmer’s markets and parties and stuff.” She reached for one of the cupcakes, opting for the lime coconut because she knew he enjoyed anything with a zesty citrus flavour. “Come on, you know you want to try it.”

Shaking his head, he took the cupcake from her and peeled the paper away from the side. “You caught me in a moment of weakness. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

Clasping her hands together, hope fluttering in her chest, she watched as Mack took a bite of the cupcake. The mound of creamy icing and the pale, fluffy cake offered no resistance. He groaned as he savoured the bite, his eyes fluttering shut in a way that made it hard for Zoey to breathe. Despite his uptight personality and mastery of restraint, there were a few times over the years when she’d seen Mack lose that hard outer shell for a fleeting moment, and it always made her want him more.

“Good, right?” she encouraged.

He held up a finger. “Shh. Eating.”

She grinned. “See? Gwen has a magic touch in the kitchen and you know my coffee is the best in town.”

His warm gaze met hers. Some people thought brown eyes were boring. Clearly, they’d never seen Mack’s eyes. They almost glowed with shades of toffee, chocolate, and whisky, and coupled with his wavy light brown hair, heavy brows, and full, sensual lips…

Stop lusting and start selling!

“I need to borrow your keen eye so I can get ready for an insurance inspection, and all you have to do is point out all the things that are wrong. You love pointing out things that are wrong! It’ll be fun.”

Mack frowned as he finished the last bite of the cupcake. “Why do you think I love pointing out things that are wrong?”

“Well, that’s your job isn’t it? And I know you love your job. Besides, you’re really good at it.” She bounced on her heels. “Please. It would mean the world to me.”

“Why don’t you get Sean to take a look?”

Zoey snorted. “Because my big brother is about as safety-conscious as a cat holding a flame thrower.”

In spite of himself, Mack laughed. “That’s quite a visual.”

“I love Sean and he’s been awesome with the encouragement side of things, but he’s less good with the actual detail side of things.” She nudged the container with the remaining cupcakes closer to Mack. “Since I only have one big brother, I have to look outside the family for support.”

“And you came to me?”

“Of course. You’re number one on my list.”

That statement was true in so many ways.

Mack’s expression softened like she hoped it would. She had him. He got a kick out of acting like a big, tough grump but underneath the gruff exterior was a heart of solid gold. Always had been. Always would be.

“Fine, I’ll help you,” he agreed with an air of reluctance. “But vehicle inspections are not my field of expertise.”

“I know. Anything you catch will be a big help.” An excited bubble expanded in her chest. “I really believe in this idea.”

“I can tell.” The corner of his lip lifted in a ghost of a smile, but his serious expression was back before she could fully appreciate it. “I’ll come around tomorrow.”

“Thanks Mack, I owe you one.”

She owed him more than one. Over the years, she’d called on him for favours more times than she could remember, always hoping he’d cash in one of the IOUs so she’d have a chance to help him in return. So far, no such luck. But she was the kind of person who prided herself on remaining hopeful no matter what challenges life threw her way.

And knowing she would get to see Mack tomorrow left her feeling very hopeful indeed.

4

Mack pulled up in front of Sean and Zoey’s place the following morning, cringing at the sight of the ugly green monstrosity in the driveway. He had to give it to her—for as long as he’d known Zoey Hutcherson, she was never afraid to bite off more than she could chew. She had more balls than a Christmas tree, as his dad would say.

As Mack was getting out of his car, the front door to the house flew open. Zoey waved with her usual bubbly energy. Her vibrant hair was pulled back into a bouncy ponytail and a long floral skirt sat low on her hips. She also wore a cropped top edged with a fringe that danced across her belly in the most tantalising way.

Good lord, the woman knew how to rev his engine.

For years he’d done his best to swallow the desire he had for her but, with every year, instead of getting easier it got harder. Pun totally intended. The fact that he’d been best mates with her older brother, Sean, since they were kids had nothing to do with it. In fact, Sean had commented on more than one occasion that Zoey’s taste in boyfriends was questionable at best, and that he wanted to see her find a guy who’d treat her right. Mack would absolutely treat her right—in and out of the bedroom.

But that wasn’t an option.

Because Mack strove for certain things in life—steadiness, predictability, discipline, security—and Zoey was the polar opposite of all that. He’d seen what recklessness and abandon could do to a family. His sister was exactly the same, a free spirit through and through. And where had that led? To her running away and him having to pick up the pieces in order to save his parents from bankruptcy.

“Good morning,” Zoey sang as she came over to him, bringing the scent of something sweet and floral with her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sean home?” he asked, retrieving his tablet so he could document the inspection.

She shook her head. “He’s helping Dad prune the big tree in his backyard.”

Mack raised an eyebrow. Zoey and Sean were super close, in part due to their difficult childhood. Their mother had experienced substance abuse issues for as long as anyone could remember, and their father had dealt with it the only way he knew how—by turning a blind eye and taking off for days at a time. For years, Zoey and Sean had struggled to have a relationship with either parent. Last he’d heard, their mum was living somewhere in Northern Victoria and rarely contacted them. As for their dad, he still lived in town. But according to Sean, they didn’t have much to do with one another.

“Dad’s, uh… he’s really making an effort to mend things lately,” Zoey said, as if sensing the questions bubbling away in his brain. “I encouraged Sean to spend some time with him.”

“You think he deserves another chance after ignoring you both your whole lives?” Mack couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. There was something about Zoey that roused protective urges inside him, and he’d had to stop himself on more than one occasion from visiting Mr. Hutcherson and giving him an earful.

“Doesn’t everybody deserve a second chance?” she asked softly. “We all mess up.”

“You deserve better, Zoey. You both do.”

“What we deserve and what we get doesn’t always line up.” Something flickered across her face, but her smile was back before he had time to catch on to what she was thinking. Her silvery blue eyes held his for a moment before darting away. “Anyway, do you want a drink or anything before we get started? I can put the kettle on.”

“No thanks.”

With the way his heart was thumping a little harder looking at Zoey’s vulnerable expression and sexy outfit, he needed to get this job over with as quickly as possible. He feared the day was coming where his legendary restraint would snap like a rubber band pulled too tight, and that meant he needed to keep his distance from her as much as possible.

Because right now, he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and kiss her long and hard until every worry in her head melted away. And he knew with absolute certainty that once he kissed Zoey Hutcherson there would be no going back.

An hour later Mack had come to one simple conclusion: the food truck was a hot mess.

Whoever had owned it before Zoey had done some serious DIY—which in this case really should be called FIUY. Fuck it up yourself. Because that’s exactly what they’d done.

He’d sent Zoey inside not long after he started poking around, because her pretty scent and eager expression were distracting him. But there was no putting off the bad news—it was quite possible she’d bought herself a lemon. Of course, if she’d asked him before making the purchase instead of diving in headfirst like she always did, then he could have saved her this mistake. Apparently her father had looked over the engine, but he didn’t have the skills to check the inside of the van. And from what Mack could see, the way the wiring had been done was a fire waiting to happen and the generator looked like it was on its last legs.

Not to mention that the thing needed a deep, deep clean.

“How’s it going?” Zoey popped up outside the van.

He had the top open so he could stand up, which was how the vehicle would be used when they were serving drinks and sweet treats. There was a ledge that folded down to act as a counter. He handed his tablet to Zoey through the opening. He’d made a list of everything she’d need to get more thoroughly checked out or repaired prior to seeking insurance.

She blinked. “That’s quite a list.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure it’s worth it.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you paid for this piece of crap, but the work that needs to be done could easily go into five figures. Between labour, parts—”

Zoey held up her hand. “I get it.”

“Why did you come to me after you bought this thing, and not before?” He hopped down onto the driveway.

“Because you would have talked me out of it.” She was still looking at the screen.

“Exactly. Someone should have talked you out of this.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He sighed. “You have a great job working at the cafe. Your boss is a nice person, you have steady hours, and it’s secure.”

“Steady and secure,” she parroted, bobbing her head. “Those are the ingredients for a fun life, right?”

“Fun is a priority when you’re a teenager, not an adult.”

Annoyance flashed in her eyes like lightning. “That’s you projecting. You seem to think I’m still a kid when I’m very much a woman.”

Oh, he did not need to be told that. He got an unwelcome reminder every time he looked at Zoey and felt his body respond to exactly how grown up she was.

“I’m not projecting. But running a business is no small thing. You’re going to need registration for this—”

“I need a Food Act registration with the local council and separate council approval to operate in a public space. Plus, a food safety supervisor certificate which I already have from working at the cafe.” She planted both hands on her hips. “What else have you got?”

Okay, clearly she had done her research. “What if you get stranded somewhere because the truck breaks down?”

“Roadside Assistance. No different to driving my bike or a car.”

Hmm. “And you think it’s safe for you to be working on your own? What if there’s a night market?”

Her expression softened a little. “I’ll have Gwen with me. And seriously, when was the last time something bad happened around here? I was reading the local bulletin last week and the biggest news story was that Mrs. Hylander called the police on an ‘intruder’ which turned out to be a hungry possum.”

Good point.

“I… I don’t want you to make another mistake,” he added, hoping she understood that his concern came from a good place.

“Ouch. What’s one more mistake flung onto the huge pile of all the other mistakes I’ve made?” she said, handing the tablet back to him and not meeting his eye.

He felt like a dick for hurting her feelings. He needed to watch his mouth more, but years working on construction sites had whittled down his ability for nuance and finesse. Funnily enough, those things weren’t too effective with tradies.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

“Yeah, you did.” She swallowed. “And that’s fine, it’s why I came to you. I know you’ll give it to me straight.”

Too straight, perhaps.

Wasn’t that what his ex-girlfriend had said to him? That his honesty was like being beaten over the head with a club? That he had a tendency to bulldoze people, even when he was trying to help? Shit. He didn’t want to do that to Zoey.

“Why don’t we head inside for a bit and I can run you through some rough costs for everything on the list, and then you can decide whether the investment is within your budget,” he suggested.

“Thank you.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I would appreciate that.”

She turned and headed towards the house, leaving him to watch the way her pretty mermaid hair tumbled down her back and the enticing way her hips swung with each step she took. Was he projecting? Or was he trying so hard to learn from the mistakes his family had made that he was piling his baggage onto her shoulders?

He’d seen the disaster brewing with his sister a mile off—the bad decisions she was making, the way she tended to act before thinking, the way she was able to convince their parents to give her anything because they loved her passion and zest for life. He didn’t want Zoey to suffer the same consequences his sister had. He didn’t want her to ruin her life the way his sister had.

She’s not your person to protect.

But it didn’t seem to matter how many times he said that to himself, the urge was still there.

5

An hour later Zoey’s head was spinning like a top. She and Mack were sitting at her kitchen table, while he went through the list of things she need to fix in order to get the Westfalia up to scratch. It was… a lot.

But a long list wasn’t going to stop her. People around here might still see her as the rebellious teenage girl with the rainbow hair, Doc Martens, and nose ring who was always skipping school or getting sent to the principal’s office. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. Okay, sure, she still had the colourful hair that changed whenever a whim took hold of her and yeah, she still loved adding to her collection of Docs. But she’d lost the nose ring along with most of the pent-up anger that had driven her to rebel.

In fact, the best thing she’d ever done in her life was making peace with her childhood not being perfect. She’d also made peace with the fact that her mother wasn’t interested in a relationship with her and that getting along with her father was going to take some work.

That was all fine.

Because Zoey knew the power of focusing on now. On rising above criticism and learning to forgive and being the best you that you could be. That’s how she lived her life—focusing on the positive.

“How’s your head feeling?” Mack asked with a hint of a smile on his lips.

He was standing in her kitchen, putting the coffee cups in the sink and looking like the snack he was. Yesterday he’d had that sexy, dirty look going on with stubble and a clingy T-shirt and grimy work boots. Zoey was a fan of that look. Chef’s kiss, A+ and gold stars all ’round. Yet she was equally a fan of Mack’s cleaned-up look, too—worn-in jeans, clean-shaven jaw, citrus shampoo scent mixed with a hint of woodsy deliciousness.

“Full,” she admitted. “But I’m ready for the challenge. I know you think I jump headfirst into everything without any planning, but I really have thought this through.”

Even Gwen thought she’d jumped in headfirst—but the truth was, Zoey had been craving a change for some time. She’d squirrelled away some savings and when she and Gwen had gone to the pub, the idea of the dessert food truck had bubbled up in their conversation. Zoey knew immediately it was the opportunity she’d been looking for.

“Good,” Mack replied. “Because you’re going to need it.”

She watched as he washed the coffee cups with the same level of care and attention he gave to all things. He was like the antithesis of the bad boy—he cared about his family, worked hard, was an upstanding citizen, always took the safe route.

Why did she find that so attractive?

Maybe it was something to do with the fact that she could see how his care and meticulous attention to detail would translate very well into the bedroom. Never before had she been jealous of a cup, but as she watched him dry one with a tea towel, his strong hands getting into every little corner and crevice, that’s exactly what she was.

She wanted to be handled by him.

“What?” he asked, his gaze sliding over to her as though he sensed her scrutiny.

“Have you ever made a mistake in your life, Mack? I’ve always wondered that.” She leaned against the counter next to him.

“Have I ever made a mistake?” He laughed and the sound was deep and rumbly and wonderful. “Do you mean am I actually human and not a robot?”

“I have heard you say bleep bloop bleep when you think no one is listening,” she teased.

He turned so they were facing one another. The house was still and quiet, and outside the trees shuddered in the ocean breeze. Somewhere, a kookaburra cackled. There was a thick intimacy in the air and she looked up at Mack, cataloguing the features she knew well enough to paint from memory. Full lashes, strong nose, reluctant smile, and those intense brown eyes.

“For the record,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I am not perfect. Far, far from it.”

“Liar. I bet you fold your underwear and everything.”

“Zo, you have me on a pedestal and I don’t deserve to be there. Truly.”

Was that true? Did she have him on a pedestal? It was hard not to when she’d always looked up to him. Admired him.

There was a period of time, when Zoey was seventeen, that Sean had taken off to deal with his own demons, and Mack had been there for her. He’d checked on her every few days, came to make sure the fridge was stocked, and changed her lightbulbs when they blew. He’d been the one to turn up on her birthday with a cake when she had felt utterly and hopelessly alone. There’d been times when it felt like he was the only person in the world who cared about her.

But she also wanted to shake that image out of his head. She wasn’t a girl who needed a protector anymore. She wasn’t someone who needed saving. She’d worked hard to save herself.

“Well you have me in a box and I don’t deserve to be there.”

He blinked. “I don’t have you in a box.”

“Yes, you do.” She nodded. “You think I’m a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Not true.”

“You think I’m immature and impulsive. You think because of the way I act and the things I want that I’m setting myself up for failure.”

“What do you want?”

The question felt like he’d pulled the pin on a grenade. Zoey sucked in a breath and counted out the seconds. One, two, three…

But her answer remained the same.

You.

She leaned into him, her hand coming to his chest. Her fingertips delighted in the contrast between the solid wall of muscle beneath the touchable cotton of his T-shirt. Like everything about him, it was a perfect dichotomy of hard and soft. Because Mack encompassed both elements—at times he was rigid and overbearing and yes, even pigheaded. But under that was a deep well of goodness that he showered on those he loved.

You think he loves you? Responsibility and love are not the same thing.

But as he closed his hand over hers, warmth in his touch and fire in his whisky eyes, Zoey released her doubts into the world. She would prove to him, like she would prove to everyone else in Patterson’s Bluff, that she was a strong, smart woman capable of making good decisions.

And right now, good decisions involved kissing Mack.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she wound her free arm around his neck and pressed her body to his. “This is what I want.”

“Zoey…” His breath was ragged as the cliff-faces that lined their town.

She brought her other hand around his neck and left him no choice but to respond. Would he push her away or pull her closer?

His hands skimmed along her hips, his thumbs smoothing up and over the waistband of her skirt to brush against her bare skin. Her heart thundered in her chest. For so many years she’d dreamed about this moment—fantasised about it, sketching into the darkness as she lay awake at night.

“You asked what I wanted,” she whispered. “And it’s this. It’s always been this.”

His eyes were dark and smoky, and he lowered his head so that his lips hovered inches from hers. She felt his hands tighten at her hips, felt the tension rolling off him in waves. He wanted her too. For the first time ever, she knew she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to happen.

The slamming of a car door outside was like someone firing off a rifle into the quiet air. Mack jumped, startled, and snatched his hands away from her as if he’d been burned.

No, no, no!

The moment was shattered. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoey saw Sean striding up the driveway. Mack turned away from her, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I should get going,” he said.

She nodded, biting down on her lip to keep a protest inside. “Sure.”

Mack headed outside and she watched him and Sean chatting and laughing next to the ugly green food truck. It was like the almost-kiss never happened.

But if Mr. Too Sensible For His Own Good thought she wasn’t going to bring this up the next time she had the chance, then he was sorely mistaken.

6

One week later…

Mack did his best to avoid Zoey after their almost-kiss. Well, he avoided her physically. He didn’t, however, manage to avoid her in his head. That moment played on loop night after night—details etched into his brain as though carved into stone, never to be erased. He lost himself in the memory of her sweet floral scent and the silkiness of her skin and the warm pressure of her body against his, reaching for himself under the cloak of darkness in a desperate attempt to absolve his frustration.

But the sad fact of it was, his own hand was a poor match for a woman’s touch. For her touch.

Still, he was doing what he did best—taking the safe route. He sent her calls to voicemail and responded to her texts with short responses, claiming he was swamped with work. Did he feel bad about it? Sure. But was it the right thing for his sanity? Absolutely. He figured Zoey would get the hint, eventually. If she needed his help with the food truck, then he would be there. But for everything else… no can do.

The last thing he needed in his life was to be tempted by someone who had the power to upset the careful balance he prided himself on maintaining.

But it appeared Zoey had other plans.

He saw the dust being kicked up by the motorcycle before he heard the rumble of the engine, thanks to the jackhammer going off and the sound-deadening earmuffs clipped to his hard hat. It wasn’t the cloud that clued him in to the identity of his unwanted visitor, however. It was the ripple of awareness that ran through the construction crew, distracting the men from their work as they watched a woman ride up to the front of the site.

Shit.

Zoey was not going to take a hint, like he’d hoped. A few workers wandered to the front of the site—a small complex of units aimed at creating affordable housing for first home buyers—and watched the woman dismount from her bike. At least Zoey had a pair of jeans on today, because those bare legs could very well be his undoing.

He took his hard hat and earmuffs off in time to hear a wolf whistle cutting through the air. Seeing red, he stalked across the site ready to grab the guy who’d dared whistle. Nick had strong feelings about his men not doing that kind of disrespectful shit, but some of the old dogs were struggling to learn that particular trick.

“Hey Mack.” Zoey had her helmet tucked under one arm, and she smiled slyly at him as he approached.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to see that stuffy bloke,” scoffed one of the workers, who was grimy from a windy morning working the excavator. “Come on now. A pretty lady like you needs a bit more excitement than that.”

“And you’re the one to show it to her, are you Greg? How’s the missus feel about that?” Mack shot the guy a hard look and it got the intended result. Greg muttered something under his breath and headed back to work, the other guys trailing behind him, equally pissed off that their fun had been spoiled.

“You show ’em who’s boss,” Zoey said, an amused smirk hovering at the edge of her lips. She’d shrugged out of her leather jacket and slung it over one arm, leaving her under-layer—a black sleeveless top so tight it looked spray-painted on—to capture his attention. “I do like the big bad wolf side of you, Mack.”

“What are you doing here?” He shook his head, drawing a steadying breath. “How did you even know what site I was working on today?”

“I called the office and spoke with Nick.” She smiled sweetly. “Said I wanted to deliver you some lunch.”

“You know that’s going to get tongues wagging.”

“Is it?” She cocked her head in feigned innocence.

“What’s your game, Zoey? It feels a lot like you’re trying to force my hand at something, but I don’t know why.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She tucked a strand of mermaid-coloured hair behind her ear as she reached into the compartment on her bike and produced a container which appeared to contain some sandwiches, fresh fruit and mini muffins. “And I really did want to bring you lunch.”

He sighed. Zoey was sweet, but he knew there was no such thing as a free lunch. Literally or figuratively. She wanted something from him, and his greatest concern was that she wanted something he’d be very happy to give.

“Let’s walk down to the park,” he said. “One, it’s dusty here and two, I don’t want the guys gawking at us.”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” She said it in a teasing manner, but he caught the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

“No. But I’m worried that one of those vultures will come in and steal my food.”

She laughed and they headed away from the construction site, down the quiet tree-lined street. This area of Patterson’s Bluff wasn’t very built up and the “park” he’d mentioned was little more than a patch of bush leading through to the ocean. There was a railing to sit on, and endless blue water to admire. The breeze kicked up the lengths of Zoey’s hair and he tried not to think about how beautiful she was.

When they settled, she opened the box and handed him a neatly wrapped sandwich. Ham, cheese and tomato—his favourite.

“I know you’re attempting to get your way by feeding me,” he said, taking a bite.

“Don’t they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” she said, stifling a laugh as she unwrapped one for herself. “I felt like we should… talk. About what happened, I mean.”

“Disagree.” He took another bite.

“Why?”

How could he tell her the truth without putting any ideas in her head? “Because it’s bad news.”

She let out a huff. “I’m sick of you looking at me like I’m a kid, Mack. I’m twenty-five. I’m not that scared little girl you used to check on anymore.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Was she really so blind? “You don’t think I’m fully aware of much you are not a kid anymore?”

She sucked in a breath. “Then why—”

“We’re not compatible.” He chanced a look over at her. She was staring out at the ocean, a crease between her brows and her silvery blue eyes fixed on something in the distance. “Trust me, it’s nothing to do with me thinking you’re a kid or anything like that. We want different things, that’s all.”

“You don’t know what I want,” she replied stubbornly.

Yes, he did. Because when he’d asked her that question, she’d shown him what she wanted. The way she’d pressed her body against his, holding him and looking up at him in a way that would haunt him for the rest of his days… that’s what she wanted.

And part of him wanted it, too. But that didn’t mean it was the right path for either one of them.

“You want a fun-time guy who’ll do crazy, spontaneous stuff with you like going sky-diving on a whim. The kind of guy who doesn’t worry about things like saving for the future and five-year plans and other boring crap like that.”

“You’re wrong. I like those things about you.”

“Why?”

Mack wasn’t even sure he liked those things about himself, in truth. But it wasn’t worth fighting against it. Humanity needed both types of folks—the wild ones and the steady ones. The wild ones created art and made people smile and added colour to things, and the steady ones made sure there was safety and security and order. It was all about balance. His desire not to be with a woman like Zoey had nothing to do with him being unable to see her value. Nothing at all.

It was more that he feared they were too far apart on the wild-to-steady spectrum.

“You… make me feel grounded,” she said.

“I’ll make you feel six feet under in the long run,” he quipped.

She frowned. “You really think we’re that incompatible?”

“I do.” He toyed with whether or not to add further to his statement, but he felt the hurt simmering around her. “It’s…”

Shit.

He raked a hand through his hair and tried to think of the best way to phrase it. “It’s got nothing to do with a lack of attraction, okay? I find you very attractive, but you know I’m not the dating around type. I want to have a family and I would never ruin our relationship by sleeping with you purely based on the physical aspect.”

There, that was the truth of it out in the open.

“I honestly don’t know if you just complimented me or insulted me.” She wrinkled her nose and took another bite of her lunch. “You basically said I’m hot but not family material.”

“That’s not what I said.”

She lifted one shoulder into a shrug. “Well, I think you’re wrong. We’re compatible because we’re different. We balance each other out.”

He laughed. The girl was certainly selling it—but every time he even thought about indulging, an image of his parents popped into his head. After he figured out all the money they’d invested in his sister’s business was gone, he’d found his mother sitting on her kitchen floor, sobbing. He’d never seen her so broken like that. So… helpless.

He’d dug way into his own savings to make sure they didn’t lose the house. So how could he then date a woman who ate risk for breakfast? Who bought a broken-down hunk of scrap on a hope and a prayer? Who could never seem to find the line between dipping a toe in and flying headfirst off a cliff into the things she wanted to do?

“You’ll get bored of me,” he countered. His ex certainly had—she’d said all his plans and precautions and fallbacks were stifling.

You don’t know how to live in the moment, she’d said as she left. You wouldn’t even know what happiness looked like if it slapped you in the face because you’re too focused on what could go wrong.

As angry as he’d been, he didn’t exactly blame her for saying those things. He was focused on what could go wrong. He was busy making plans for the future. And what was the big fuss about the present moment anyway? If you only ever worried about that, you’d end up walking straight into a hole in the ground.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Mack. If boredom was an issue, then I wouldn’t be here now, would I?” Zoey’s eyes sparkled with sincerity. He loved the almost colourless nature of them. It reminded him of the early part of the morning after dawn broke, when the world was quiet and peaceful.

“And what if we dated and then broke up, huh?” He shook his head. “That would put your brother in a position to choose, and if he didn’t choose you then I’d be pissed at him. I’d lose you both.”

“Typical Mack, always jumping to the worst-case scenario.” She rolled her eyes.

“Someone has to think about those things.”

She hopped down from the railing and dusted her hands down her thighs. “Well, you think about the worst-case scenario and I’ll do my best to show you why the best-case scenario is worth the risk.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“By the way, Sean will be calling you later to ask for a hand. We’re having a working bee to get the food truck cleaned up.” She tossed him a look over her shoulder that said she thought she had the upper hand. “You’ll help us, right?”

Damn her. She knew he could never refuse a friend in need. “Sure.”

“See you then.”

He watched as she left him sitting on the railing, her long hair swishing above her backside with each spring-filled step. The woman had something up her sleeve, he knew it.

7

Zoey had everything planned. Today was going to serve a couple of purposes, because every working woman knew the power of multitasking. One, she was gathering friends to help her get the food truck sparkling clean. Two, Gwen was bringing along a test batch of some of their possible menu items to reward everyone and also get feedback. Three, Zoey was going to show Mack exactly what he was missing.

Incompatible, her arse!

Mack was simply too tangled up in his own risk aversion to see how great they could be together. Frankly, sitting around and waiting for him to come to that conclusion had gotten her nowhere. She needed to take the approach with him that she took with every other aspect of her life—jumping in with both feet.

And yes, she knew he wanted to settle down and have a family. It had been the major bugbear between him and his ex, according to her brother. But the truth of it was… Zoey also wanted those things. Running a successful business wasn’t her only goal in life. She wanted to be a mum and a wife, too.

She wanted to have it all.

And while she might not have come from the best family situation, she had tried to find the silver lining. A bad upbringing meant she knew what things to avoid. She’d never neglect her children’s needs like her mother did. She’d never leave her family to struggle alone like her father did. And she’d never avoid communicating with her partner the way both her parents had.

Something good could be found in even the darkest of situations.

By eleven a.m., her wonderful helpers had arrived. Sean was already out the front, dismantling anything that would come loose from the inside of the vehicle so it could be cleaned on the lawn, and Gwen had set up a trestle table and an Esky for drinks and snacks.

“What did you bring?” Zoey asked, rubbing her hands together.

“So many things.” Gwen’s eyes sparkled with excitement. The woman lived to feed people. “I’ve got a batch of ANZAC biscuits, a Cherry Ripe slice, vanilla cake balls and a salted macadamia tart.”

Zoey’s mouth popped open as Gwen arranged all the items on the table, carefully covering them with fly nets. “You have outdone yourself.”

“Make sure people grab a bite before we get started, okay? It’s going to be a hot one.” Gwen’s eyes skated over Zoey’s outfit. “Which I can see you’ve dressed for.”

She grinned. Okay, so maybe wearing her tiniest pair of denim shorts and a strappy white bikini top was a little on the nose, but if that didn’t break Mack she had no idea what would.

“I don’t want to ruin any of my nice tops cleaning out the green beast,” Zoey replied with a cheeky shrug.

“Sure.” Gwen laughed, not buying the story one bit. “Although it’s not a bad idea. I have my bathers on under this because I was going to head to the beach after. I may follow your lead.”

“Don’t forget to put some sunscreen on. I put one of those big pump bottles by the front door.” As much as Zoey liked getting a tan, all Aussies knew the importance of sun protection because it was way too easy to go from zero to lobster before you knew what was happening.

“Good reminder.” Gwen ditched her T-shirt and showed off the adorable palm tree printed one-piece underneath. She too wore denim shorts and a pair of brightly coloured Havaiana thongs on her feet. “Let’s do this thing!”

Zoey’s father’s work van and Mack’s ute pulled up at the same time and they both got out and awkwardly shook hands. Zoey bit down on her lip. She knew what Mack thought of him—that he was a deadbeat dad—but he really had been trying to make amends. In fact, he’d spent a whole three days away from his mechanic business to work on the Westfalia, and now it was running! Her father might not have won any World’s Greatest Dad awards when she was growing up, but she meant what she said about second chances. Everybody deserved them.

At that moment, another car pulled up on the other side of the road, and Gwen’s older brothers piled out to join them. It warmed Zoey’s heart to see people pulling together to help her and Gwen, even if they might have reservations about the idea. That was Patterson’s Bluff in a nutshell—folks helped one another. They cared about one another.

“Hey guys!” Zoey waved and went over to greet the group gathering in the driveway. She caught Mack’s eyes narrowing at her and in her peripheral vision, Gwen clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle.

Oh yeah. Today was going to be fun.

Mack spent the entire afternoon trying his hardest to ignore Zoey and that ridiculous scrap of fabric she called a bikini. In truth, people wandering around in swimwear was not unusual in a town like Patterson’s Bluff. They lived by the credo of “always be ready for the beach” and readily embraced the surf-to-street way of life.

But that’s not why Zoey was wearing a bikini.

She was doing it to taunt him for walking away after their almost-kiss. For saying they were incompatible. For years of putting her in a box she didn’t want to be in. Oh, he knew that she’d crushed on him for years—because she was as subtle as a ton of bricks—and it had taken every ounce of willpower not to give in.

Just like it was taking every ounce of willpower right now…

He crouched by one of the food truck’s tires, cleaning the rims with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water. The sun beat down relentlessly on his back and he dragged his free hand across his forehead. At the front of the truck, Zoey was cleaning the headlights. The angle gave him a perfect view of her. Her blue, purple and green hair fell over her shoulders and there was plenty of opportunity to admire her surfing-fit body. But it was the hint of smugness in her smirk as she glanced up at him—catching him staring again—that got under his skin.

Didn’t she know he was trying to save them both a lot of heartache?

He threw his sponge into the bucket of water, sending suds over the edge, and then stood and walked over to her.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said under his breath. The group had started dissipating—Zoey’s father had helped for a few hours but had to leave for an appointment, and Sean had left for work. Gwen was packing up the leftover food and drinks, and her brothers were inside the van fitting the refrigerator back in after the whole area had been scrubbed.

“Cleaning?” Zoey asked innocently. She stood and Mack kept his eyes straight ahead.

“I’m not an idiot,” he growled.

He was standing close to her so nobody would overhear their conversation, but that in itself might have been a misstep. She smelled like coconut and sunscreen and something vanilla-sweet, and pink gloss highlighted her lips. His throat tightened and every muscle in his body coiled in preparation, but for what he had no idea.

For nothing, because this isn’t going anywhere.

“It sounds like you have something on your mind, Mack,” she said, smiling up at him. A pair of sunglasses hid her eyes, but he could read the rest of her face—she was having fun with this.

“I don’t appreciate you pushing my buttons for sport.”

“If you actually listened to me, I wouldn’t need to push your buttons at all.”

Her words were like burrs under his skin. “You have my attention. It’s impossible for you not to have my attention because you’re as loud as a fucking police siren.”

“Good.” She squared her shoulders. The last thing anyone could ever accuse Zoey of was being a shrinking violet—the woman was loud and proud and never shied away from something she wanted. He respected her for that, usually. But right now, it was a giant pain in his arse.

“Why are you taunting me?”

“I wanted to show you what you’re missing,” she replied. “Because the truth of it is… I want you, and I’m sick of being ignored because of your stupid rules.”

“You think all rules are stupid.”

“I do. But yours are especially stupid,” she replied without missing a beat.

In spite of his frustration, Mack laughed. That was something he did a lot around Zoey—he laughed, and he smiled, and he enjoyed himself. She had the kind of buoyancy and effervescence that he only saw in others and never in himself.

“Rules protect people.”

“Your rules don’t protect people, Mack. They protect you.”

He blinked. That’s what she thought? That he only cared about safety and security for himself? “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Because I know how you felt when we almost kissed—it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t to avoid hurting my feelings. You wanted it.” Her face was tilted up to his, and he wished he could see her eyes. Or maybe he wished for the opposite, because to see all that passion burning up…

“Of course I wanted it,” he said under his breath, hoping that the others couldn’t hear them sparring. “I wanted it more than anything. But that doesn’t mean I should give in to you.”

“But it would feel so good.”

The softly spoken words wrapped around him, tightening his muscles and stirring his desires. Lust gripped him in a chokehold. For a moment, he couldn’t move, rooted to the spot with the desperate need to kiss her. To finish what they’d started.

He fought against it—trying to tell himself not to fall for her attempts to unsettle him. But his senses were overwhelmed. Her scent, her heat, the testing pressure of her hand coming up to his chest… he wanted more. He wanted everything.

“Stay,” she whispered. “When the others go, stay with me.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the last vestiges of his control unravelling like frayed rope. When Zoey wanted something, she threw everything she had at getting it. Would he regret it all tomorrow? Would she? Would it ruin things?

Fear had held him at bay for so long, but her question needled at him. Who was he protecting? Was he less selfless than he thought, only worrying about his own heart?

“I’m not asking for forever, Mack. Just tonight.”

Just tonight.

No strings. No commitments. No consequences.

He nodded, already wondering if he’d made a terrible mistake.

“Tonight,” he repeated with a nod.

8

It took another hour to put the inside of the food truck back together and tidy everything up. The entire time, Zoey’s mind swirled. Mack had agreed to one night and she could scarcely believe it. She wanted more from him, of course—more than one night, more than casual. But she also knew that Mack never jumped into anything without first doing his research.

Tonight be would that—an opportunity for him to see that they were compatible, inside the bedroom and out.

After Gwen and her brothers headed home, she and Mack went back to his place. The last thing she wanted was Sean interrupting them again when he came home from work, and frankly she didn’t want to rush things.

She had not waited seventeen years for a quickie.

The drive was torture, with Mack’s eyes staring straight ahead and her being too afraid to open her mouth in case he backed out. But within ten minutes they were walking through his front door and Zoey’s hands were almost shaking with anticipation. This was it.

It was really happening.

As Mack bent over to take off his boots, she couldn’t help but stare. She’d imagined this so many times, but something told her fantasy would never compare to reality. His T-shirt clung in all the right places—sticking to every muscle in his work-honed body, from the rounded “fix any problem” biceps to his broad shoulders and trim waist. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was like sandpaper.

Sweating looked good on him. Everything looked good on him.

“You’re staring.” He looked up as he yanked one boot off and then the other.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. “I am.”

“Getting your fill?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Uh-huh.”

He chuckled and the sound was low and rough and wonderful. “Be careful what you wish for, Zoey. You wanted this, so there’s no being shy now.”

Crossing the barrier of agreeing to sleep together was clearly a big deal for him. It seemed to have unleashed something in him—there was no hesitation. No doubt. When he made a decision, he owned it.

He ripped his T-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor, his eyes capturing hers in silent challenge. A cocky grin tugged at the edges of his lips. The tables had turned.

“I’ve shown you mine,” he said, walking towards her. “Now you show me yours.”

Flushing, Zoey suddenly felt like a first timer, but in the best way possible. It was almost as if the chance of being with Mack had erased every memory in her head and she was getting to experience the world anew.

She slipped off her Havaianas and nudged them to one side as she divested herself of the T-shirt she’d thrown over her bikini top for the ride over. When her hands fell to the denim shorts slung low on her hips, she noticed the growing outline of him behind his shorts. The sight almost took her breath away. Her whole body hummed, like her every cell was a tuning fork and he was the reason for it all.

“Wait.” His voice was hoarse as he closed the gap between them.

Before she had the chance to open her mouth, he pulled her close and brushed his lips over hers, the kiss so soft and sweet it had no more weight than a feather. His thumb smoothed over her jaw and she melted into him, winding her arms around his neck and letting her head tilt back.

“That’s good,” he murmured against her lips.

This time he kissed her deeper, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth as his hands slipped over the curve of her backside, fitting her hard against him. She gasped into his kiss. He tasted warm and smooth, like a fine wine, and his chin was rough with stubble. When he nuzzled the crook of her neck, it was like being showered in sparks. Everywhere, he was hard… everywhere. He walked her back until she hit the wall of the living room, and pinned her there.

“Yes.” The word hissed from her lips.

“You knew exactly how much you were teasing me in this tiny thing.” He traced a fingertip along the strap of her bikini top and then palmed her through the thin material. “You’re perfection, Zoey.”

Physically. He may find her attractive enough to be here now, but it was who she was that caused issues. She was too wild, too spontaneous, too… much.

We’re not thinking about this now.

She was going to enjoy the moment. No doubts. No fears. No worrying about tomorrow. If there was anyone who knew how to live in the moment, it was Zoey.

She reached behind herself and tugged on the string holding her bikini top together until it gave way, falling to the floor. Darkness grew like storm clouds in Mack’s eyes and his stubble made delicious sparks inside her as he peppered her with kisses. The friction was heaven against her hot skin, and her nipples ached. Everywhere ached—her sex, her breasts, the pit of her stomach…

His mouth closed around the peak of her breast and she gasped. He rocked against her, the seam of his fly rubbing at her most sensitive part while his tongue and teeth and lips stoked the fire burning inside her. She was bright and hot and wanting. When the heel of his palm slipped between her legs, mercifully giving her pressure right where she wanted it, she almost wept with relief.

“Fuck, Zoey.” He kissed up the side of her neck as he slipped his hand inside her shorts. “The noises you make.”

He ground the heel of his palm against her sex and she rocked, rocked, rocked against him. When his finger pressed against her entrance, slipping inside, she splintered. Her orgasm was swift and strong, and she buried her face in his neck, screwing her eyes shut, blotting out the world. She only wanted to feel. Only wanted him. Nothing else.

When she floated back down to earth, Mack lowered himself to a crouching position and placed a kiss at her navel, working her shorts over her hips. Then her bikini bottoms followed, and she was naked. Exposed.

And yet she felt safer than ever.

“You have to get undressed too,” she said, as she soaked him all in. “I want to see every part of you.”

His belt buckle clanked as he yanked it open and the sound of his zipper lowering was like a knife through the thick air. Everything felt dialled up to eleven, all of her senses humming and vibrating. Her knees almost gave way as he shoved his shorts over his hips, because he was even more glorious naked.

It wasn’t only his body. It was the darkness in his warm brown eyes that she was most attracted to—the detailed, driven, intense nature of him. Proof she knew there was a passion, even if others chose not to see it.

Scooping her up, he strode through the house and into his bedroom, where he laid her on the bed. Soft covers cradled her. She’d been in this room before, and she’d always imagined. Always hoped.

He reached for the top drawer of his nightstand, hunting for a condom. The hard jut of his cock left her mouth dry, because the way he handled himself… goodness. So confident, so sure. He rolled the rubber down his length. Awareness raced through her veins as the bed shifted under his weight when he crawled forward, muscles tensed and eyes like wildfire.

“I have wanted this, Zoey,” he growled. “I have wanted this for so bloody long. Too long.”

“Really?” The word was a mere whisper. “I thought you only ever saw me as a responsibility.”

He swore under his breath. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been fighting it.”

The revelation made her heart swell. All the times she thought he’d overlooked her, he was fighting it? Fighting his desire for her?

She reached out, pulling him towards her with an instinctive need to have him close. To be comforted and consumed by him. Her body sank further into the mattress as he came down on top of her, and muscular thighs parted her softer ones.

“Mack,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted you forever, too. From the moment I first saw you.”

As he pushed inside, her body gave in to him, softening and yielding and accepting. The way he held her like she mattered… it made her heart so very full. But she didn’t have long to dwell in that feeling, however, because as he began to move inside her, rocking back and forth, she clung to him. The sensation was intense, rhythmic. So good she lost her breath.

She felt… cherished. Seen.

Cupping his jaw with one hand, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him with everything she had. With everything she felt for him. Nothing else mattered in this moment. Not their differences. Not even their similarities. There was no past, no future. Only the glorious, fiery present.

“Mack, I’m close.”

He drew her legs behind him and she locked her ankles together against his lower back. The change in angle made him plunge deeper, harder. Each stroke brought her closer to bliss. To release.

Her head lolled back against the pillow. “I’m so close. I can’t…”

“Shhhh.” He covered his mouth with hers. “Just feel.”

His fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her deeply, like it meant something. Like it meant everything. Then the feeling burst like a bubble on a needle, and she was lost to the rolling waves of pleasure. A moment later, he followed her over the edge.

Clamping her eyes shut, Zoey held him, wishing with everything she had that this wouldn’t be the end.

9

Mack lay awake that night, staring into the darkness. Outside a ripe moon reflected against the gently rippling waves below and light spilled in through his bedroom window, lying in ribbons across his bed. He could make out the outline of Zoey’s body tucked into his side. Her hair spilled across his chest and her soft even breathing made warm air puff across his skin.

He felt a soul-deep contentment and utter completeness that he’d never experienced before.

Not with his ex, a woman he’d thought he may marry one day. Not with his home, that he’d built from scratch. Not with anything or anyone…

Except her.

He stroked her hair—the colours muted by the darkness—away from her face. She huffed in her sleep, shifting against him. After they lost themselves in one another the first time, they’d showered and started all over again. Then they watched the sun set, grazing on fruit and cheese and drinking a bottle of wine that he’d stashed away for a special occasion. After that, they went to bed full and happy and reaching for one another under the covers.

It must be midnight by now. Maybe later.

“Mack?” Zoey’s voice was gravelly and it suited her well.

“I’m here.”

“You’re wide awake.” She snuggled against him. “Your brain is so loud it woke me up.”

He laughed. “You know me, always thinking.”

“Too much.” Her hand trailed over him, fingertips dancing across the flat of his nipple and down the ridges in his stomach. “Sometimes it’s better to do.”

This was where they would always differ. Because Mack did everything with intention and planning. It was the very reason he was financially secure enough to bail his parents out. It was also the reason he was good at his job, getting promoted into being the head of all the construction safety work at South Coast Construction.

“You disagree,” Zoey said, as if she could read his mind.

“I do. I’ve seen what acting before you think can do to a family.” The incident with his sister had been kept quiet—not even Sean knew about it. His parents were so ashamed of having to lean on their son for financial support, that they’d made him promise not to tell.

But maybe Zoey needed to understand what could happen if you took “doing” too far.

She propped herself up on one arm. Moonlight illuminated her face, making her eyes look like silver stars, but a frown marred the smooth skin of her forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“You promise this stays between us?”

She pressed the flat of her palm to his chest, as though wanting to infuse him with her care. “Of course, Mack. You can trust me.”

“Melody didn’t go to Queensland because she got a job.” It hurt to even say that out loud, because he and his sister had been close growing up. Now they’d barely spoken in over two years. “She ran away.”

“What?” Zoey shook her head, blinking. “But that whole thing about her going to work at a resort in Noosa…”

“A made-up story.”

“But she posted a picture of herself there and…” Zoey’s shoulders slumped. “We spoke not long after she left. She told me how great it was.”

“She was probably trying to save face.” He ran his hand down her arm in a soothing manner. “I don’t think she wanted to deceive you, but you know what Melody is like. Making people think her life is perfect is what gets her into trouble.”

“What happened?”

“She decided to go into business with someone she met at a fashion show in Melbourne. They were going to produce surf-inspired clothing and sell it online, as well as trying to get it into stores along the coast. She was so excited that she skipped over doing her due diligence on her business partner.” He raked a hand through his hair, fury bubbling up inside him. “They needed money for the initial production run and the clothing manufacturer had a big minimum order for the unit pricing they needed. Otherwise the idea wouldn’t have been profitable. Mel asked for a loan from the bank, but they refused.”

“Oh no.” Zoey’s face crumbled as if she could tell exactly where the story was going.

“So, she asked Mum and Dad to help. As you know, they’re not the richest folks but they wanted to support her. They drew down a line of credit on the house.”

Zoey covered her face with her hands.

“Then Mel handed all that money over to her ‘business partner’ so they could ink the contract with the manufacturer. Only the woman stopped taking her calls and answering her emails. Mel went to the house where she supposedly lived and it was empty.”

“Shit.”

“It turned out everything about this woman was fake—her name, her address, her credentials. All of it.” Even now, he still couldn’t believe his sister had fallen for it. But Melody got swept up in the excitement of things, she always had. This time, unfortunately, it wasn’t only her bank account that bore the brunt of it—she’d ruined their parents, too. “The money was gone.”

“They never found the woman?”

“Police said they’d heard of similar things happening, but apparently she was a pro. There was no trail at all. They believed it wasn’t the first time she’d pulled this scam and that she’d likely left the country.”

“Poor Melody.” Zoey shook her head.

“Poor Melody?” Mack baulked. “Don’t you mean poor Mum and Dad? Their daughter bled them dry, almost ruined their retirement, and then they had to come to me to bail them out. Technically I now ‘own’ part of their house. What about them? Her naivety could have cost them everything.”

The air shifted in the room. What had been a warm, relaxed atmosphere a second ago was now charged with tension. “You’re seriously telling me you blame your sister for getting scammed?”

“Of course I do. Anybody with a modicum of sense in their head would have smelled this a mile off. All Melody had to do was look into her business partner. Heck, all she had to do was not hand the money over to a complete fucking stranger on a promise that wasn’t even in writing.”

“Come on, Mack. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

He should have known that Zoey would see his sister’s side of things more than his. She’d looked up to Melody, who was two years her senior, when they were younger, following her around like a colourful little duckling, hanging on to every word she said.

“You don’t need hindsight if you plan ahead,” he said. “Starting a business isn’t something to do on a whim, especially not when you’re dragging other people into it.”

Zoey’s mouth popped open. “Is this why you were so freaked out about me buying the food truck? Because you think I’m going to be like your sister? That I’m going to screw Gwen over?”

He didn’t say a word. Because that had been his fear. Not only that Zoey would lead Gwen into a bad situation with her contagious enthusiasm, but that she’d ruin herself, too. That she’d end up running away like his sister had, because the thought of never seeing Zoey again…

Holy shit.

That was why he was so worried. Not because of the financial implications, but because if it all went wrong and Zoey ran away with her tail between her legs, he might not ever see her again.

“Do you really have so little faith in me?” Zoey’s voice wavered. The moonlight shifted through trees shuddering in the night breeze, and he caught a glitter in her eyes. Tears or anger, he wasn’t sure which.

“It’s not that.” He shook his head, trying to make sense of this unwanted and most inconvenient revelation.

“I think it is.” She pulled away from him. “You’ve seen me stumble so many times that you believe I’m only capable of stumbling.”

“That is not true.” He reached for her, but she pushed off the bed.

She stood naked in the moonlight, mermaid hair tumbling over her shoulders and a look of utter betrayal in her eyes.

Isn’t this what you wanted? For her to see how you’d never be right together.

Only now that it was happening, it felt like a burn all through his body. It scorched him from the inside out, charring his heart and his lungs. And it hurt like nothing else.

“You’re always going to see me as destined to fail.” A tear dropped onto her cheek and she whisked it away. Then she turned and walked out of his bedroom.

“Zoey, stop.” He followed, finding her pulling her bikini bottoms back on. “Don’t be rash.”

Ugh, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Her jaw clenched and she yanked her T-shirt over her bare breasts. “This was clearly a mistake. I thought that if you could see how good we were together you might…”

“Might what?”

Her lip quivered, but she stayed strong, locking her shoulders in place as she stared him straight in the eye, strong as a queen. “That you might be able to pull your head out of your arse long enough to see how much I love you.”

The words froze him in his tracks.

Sure, he knew that Zoey had crushed on him since she was a gangly, freckle-faced teenager. Sure, he knew that she was attracted to him as an adult. But love? Actual long-lasting forever love?

She stepped into her jean shorts and pulled them up over her hips, not meeting his eye as she tugged the zipper up and stuffed her feet into her Havaianas. Then she bent over to scoop up the top part of her bikini and stuffed it into the back pocket of her shorts.

“Mack, you’re a smart guy but sometimes you’re really dumb.” She shook her head and walked across the room, right to the front door, and left without a backward glance.

Zoey loved him.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Tonight was meant to be a release of energy, a calculated lapse in his responsibility. Not love. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he swore under his breath, remembering that he’d driven Zoey here. He couldn’t let her walk home on her own.

But by the time he made it outside she was gone.

MACK: Don’t walk home alone, please. Let me drive you.

ZOEY: I’ve already texted Gwen. I’m crashing at her place.

Gwen lived on the next street over, and Mack sighed in relief. But there was a hard knot in his chest. Zoey loved him and he was afraid of losing her. Both of these things didn’t fit with his view of the world. He was supposed to be chasing a stable life, looking to settle down and make a family with someone who matched him. Not falling in love with a wild, whimsical woman who revved his engine and made him break his own rules.

But as he walked back into his house, his legs feeling heavy and stiff as though they were filled with concrete, he knew that tonight had fundamentally changed things. He could no longer deny that his feelings about Zoey were purely based on responsibility. He could no longer deny that his attraction to her was more than skin deep.

Fact was, there was a very real possibility that he loved Zoey, too. But this possibility wasn’t a green light to act. What if he messed it all up and lost two people he cared about as much as if they were his own family? He couldn’t have that.

Risk didn’t always equal reward. He knew that better than anyone.

10

One month later…

The Sweet on You dessert food truck was about to make its debut. In the last four weeks Zoey had used every one of her charms to get the Westfalia into shape, diligently working through the list that Mack had given her. She’d called in favours, traded free coffee and treats for a discount, and dug into her savings once more.

Now the day was here… kind of.

She and Gwen weren’t quite ready to launch the business. They still needed to set up their website and socials, as well as a proper way of tracking their costs. Oh, and the Westfalia was unfortunately still rocking its scummy green look since the only custom paint place in the vicinity was booked out and not taking clients for another few weeks.

But an opportunity had come up that was too good to refuse. The local municipality was holding a “supporting young women in business” event and since Gwen’s aunt worked in the local government office, she’d extended an invitation. Serving their desserts to the local townsfolk would be a great soft opening. It had also helped to expedite their registrations, since it was for a government initiative.

But even as Zoey was setting up with Gwen, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel as excited as she should. After all, she was still suffering from the humiliation of blurting out that she loved Mack.

What had she been thinking? Clearly nothing at all. Perhaps multiple orgasms negatively impacted a woman’s brain function.

Someone should do a study on that. Reasons not to have sex—it causes bad decisions.

“Hey.” Gwen placed a hand on Zoey’s shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. They were standing over some plastic tubs of baked products, loading them into the displays sitting atop the fold-down counter. “Are you okay? You’re really quiet.”

“I guess I’m nervous,” she lied. Truth was, she wasn’t nervous at all… not about the business, anyway. She knew that would be a hit.

Last night she’d stayed up late playing sous chef to Gwen, doing the menial jobs like chopping butter and washing bowls and measuring ingredients. Ever since the night she crashed at Gwen’s place, they hadn’t talked about Mack. By Zoey’s request. Gwen didn’t need to be bogged down with her crap.

But her empathetic and emotionally intelligent friend never missed a trick. “No, you’re not. You’re pining.”

“I’m not pining.” Zoey frowned.

“You are. It’s fine, you’ve been pining after Mack since you were dressing like Avril Lavigne.”

“Way to kick a girl when she’s down.” Zoey wadded up a napkin and threw it at her friend. “I do not need a walk down the dark alley of mid 2000s emo fashion, thank you very much.”

“All I’m saying is, there’s nothing wrong with how you feel.” Gwen used a cake server to carefully place her pieces of jelly slice onto a cake tray that would have a glass dome over the top. They could only fit about six or seven in there, which wasn’t ideal, as the rest would have to stay in a container and be replenished throughout the event. “At least you can go to bed at night knowing you spoke your truth.”

More like blurted it out in the middle of an argument… while I was naked.

But Gwen didn’t need to know that embarrassing detail.

Zoey filled a glass jar with Gwen’s homemade Iced Vovo biscuits. The iconic pink and red striped biscuits were an Aussie staple and would go perfectly with the coffee Zoey would serve from her espresso machine. They’d gone with an “pink and red” theme for today’s menu, which also included mini strawberry cheesecakes, pink champagne macarons brushed with gold dust, and peppermint fudge that had been tinted a pale pink and sprinkled with crushed candy cane. The effect was Instagram-worthy, to say the least.

“I made a fool of myself,” she grumbled in reply as she replaced the lid on the biscuit jar. “He thinks I’m this brash, impulsive girl who treats life like one big game.”

“Well, you are a little brash and impulsive,” Gwen said, nudging her. “But that’s what us serious folks love about you.”

Zoey laughed. Now that she thought about it, Gwen and Mack had pretty similar personalities. They were both highly responsible, Type-A, risk-averse types and Zoey was their foil, always pushing them to try new things and have fun. Clearly, she had a type—for both friends and love interests.

“He thinks I won’t amount to anything.”

“I don’t believe that.” Gwen shook her head. “Do you really think Mack would have spent the afternoon helping you clean up the green beast if he didn’t think you had any potential? Why would he waste his time?”

“Obligation.” Mack was good at that.

“No. I’ve known him my whole life and he has zero time for fools. Seriously, even when we were young if he decided he didn’t like someone it was as if they ceased to exist. And he most definitely knows you exist.”

It had certainly felt that way the night they slept together. It was almost as if once he decided to bring her home, another side of him came out to play—he was tender, funny, sweet, sexy. All the things she knew he was deep down, underneath his layers of armour. For a brief, glittering moment she’d thought that maybe everything she’d dreamed could come true.

But that story about his sister’s failure… it had socked her right in the gut. Because he thought Zoey would make the same mistakes, that her impulsiveness would bring others down. And that hurt.

“Whatever happens,” Gwen said, wrapping an arm around Zoey’s shoulders, “know that you are one hundred percent awesome and Sweet on You is going to be a success. If he doesn’t want a slice of that, then that’s his issue.”

In spite of the hollow feeling in her gut, Zoey smiled. Running a business with her best friend was something to be celebrated and she couldn’t be more grateful to have Gwen in her corner.

“You got that right,” she said, sucking in a breath and giving herself a mental pick-me-up. “Let’s do this thing!”

Mack had never been surrounded by so much pink in all his life. The Young Women in Business expo was being held in the indoor sports stadium of the local high school. The building wasn’t much bigger than a basketball court, and had been filled with booths showcasing all kinds of female-run businesses, including artisanal goods like wine from a boutique vineyard and preserves from a local berry farm run by the granddaughters of a longstanding Patterson’s Bluff resident. There was a booth aimed at helping female entrepreneurs get startup funding and another for a city university encouraging more women to join the technology field.

Mack was happy to see folks of all kinds showing their support—the place was packed. Outside, however, was where he was most interested in. The Sweet on You food truck sat beside a farmer’s market tent selling produce and a pop-up from one of the local restaurants selling fancy paninis and salads.

The sight of the ugly green Volkswagen Westfalia lifted the corner of his lip. He had to hand to Zoey and Gwen, they were certainly selling it. There was a line out front and both wore huge smiles and matching yellow aprons. Zoey was working the espresso machine and Gwen was managing the register, and they moved in unison. As one man walked back towards the stadium, he bit into a piece of jelly slice and audibly moaned while his partner commented on how amazing the coffee was. Mack couldn’t have been prouder of them both.

He’d been stewing on what to do about patching things up with Zoey. He hated how they’d left things. Or rather, how he’d left things. Because Zoey had taken a leap and told him how she felt. She’d been honest and upfront, and he’d returned the favor by letting her believe he underestimated her when, in fact, it was simply his fear of losing her.

But he’d never been too good with words. He was better with his hands, with actions, but when it came to love sometimes you had to spit it out.

Did he love Zoey?

It was a thought he’d pondered a lot the last month. In a way, he’d always loved her. The times she’d been living on her own and he’d felt the responsibility to check in on her—that was love. The times he’d picked her up from a bar at one a.m. because she was tipsy and her brother was still working—that was love. All the times he’d watched her blow out birthday candles, wishing that everything she wanted would fall at her feet—that was love.

And the night they’d spent together when he’d cradled her body, shocked with how content and complete he felt—that, too, was love.

His fears about losing her were real, and the worry of it all going wrong and ruining his relationship with her and her brother hovered in his mind. But what was life without risk? Zoey had taught him that. In many ways, her bravery and resilience were the things he loved most about her. Yeah, sometimes she leaped without looking, and to Mack, hope wasn’t a strategy. But to someone like him, who could get tangled up in all the things that might go wrong, she was a breath of fresh air.

Balance.

Zoey had been right about that. Their differences weren’t something to be feared, but to be celebrated. They were a strength rather than a barrier. He was going to tell Zoey how he felt. That he loved her. That she was right. That she was worth the risk.

But before he could even think of how to put it all into words, someone screamed, “Fire!”

Smoke wafted into the air from behind the Sweet on You food truck and bright yellow and red flames licked up the back end of the vehicle. Mack raced over as the crowd scattered, pushing past people with fear clogging the back of his throat. If Zoey hadn’t fixed all the issues he’d pointed out, then a fire could spread quickly. Or cause an explosion. If the generator hadn’t been replaced…

Stop it. Zoey knows what she’s doing. She came to you because she wanted to do it right.

The two women piled out of the food truck and Gwen ran towards him, wide-eyed. But Zoey was running in the other direction, towards the back. She had a fire extinguisher in her hands—one of the things he’d recommended she include in her upgrades.

The extinguisher hissed and released its fluid, creating a foamy substance that splattered the back of the truck and the ground where the fire had caught on a patch of greenery lining the walkway. In seconds, the fire was out.

“Thank God we weren’t on the oval with all that dry grass.” Gwen shook her head. Every Australian knew the dangers of a dry summer. She looked shaken and Mack put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. “I have no idea what happened.”

“You’ve gone into business with a bad egg, Gwen Marsh,” a voice piped up beside them. An older woman with thin, gold-wire glasses perched on her nose was shaking her head. It was Mrs. Harris, their long-retired high school history teacher. “That girl was a menace even as a child.”

“A menace?” Gwen gaped at the older woman. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And you always were a gullible one.” Mrs. Harris shook her head again. “She’s just like her mother. Reckless, irresponsible. Comes from a whole family of troublemakers.”

“I’ll ignore the irony of you tearing down Zoey in the middle of a ‘supporting young women in business’ event,” Mack said, turning to face the older woman. “And simply tell you that you’re dead wrong. Zoey is nothing like her mother. She’s hard-working, kind, optimistic and resilient. If you don’t see that she has massive potential to be a great contributor to our community, then that is a failing on you, not on her.”

Mrs. Harris’s mouth fell open. She’d loved him when he was a kid—had always jokingly called him her “favourite student” because he was diligent and always did his homework, even when he hated the subject. But he wasn’t going to let her cast aspersions on Zoey in front of everyone.

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen under her spell, too,” Mrs. Harris scoffed. “I thought you’d do so much better than that, Brian. It won’t last, you know.”

“Yes, it will.” When he said the words aloud, he felt it to the depths of his soul. “It’s forever.”

Suddenly he realised that he wasn’t only speaking to Mrs. Harris. All the people standing around were staring at him, including Zoey. The fire had been put out before it could spread but she still had the extinguisher in her hands. A woman in a black dress and a man with a bald head were inspecting the area behind the truck.

“Forever?” Zoey asked, shaking her head. “It’s not even for now.”

Beside him, Mrs. Harris made a noise of smug amusement. Oh boy. Mack really didn’t want things to go down like this—publicly, with his potential rejection on display for the whole town to see. Declarations with an audience were so not his style.

What would Zoey do?

She’d put herself on the line, just like she’d already done over and over. She would light up the sky with her message if that’s what it took. Because she was brave and fearless. Because she tried no matter how tough an obstacle appeared.

“That’s my fault,” Mack said, walking towards her. “Honestly, sometimes you terrify me.”

“Gee… thanks?” Her silvery blue eyes were locked onto his as she placed the spent extinguisher on the ground.

“You live every day with your heart on your sleeve and you don’t care who sees it.” He shook his head, fighting the urge to turn around and tell everyone to get lost so they could have a private moment. But the fact was, it didn’t matter who saw him right now. The only thing that mattered was Zoey. “You operate with a level of hope and optimism that seemed impossible to me for a long time, because I misunderstood what it meant. I thought hoping meant acting without a plan, but it’s not that at all. It’s belief. Belief that you can make the life you want, belief that if you keep trying, you’ll make it to where you want to be.”

Zoey’s cheeks were flushed from the flurry of activity earlier, and a few colourful hairs had escaped around her face. She looked beautiful and real and Mack knew without a shadow of a doubt, this was the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

The only question that remained, was whether or not she would forgive him for being a fool.

11

Zoey was on a legitimate rollercoaster of emotions. One second everything had been great—Sweet on You had happy customers, some already coming back for a second or even third treat. Then terror had set in as she smelled smoke and someone yelled fire. Instinct had gotten her to the fire extinguisher quickly and she hadn’t hesitated to run towards the smoke, desperate to save her business and prevent those around her from being hurt. Disbelief had clogged her lungs as the flames dampened, eventually snuffed out under the white foam.

How could this have happened?

She’d done everything Mack suggested. The insurance guy had been very impressed with her preparedness. Could she have missed something? Would people think this was her fault?

Her heart had almost split in two with the snide remark Mrs. Harris made—loud enough that everyone could hear. The old bat had hated her family ever since her mother was in high school. For a moment, Zoey wondered if everyone saw her that way. Inept. A genetically assured failure.

But now this… Mack standing up in front of the people in their town and declaring his feelings in a very un-Mack-like way.

“Zoey.” He reached for her hand. “You taught me a valuable lesson. Making a mistake doesn’t define you. What defines you are the steps you take next—your reaction to the mistake, your commitment to try again.”

“I do believe that,” she said with a nod.

“I’m here, owning up to my mistake.” He sucked in a breath. She’d never seen him like this before—strong and vulnerable in equal measure. Open and bare and raw. “Zoey, will you forgive me for being a complete tool? Not saying I loved you back is the most inauthentic thing I’ve ever done.” His eyes looked almost golden in the bright midday light and the sun giving a warm glow to his brown hair.

She opened her mouth to respond but he held up a hand.

“Wait. That’s me taking the easy route again. The safe route. Zoey…” The air seemed to crackle around them. She could see the change in him—the change she’d helped make. “I have loved you ever since I was a teenage boy with more hormones than brains and you were my best mate’s quirky little sister. I have loved you more and more every year and now it feels like my life would be appallingly incomplete without you.”

Her mouth hung open. Words raced in her brain like a flock of seagulls being chased and scattered into the air. Mack had always loved her? Just like she had always loved him?

“I love you, Zoey, with my whole heart.”

She blinked, unable to form a response. Maybe it was the rapid lows and highs of the day, but the world felt as though it was tilting beneath her feet. She’d been miserable after leaving his house a month ago, convinced that she’d tried for the last time.

“Did I fuck it up so bad that you really don’t know what to say?” he asked, his voice soft so that only the two of them could hear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before.”

But she was.

Because even after he’d hurt her, she still loved him. Nothing would ever shake that as long as they both lived. Even when he’d been with his ex and she’d tried to date around and forget him… she couldn’t. Mack was it. Her forever guy.

“I uh… I’m going to call Melody, too,” he said. “You made me realise that I’d been pretty hard on her over this whole thing.”

“I’m so proud of you.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

When his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly to him, it felt as though everything would be okay. Whatever the issue with the food truck was, she would fix it. Whatever damage her reputation had taken, she would fix it. Whatever mistakes she made in the future, she would fix them all.

And she could, because she had Mack at her side.

Someone wolf-whistled in the crowd and Zoey’s face burned. Pulling back, she glanced in the direction of the sound and saw Sean flashing her two thumbs up. Best big brother ever.

When she turned back to Mack, there was hope in his eyes. Excitement. Her stomach fluttered, the possibility of the future like fireworks shimmering in the sky.

“I love you too, Mack,” she said to the handsome, rock-solid man in front of her.

“Sorry for taking so long to see it.” He brushed his lips against hers, softer this time but no less wonderful. “And we’re going to make up for lost time.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A flash of movement broke them apart, and the event coordinator strode towards them. “Zoey? Umm, can I have a word?”

“Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of Mack.” She reached for his hand and clutched it tight. It felt good to be a team. “And Gwen.”

She motioned for Gwen to join them. The man with the bald head shooed the rest of the crowd away, asking them to get back to enjoying the event.

“Okay.” The event coordinator nodded. “We happened to have Pete from the fire department volunteering today because his daughter is one of our vendors. He took a look at the fire and it appears to have been lit by a cigarette butt. Someone must have flicked it onto the ground and it caught on some napkins that had blown out of a rubbish bin. The wind helped it to spread to the grassy area which, unfortunately, was right near your truck. From what I can tell the fire was mostly on the grass, however.”

“Thank goodness.” Zoey let out a long breath. She’d been too caught up with putting the fire out and then hearing Mack out that she hadn’t gotten around to thinking about whether or not the Westfalia would make it out alive. This was very good news, indeed.

“I’m afraid you can’t get back to operating out of the truck until we’ve had someone come in an official capacity to deem it safe, but we’ve freed up a stall for you to use inside. If you’re happy to take that table at least you should be able to sell through the rest of your product.”

Zoey sighed. It certainly wasn’t the way she’d hoped the day would end up, but that was life. Sweet on You would live to sweeten another day.

“We’ll be looking at the security footage to find out who dropped the butt.” The woman touched Zoey’s shoulder. “I would hate for your business to take the hit of this, so we’ll be issuing a statement about what happened as well. I’m so sorry you were affected.”

“Thank you.” She nodded. “I really appreciate that.”

As the woman walked away, Mack slung his arm around Zoey’s shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a stall to set up and people to feed.”

She looked up at him, heart full of love. “Are you saying you want to work at Sweet on You?”

“Nah, how would I get any work done having a boss as hot as you?” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you still have that little white bikini hanging around somewhere?”

She laughed. “I’m sure I could dig it out of my closet.”

“Excellent.” He leaned down and let his lips brush against her ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about seeing you in it again for a full month now.”

In front of them, Gwen rolled her eyes and clapped her hands together. “Enough of that, lovebirds. We’ve got a business to run!”

“Yeah, we do.” Zoey grinned. “Let’s go sell some desserts.”

The three of them worked together to bring everything inside, and she had never felt more loved and supported in all her life. With the right people around her, no dream was too big, and no obstacle was too difficult. Knowing that she and Mack had finally come together—and that mistakes were not the end of the world—meant the world to her.

After all, relationships were the sprinkles on the cupcake of life, and Zoey intended to make every day even sweeter than the last.

Epilogue

Eight months later

The kitchen was a mess.

Mack surveyed the chaos from the archway that connected the kitchen with the dining area, noting the splatters across his usually pristine white marble island and the dribble of red pasta sauce down one of the pale grey cabinets. A bottle of wine was open and there was a glass next to it with a pink lipstick smudge on the rim.

Zoey was still wearing the outfit from their walk along the beach that afternoon—which included a pair of skimpy denim shorts that hugged her heart-shaped arse to perfection. Her colourful hair was pulled back into a loose plait, the ends of which skimmed the sliver of bare skin between her white T-shirt and the shorts.

It was a bold move wearing white while making a red pasta sauce. Mack had three aprons hanging in the walk-in pantry, because he hated getting dirty while he cooked. But Zoey never seemed to remember they were there.

Their guests were due in fifteen minutes and it looked like a team of toddlers had decided to have a food fight in the kitchen.

“Zo,” he said, gently. “Why don’t you go and get changed?”

She jumped, jerking the wooden spoon in her hand and sloshing some pasta sauce over the side of the pot. There was way too much liquid in there. “Already? But I haven’t even… Wait, what was I supposed to be doing next?”

An unusual crease formed between her brows. Zoey didn’t get overly stressed about small things—she always saw the bright side in any challenge and her go-with-the-flow attitude helped her navigate most hurdles. But she’d been on edge all day.

He crossed the kitchen and gently eased the wooden spoon from her hand, placing it in the holder he used to keep the countertops clean. Ironically, it seemed to be the only thing not splattered with sauce.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “You’ve been acting strange today.”

“Have I?” She looked up at him with her silvery blue eyes.

“Yeah. Usually when we’re seeing friends, you’re all excited. But today you just seem… stressed.”

Mack had been trying to ignore the hard knot forming in his stomach all day long. The past month had brought change for them both. For a good outcome, granted. But he always found change daunting regardless. And after months of Zoey staying at his place, leaving her sexy underwear on his floor and slowly taking over his bathroom cabinets with her hair products and makeup, they’d had the “talk.”

The “we should live together” talk.

And so they did. Almost four weeks ago to the day, Mack had borrowed a van from one of his mates at work, and he—along with Sean and Gwen—had helped Zoey move into his place. They were exited. But he knew she still had some lingering guilt over leaving her brother because they’d lived together almost their entire lives, barring the year Sean was in Melbourne. And Zoey knew that Mack was particular about keeping his house immaculately clean, to the point it would drive most people up the wall.

“I just…” Her eyes grew watery and Mack braced himself. Was this it? One month in and she was ready to call it quits?

Maybe he’d been a little harsh about instituting a cleaning schedule. Or maybe she’d caught him rearranging the washing she’d hung on the line. Ugh. Why couldn’t he leave things be? The perfectionism was drilled into him deep; it was a hard habit to shake.

What if Zoey was starting to think Mack had been right all along—that they were incompatible? Only he didn’t think that anymore. Not at all. Zoey was his perfect opposite, his balance. His counterweight.

And he was hers.

“Tonight is our first dinner party and I wanted everything to be perfect, but I think I burned the sauce.” She sniffed.

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It stuck to the bottom because I was cracking eggs for the cake.” She swiped a hand across the back of her eye. “And then I felt bad, because you offered to cook and I know you would have done a better job. But I felt like I had to prove I could do this. That I could be a responsible adult who cooks great meals for our friends, like you do.”

“Zo, what are you talking about?” He cupped her face. “You run your own bloody business. You’re creative and sharp and smart as hell. Why do you think you have something to prove?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down. “I… wanted to impress you.”

“You impress me every day.” He pulled her to him and swiped at a dot of sauce on her cheek with his thumb. When he stuck it into his mouth and tasted the sauce, it was definitely burned. “You’re nominated for a small business award, for crying out loud. Sweet on You is the hottest new thing in town. Sure, maybe your skills in the kitchen aren’t the best. But it would be unfair if you could cook on top of everything else.”

She cocked her head “Why?”

“Because how would I impress you?” He laughed as she made a scoffing sound. “It’s true. I love cooking for you. I love hearing those sexy moans you make when you taste my meals. I love watching you enjoy my food. Don’t take that away from me, okay? I need it.”

He was hamming it up for her amusement, and it worked. She laughed and, though the sound was a little watery, it soothed his soul.

“You don’t need to try and be some stereotype of what you think the perfect girlfriend is to keep me happy, okay? I don’t want a 50s housewife. I want you.”

Zoey let out a breath and he could practically feel her stress evaporating into the air. “I don’t know why I was putting so much pressure on myself. It felt like a big deal—the first time all our friends were coming here to have a meal with both of us. This is your house and I guess I wanted them to see…”

The penny dropped. She didn’t want it to feel like she was just another guest in his home.

“And here I was thinking you were having second thoughts about us living together,” he said.

“No way!” Her eyes widened. “Wait, are you having second thoughts?”

“Not even for a moment.” He tightened his arms around her waist and lowered his forehead to hers. “Zoey, you’re the woman for me. This past month has been an adjustment, I know. I’m not the easiest guy to live with because I’m uptight and I like rules and schedules and I’m a bit of a neat freak. But having you here every day—being able to wake up with you in my arms—it’s a blessing. I’ve never been so happy in my entire life as I am right now.”

“Aw.” Her eyes watered again. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.”

“I love you, Zo.”

“I love you, too.”

He lowered his head down to hers and captured her lips in a deep, soulful kiss. Kissing her always felt brand new, no matter how many times they did it. Her hands slipped into his hair as she kissed him back, rubbing her gorgeous body against his.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

“Shit.” Zoey yanked out of his grip and grabbed a tea towel, waving it at the smoke detector to get the obnoxious beeping to stop.

Mack leaned over and turned the stove off, then he pulled the pot of sauce off the warm burner. It was well and truly ruined. Flicking the catch on the window above the sink, he slid it open so the smoky air could escape and hopefully take the smell with it.

“Go and get changed,” he said, kissing her on the nose. “I’ll clean up in here and we’ll get some of those delicious woodfire pizzas from the Italian place.”

Zoey sighed. “I didn’t even get the cake in the oven.”

They both glanced over to the silver bowl containing the batter. The thick, cream-coloured liquid looked lumpy and unpalatable. There was a reason Gwen was in charge of the menu for Sweet on You and Zoey stuck to running the espresso machine and managing the business and marketing side of things.

“We’ll order a tiramisu with the pizzas and you can make affogatos to go with it.”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea. You know how to solve every problem.”

“What do you think I did when I was learning to cook? There was more than one occasion where I ruined my meal and ordered pizza instead. It’s part of the learning process.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Thanks for not making me feel stupid.”

“Did you make me feel stupid when I stressed out about our trip to Thailand and made you go to the airport three and a half hours before the flight?”

She laughed. “No, I didn’t. But that’s because I’m always happy to go duty-free shopping.”

“Neither of us are perfect,” he said. “But we’re perfect for each other.”

“We really are, aren’t we?” A sparkling smile lit up her face.

“And I might have built this house, but I consider it ours, okay?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and she nodded. “I want it to feel like home.”

“Anywhere with you feels like home, Mack.”

He kissed her again, softer this time. They lingered for a moment—lips touching, fingers playing with hair, neither of them wanting to break away. But the sound of a bike engine finally encouraged him to pull back. Through the front window, he saw Sean striding up the driveway.

“Let me take care of this,” he said. “Go and freshen up. Take your time. I want you to enjoy tonight.”

“I will.” She pressed up onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “I enjoy every day with you.”

“And the nights?”

Her eyes darkened with heat. “Even more.”

As he watched her skip out of the kitchen, throwing a sultry glance over one shoulder before she disappeared around the corner, Mack couldn’t help but smile. He never though he’d be standing in chaos, feeling like the luckiest man alive. But he did.

And he knew that feeling would never, ever fade.

Thank you for reading Mack and Zoey’s story. I hope you enjoyed your visit to Patterson’s Bluff.

Want more hot Aussie heroes and small town goodness? There’s a brand new Patterson’s Bluff story coming your way. Read on to get a sneak peek at A Merry Aussie Christmas, book #1 in the Holidays in the Bluff series.

A Merry Aussie Christmas

Their relationship is so fake it comes with costumes…

At seventeen, Jasper left Patterson’s Bluff so fast the dust cloud never settled. But when fate brings him back, he’s ready to prove he’s not a bad egg like his criminal father. So, he slaps some reindeer antlers on his Basset Hound and volunteers to be Santa for the festive season.

Being her hometown’s official Mrs. Claus was supposed to be fun. Instead, Evie is stuck being “married” to the sexy bad boy she crushed on in high school. The same one who broke her heart when he left town. But she can’t deny their chemistry burns hotter than an open fire.

It’ll take a holiday miracle for them not to ruin Christmas. Can the misunderstood bad boy and the town golden girl get a second chance at love? Or will Evie be stuck in Jasper’s rear-view mirror once more?

Three weeks to Christmas

Evie Dunn tried not to think about other people’s private lives too often. However, given the amount of skin her costume revealed, it was hard not to come to the conclusion that Mrs. Claus was definitely getting some.

Standing in the middle of the management office at the Patterson’s Bluff Retirement Home, she turned and checked out her rear view in a full-length mirror affixed to the inside door of a coat closet. Her red velvet dress was trimmed in white faux fur and it skimmed the backs of her thighs a little higher than Evie would have thought appropriate for a family-friendly event. One wrong move and she’d end up on Santa’s naughty list.

And while Evie spent her days exploring new styles and trends as manager of Silk & Stash, Patterson’s Bluff’s most fashionable clothing boutique, even she didn’t push the boundaries of fashion this far.

She frowned. “Don’t you think this is a little…?”

Angie cocked her head. “Risqué?”

Evie laughed. “I was going to say skanky, but yes, let’s go with risqué.”

“It is on the short side.” Angie folded her arms across her uniform shirt, which had the retirement home’s logo embroidered on one pocket. Since returning to Australia after getting married overseas, she’d taken on a managerial role at the retirement home and volunteered to be Evie’s second-in-charge on the event committee. “I swear it didn’t look that short on the model when we ordered it online.”

“There’s not much we can do about it now, unfortunately,” Evie said. “At least my legs will stay cool.”

It was a trade-off, for sure. Because Christmas-themed outfits were cute and all, but 100% polyester faux fur and the Aussie sun didn’t mix. Talk about sweat city! Oh, to live in a place where the holidays occurred in winter. She’d grown up watching all manner of Christmas movies—How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Home Alone, The Muppet Christmas Carol, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation—and all of them showed the cold, snowy holidays of her dreams.

Not a single one depicted her experience of Christmas: sweltering while helping her mum cook a full roast lunch in the middle of summer.

This was precisely why she’d skipped the fur-trimmed boots that came with the Mrs. Claus costume, opting for a pair of glittery silver sandals, instead. At least if she was sweltering in the polyester dress, her legs would be mercifully free. Plus, the sandals gave her some much-needed height. The last thing she wanted was someone mistaking her for one of Santa’s elves instead of his wife.

“This might be the first time in my entire life that I’ve had a skirt be too short,” she joked.

At 150cm, Evie missed out on being able to claim she was five feet tall by a hair. Therefore, having a skirt that was too short was kind of novel… if she ignored the very real fear that she would end up flashing someone over the course of the afternoon.

She picked up a large, glittering hoop earring with a tiny Christmas tree hanging from the bottom and leaned close to the mirror so she could see to slip it through her ear.

Angie gasped. “I love your earrings.”

“Thanks.” Evie’s cheeks warmed at the praise.

She’d finished making them the night before, spending an hour creating the little trees with a needle, thread, and tiny, glimmering beads. There was nothing that satisfied her more than bringing a design to life. But she didn’t often tell people she made all her own jewellery, because then they would ask her why she didn’t start a business to sell the bloody things.

Who wanted the hassle of running their own business? Not her.

“Thanks again for agreeing to be my vice-president this year,” Evie said. “It’s great that you’re diving into all this community engagement stuff. I know people who’ve lived here their whole lives who don’t care about this place half as much as you do.”

Her friend beamed. “That really means a lot. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Santa should be here any minute,” Angie said, dropping down into the chair beside her desk. It was delightfully chaotic, with rainbow Post-it notes stuck everywhere, and cluttered with small plants, a mug shaped like a llama head, and a photo of her and Jace. “Apparently he’s bringing a ‘reindeer’ of some kind.”

“Now that I’d like to see. And in case you didn’t know, reindeer are not native to Australia.”

Angie laughed. “I picked up on that.”

“So, what happened with Sean’s replacement, anyway?” Evie asked. “I saw you sent an email saying it had been sorted, but you were still waiting for the new volunteer to sign the paperwork. I was so busy at work this week I completely forgot to write back.”

Work had been crazier than usual, what with getting all the Christmas stock ticketed and ready for the holiday season. She’d even missed the weekly Dunn family dinner last Wednesday, which was not like her at all.

“Tell me we didn’t end up with Paul,” she pleaded.

But as Angie opened her mouth to respond to Evie’s question, the door to the admin office swung open. Santa was officially in the building. The tall figure walked into the room with a hip-rolling gait that made Evie’s mouth run dry. He was already in full festive getup—an identical hat to the one she wore on top of his wavy light brown hair, and a curly white beard covering what she knew to be a jaw sharp enough to turn a grown woman to mush.

But it was, as always, something else that had Evie’s breath catching in her throat—the man’s beautiful, unusual eyes. One as blue as the waters rimming the coast of Patterson’s Bluff and the other a mix of that same blue and a warm whisky-brown.

Jasper bloody McCann.

Also known as the last person she would ever want to spend her holidays with.

Didn’t the saying go that revenge was a dish best served cold? Well, Jasper wasn’t so sure about that. Because this particular revenge was proving to be smoking hot and he’d only just set foot into the room. Of course Evie Dunn was wearing an outfit that looked like something out of a fantasy.

But the sparkly shoes and short hem showing off her incredible legs wasn’t the most appealing thing he could see right now. Oh no, that honour went to Evie’s facial expression. The facial expression that told him (a) she had not known he was her replacement festive counterpart and (b) she still thought as lowly of him as always.

“Hey, wifey,” he said, strolling toward her with Big Ears trailing in after him. The reindeer antler headband he’d put on the dog’s head contained a few bells that jangled with each plodding step.

“Don’t ‘wifey’ me.” The woman might have the face of an angel, but she also had the temper of a footy player about to lose a finals match. It was a lot of emotion in a very petite package. “Is this a joke?”

Evie’s head swung in the direction of Angie, whose eyes were wide as saucers. Being a newcomer to Patterson’s Bluff, she probably had no idea that Evie had a beef with Jasper that went all the way back to high school. “Uh…”

“No joke.” Jasper stuck his hands into the pockets of his Santa pants and braced himself for the prickly shock. The damn things created so much static he’d almost zapped poor Big Ears loading him into the car on the way over. “I’m Sean’s replacement.”

“You?” Evie looked at him with a glance that could turn a man to stone. “How on earth did Sean convince you to step up?”

“Maybe I lost a bet,” he quipped, happier to leave her thinking he’d been forced into this arrangement than knowing he’d come willingly.

She got under his skin in the worst and best ways possible. But telling Evie he’d readily agreed was a bad idea, because that would only encourage questions. And he didn’t hate anything as much as he hated questions. So he’d done what any normal guy would do: made a joke and let someone think poorly of him rather than be vulnerable.

“He lost a bet. Maybe.” Evie shook her head and looked at Angie as if to say, Ugh, men. “Are you sure you can do this? I don’t even know why you’d want to, frankly.”

Jasper bristled even though he’d known the kind of reaction he would get from Evie. According to her, he was trouble. Rough around the edges. They didn’t have any tracks in town, but if they did then Jasper would have been from the wrong side of them.

“I’m playing Santa, not running for mayor,” he drawled, unable to stop himself wanting to bait her. “You don’t need to worry about my intentions being pure. I assure you they’re not. In fact, I’d say they’re about as pure as your dress.”

Her jaw tightened. “What’s wrong with the dress?”

Not a single thing. Everything about that dress was right—from the fur trim that seemed to have flecks of glitter in it to the way the shape accentuated Evie’s small waist and rounded shoulders. She had a black belt cinching her in and some shimmery stuff slicked across her lips that distracted him every time she spoke. That would be a problem, he predicted.

Because Evie had a big mouth and she liked to use it.

“Shopping in the kids’ section again?” He let his lips pull up into a smirk that he knew would drive her nuts. Maybe it made him a bad person, but the opportunity to taunt Evie was too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

After what he’d been through, he welcomed the distraction.

Is that really all this is about?

Sure, he was helping a friend in need. But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t go deeper than that.

He wanted the people of Patterson’s Bluff to accept him. Was that wishing for a miracle? Maybe. But what better way to see if he might be able to change people’s minds than by showing his face and trying to attach his presence to something good instead of all the crappy stuff it was attached to now? Crappy stuff like how his father was a criminal and how Jasper was a bad egg like dear old Dad.

Stuff that, while true, wasn’t who Jasper was anymore.

“Oh, a short person joke. How original.” Evie rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you dangle something over my head where I can’t reach it?”

“Uh, we should probably get going.” Poor Angie wore a smile faker than the antlers on his dog’s head. “The people here are really looking forward to today.”

Jasper could read the subtext. “Don’t worry, Angie. We’re going to give them a great time. Isn’t that right, wifey?”

He chuckled as Evie marched out of the room, the angry steps causing her skirt to swish enticingly at the backs of her thighs. Grinning, he signalled for Big Ears to follow him.

“Don’t worry about her, mate,” he said to the dog. “She’ll come around to us. They all will.”

To keep reading Evie and Jasper’s story, pick up a copy of A Merry Aussie Christmas at your preferred retailer.

Amazon US

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Amazon Aus

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About the Author

Stefanie London is a multi-award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of over twenty contemporary romances and romantic comedies. Her books have been called “genuinely entertaining and memorable” by Booklist, and “Elegant, descriptive and delectable” by RT magazine.

Her stories have won multiple industry awards, including the HOLT Medallion and OKRWA National Reader’s Choice Award, and she has been nominated for the Romance Writers of America RITA award.

Originally from Melbourne, Australia, Stefanie now lives in Toronto with her very own hero. She can often be found reading, knitting, or shouting at whatever sport is on the television. She frequently indulges in her passions for good coffee, lipstick, and anything zombie-related. You can find her at www.stefanie-london.com.

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Other Books by Stefanie London

Patterson’s Bluff

The Aussie Next Door

Her Aussie Holiday

A Merry Aussie Christmas

Bad Bachelor

Bad Bachelor

Bad Reputation

Bad Influence

Other Titles

Forever Starts Now

Kissing Lessons

Kissing Games

How to Win a Fiancé

How to Lose a Fiancé

Trouble Next Door

and many more…

PRAISE FOR STEFANIE LONDON

“Outstanding contemporary romance. In a sea of “hot guys in suits,” London’s sharp writing helps this sweet and sexy story stand out from the crowd.” — Lauren Layne, New York Times bestselling author on Bad Bachelor

“A genuinely entertaining and memorable read.”— Booklist, starred review for Bad Bachelor

“London shows that she truly excels at character development…” — Kirkus, starred review for The Aussie Next Door

“Another beautifully crafted and sizzlingly sexy tale... A wonderful escapist treat.” — Booklist, review for Bad Reputation

“A romance reader’s delight… emotional and funny, with a fantastic cast of characters. I totally recommend!”— M. O'Keefe, USA Today bestselling author, on Bad Bachelor

“Stefanie London is the queen of sexy, flirtatious men with a heart of gold!” — Thoughts of a Blonde on Hard Deal

“Well-written, charming and utterly engaging…” Harlequin Junkie on The Aussie Next Door