The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Spencer

My knuckles hovered a couple of centimetres away from the closed door as I second-guessed myself for the millionth time. Coming here was a mistake. The worst idea ever. Get back in the ute and get out of here, the voice of common sense screamed in my ear.

Yeah, about that. If I’d listened to that sucker, I’d have chalked the whole fiasco off as just one of those things and got a full night’s sleep instead of angsting for hours about how I got it so wrong and what I should do about it. Like apologise, for instance. And where the fuck had that come from?

I’d apologised at the time, after all. It was just one of those things, right? Terry hadn’t seemed angry about my flirting, just a little... flustered. And there it was again. Why flustered? How had I read him so badly? And even if I had fucked up, there was no need to be standing on the poor man’s doorstep at nine the next morning just to offer another half-baked apology all over again, right?

Wrong, apparently, because there I was with a belly full of butterflies, looking like an idiot. I didn’t even have a damn visit written in my diary. I was due at Hawthorne’s in an hour in the complete opposite direction. But Hawthorne’s didn’t have Terry, did it? Go figure. And for some reason, I wanted to see the guy in person... again. Just call me a boneheaded fool and be done with it.

I drew a long slow breath and rapped my knuckles on the door.

A door slammed somewhere in the cottage and Terry’s voice rang out, “Coming.”

Yeah, if only. I smiled to myself as images of him doing exactly that circled my twisted brain. You’re a sick man, Spencer Thompson.

Still caught up in the inopportune fantasy, I was ill-prepared when the door flew open to reveal a flustered and out-of-breath Terry, wearing a pair of buttery soft jeans, with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and water dripping from his hair like he’d walked straight out of the shower, which I presumed he had.

The first fantasy hightailed it out of my brain to make room for the second, appearing in full living colour. Just damn.

Terry frowned when he saw it was me, those blue eyes skewering me in place, an unreadable emotion in their depths. Then he clutched the ends of the towel tighter to his chest like it was a string of pearls and I was reminded why I was there. “Spencer?” Terry glanced left and right like someone else might appear at any moment, then he returned his attention to me. “Did I leave something at the clinic?”

Me. “Oh, no,” I said a little huskily, then cleared my throat. “It’s, um... about last night, actually.” I watched as he drew the towel even tighter and sighed. “Look, I’ve clearly caught you at a bad time. I can wait outside for a bit if you like?”

Terry glanced down at the damp jeans hugging his slim legs and the water dripping from his hair and flushed a fetching colour of pink. “Oh, yeah, I was, um, just out of the shower.” He stared at me intently, still frowning, his teeth worrying that full bottom lip. Then he sighed and waved me inside. “Look. Why don’t you come in and take a seat? I won’t be a minute. I’ll just, um—” He indicated the hall leading off the lounge. “—finish up.”

Terry fled into the hall and the door closed with a definite click. I smiled and made myself comfortable at one end of the long couch and looked around. I’d stayed in the cottage a couple of times after indulging in Miller Station celebrations, so the place wasn’t new to me. Instead, it was a sense of Terry and his daughter that I found myself looking for.

A set of canes stood by the front door and I remembered Hannah had elbow crutches when I’d seen her at the airfield. Did she swap between them? Dog leads, a harness, and a couple of windbreakers hung from the coat hooks. An open laptop sat on the coffee table in front of me with a screensaver image of some pretty coastal town that I speculated was Painted Bay.

A selection of fiction books, both adult and teenage, were piled alongside the laptop, and when I turned one to read the title, I recognised it as an adult gothic fantasy, which for some reason made me smile. Clocking the other titles, it was clear that Hannah’s taste ran more to throw-back detective novels with copies of Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie earning a place in her current reading.

The remains of breakfast were still waiting to be cleared from the table, and a half mug of cold something with a skin of old milk on top sat on the hearth in front of the fire next to a mound of cushions. I pictured Terry sprawled out there the night before, reading his gothic fantasy and thinking about calling me. Which of course he hadn’t been. At least not in the way I might’ve hoped.

The door opened behind me and Terry appeared in a fresh pair of light-wash jeans and a clean, simple white T-shirt, his damp hair combed back from his face. “Sorry about that.” He slid into the armchair opposite, his gaze skittering over the room and landing anywhere but on my face.

“Don’t be.” I waited until he couldn’t avoid looking at me any longer, but his eyes when they finally settled on mine were wary to say the least. “It’s me who should be sorry,” I said. “And that’s why I came. To apologise in person for last night and, um... well, you know.”

He watched me for a long minute, like he was running my words through his head over and over, and just as I’d pretty much decided I really had made a big mistake, we broke the silence at the same time.

“I think coming here was a bad idea.”

“I wasn’t completely open?—”

We looked sideways at each other and started laughing. Then Terry waved a hand in front of me and said, “You first.”

“Fair enough.” I took a breath and nodded. “It was me who screwed up last night, not you,” I insisted. “I’m usually pretty good at reading people but I guess everyone has an off day, and I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Terry hesitated before responding, surprising me by asking, “So, what was your intention?”

I blinked. It was another of those moments that had me questioning all over again. Would a straight guy ask that ? “I think you probably know what my intention was, but in case I wasn’t clear, I was flirting with you, and then I was going to ask you out.” I’m not sure who was more shocked by the admission, Terry or me? My hammering heart certainly seemed surprised, along with my brain, which was flipping through my Rolodex to find the number of a good therapist.

Terry simply stared. “Ask me out?” He swallowed hard. “As on a date... or something?”

I shrugged. “I guess. Maybe more the or something option. To be honest, I was kind of winging it. Taking a guy, taking anyone on a date isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, if you get what I mean.”

“Oh.” Terry continued to look stunned, and his gaze slid from me to the window and the lake beyond. “But I’m only here for a week.”

Not the answer expected from a straight man... again . Heat unexpectedly rose in my cheeks. “Yeah, well, as I said, I was winging it. I guess I was just putting it out there to see what you’d do.”

More staring. And more chewing of those pretty lips as he studied me like a bug under a microscope.

I pushed to my feet. “I think maybe I should go?—”

“No, don’t,” Terry blurted, stopping me in my tracks. Then he winced and closed his eyes for a second, seeming to compose himself. “Sit. Please.”

I hesitated for a moment, then returned slowly to my seat on the couch.

Terry took a deep breath, his fingers working the hem of his T-shirt before he finally looked up. “As it turns out, you weren’t having an off day.”

“I wasn’t?” My stomach wobbled just a little. Relief or anticipation, I wasn’t sure.

“No. You, the flirting, all of it was so... unexpected. It’s not a common occurrence in my life—” He blushed adorably. “—and I was rattled, I guess. Men don’t usually see me in that way. Most assume I’m straight, especially when they know I have a kid. But you didn’t assume that, and to be honest, I had no idea how to respond.” He looked down at his lap for a second, then back up at me. “I’m bi, maybe demi, although I’m not so sure about the demi thing. I only know that I don’t react much to anyone... if you get what I mean?”

I blinked several times. “So, you’re not straight then?”

He smiled. “I think I just said that.”

Which led to another question. “Are you... not out?”

He sighed. “No, but not for the reasons you probably think. It’s a bit embarrassing, to be honest.”

“Hey.” I eyeballed him. “Who you like or don’t like to take to your bed is your business. It’s certainly not mine. We can stop this conversation right now if you’d rather, and I won’t raise it again.”

For the longest minute, Terry looked like he might be about to take me up on the offer, so I decided it might be a good idea for me to start the ball rolling. “Just to reiterate the fact, I’m bi,” I reminded him. “Shocker, I know.” I grinned and he returned it. “I’ve dated women and men from the moment I was old enough. A lot of both, if I’m honest. Some would say far too many, but I won’t apologise for that.”

“A regular Don Juan, huh?” Terry gave me a cheeky sideways grin that did funny things to my stomach.

I chuckled. “Hardly. And it sounds a lot more exciting than it is, especially in a small town.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it. Everyone knows your business and as for the dating options, you’re talking market stall rather than supermarket selection, right?”

He laughed. “Exactly. Anyway, I’m a pretty good listener as it happens. Comes with the job. But if you don’t want to talk, that’s totally your business.”

Terry slumped in his chair and blew out a long sigh. “It feels weird talking about this after so long, but I’ve always known or maybe guessed I’m bisexual, I’ve just never done the dating part much—” He grimaced. “Or at all, actually.”

My mouth quirked up. “I’m very discreet.”

Terry’s gaze remained steady on mine. “I think I already guessed that about you.” He tunnelled his fingers through his hair. “I dunno, maybe it’s time. And maybe you feel safe cos I don’t have to see you every day for the rest of my life.”

The reminder niggled for some reason, but the unexpected trust felt important. “I totally get that. But there’s no pressure here, Terry. It’s your story to do with what you want.”

Terry’s gaze shifted to his lap where his hands sat folded. “It must seem nuts to you that I’m still so vague about this shit at the ripe old age of thirty.”

“There’s no rules about coming out,” I reminded him, and he nodded.

“It’s not that I’m hiding in the closet.” He looked up, those blue eyes dancing on and off my face, checking my reaction. “It’s more that I’ve never felt strongly enough about anyone for it to even be an issue.” He flushed a deep pink, telling me that maybe that statement wasn’t entirely true. Then he refocused on his hands. “I like women. Sex with Amber, Hannah’s mother, wasn’t mind-blowing or anything, but it was good. As for men?” His blush deepened and he looked away. “I find women and men attractive, but it takes me a while, you know—” He seemed to be willing me to understand. “—with men or women. I don’t... connect in that way, not straight off.” He snorted at the pun. “All of which means I’m not really a hookup kind of guy, either.”

“Do you... you know?” I made the universal gesture for jerking off and watched his shocked gaze snap to meet mine.

Then he snorted. “Um, yes . But I’m not sure how that’s relevant.”

I raised my hands. “It’s info you can use in thinking about where you feel comfortable. Questions like, how often and what tickles up your interest might be helpful to ponder. Do you fantasise? Do you not care about it much either way? Maybe you hardly ever think about it? Maybe you obsess? There’s no right or wrong answer just... information.”

Terry eyeballed me. “Okay, but you first.”

I blinked. I hadn’t seen that coming but... fair enough. “Okay, well, I’m an avid proponent of my right hand, although I am pretty ambidextrous so... lucky me. Use it or lose it, I always say. I have a rich fantasy life, which includes a recent handsome addition—” I shot him a wink and watched the red creep up his neck. “—and I once ran out of lube after a week’s fishing in the back blocks on my own. Had to use cooking oil.”

Terry threw his head back and laughed hilariously, and I watched him with my own smile running from ear to ear. He looked downright glorious. The most relaxed and natural I’d seen him so far. When he finally calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes, he was able to choke out, “Oh. My. God. I’m still stuck on the fact you even packed lube to go fishing on your own. Who does that?”

I sniffed snootily. “Who doesn’t?”

He laughed again. “Me, that’s who. And I’ll never be able to pack for fishing again without thinking of that gem. Or cook with oil for that matter.”

I tipped a non-existent hat his direction. “You’re welcome. I’m delighted that I can add to your fantasy life as well.”

Terry shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I try. Now it’s your turn.” I waited.

The corner of his mouth twitched nervously, but he held my gaze and didn’t look away. “All right, Mister Sex Therapist—” He eyed me mockingly. “—although I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I do in fact... jerk off. Clearly not as much as you or most guys, likely, but... I do enjoy it. And yes, I fantasise about actual people I’ve found relatively sexually attractive in the past, which is a short list, just so we’re clear. Fantasy isn’t a problem. It’s feeling any physical attraction to new people that takes time to... percolate—” He hesitated, locking eyes. “—well, mostly it takes time.” His mouth quirked up and I quashed the urge to fist-pump the air.

So, he was attracted to me. I tucked that little nugget away for another time.

“Don’t look so smug.” Terry watched me with a smirk. Then his brows crunched like he was thinking hard and that lower lip got another workout. “But, in the spirit of full disclosure, there was one person.”

“One person what?” I puzzled.

“When I said there hadn’t been anyone I felt strongly about, it wasn’t quite true. There was one person.”

Well, shit. A spark of envy ignited somewhere it shouldn’t, and I waited him out.

“But since anything happening between us was a no-go, he never even knew how I felt.” He ran both hands down his thighs. “By the time I realised I had deeper feelings, he was already taken by someone else.”

He? My stomach did a ridiculous flip-flop. “Would you have come out if he’d returned your feelings?”

There was no hesitation before he answered, “Yes. And the only reason I haven’t come out since then is because he’s a friend and I don’t know how to tell him without risking he’ll look back and see the truth.”

Judah. It had to be. The very good friend Terry had mentioned once before. I raised a brow. “Would it be Judah? The dance teacher. Is he the one you fell for?”

The answer was right there in Terry’s startled look. Then he smiled. “Yeah. He’s the reason we’re even down here. Most annoying man on the planet.” There was unmistakable affection in his voice. “Jesus, am I really that transparent?” His eyes blew wide. “Do you think he knows and just isn’t saying anything?”

I ignored the needling jealousy worming its way through my gut because I was a grown man who knew better, right? I didn’t even know Terry, not really. I focused on his question instead, because although I’d picked up on his not-so-straight signals, Terry wasn’t in his comfort zone in the Mackenzie. He was... freer to be who he was.

“Probably not,” I decided. “Especially if they still think you’re straight. I think you let your guard down here, and maybe with me.”

Terry eyeballed me. “Yeah, and exactly why is that do you think?”

I threw my hands up. “Hell, don’t look at me. I asked myself the same thing yesterday. It’s not like I go telling people my life story on a whim, either.”

We stared at each other as the cottage fell silent around us.

Then Terry smiled and the room lit up. “I think we’ve both lost our freaking minds. How does that sound?”

I laughed. “Sounds about right. And you’ve seriously never talked about this stuff with any of your friends?”

That lost look returned to his blue eyes. “No, and considering nearly all of them are gay or bi, I have zero excuse. Ugh—” He held his head in his hands for a second. “—it’s pathetic, I know, but I can’t bear to see that look of pity in his eyes, and I don’t want to risk losing him as a friend. But then I can’t tell my other friends if I haven’t told him. That would be brutally unfair. It’s such a fucking mess.” Terry threw me a mortified look. “And I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“Perhaps precisely because you can’t tell your friends,” I suggested. “Besides, this country has a way of digging into your brain whether you want it or not. Spend any time in the Mackenzie and somehow all those problems you’ve been successfully or unsuccessfully trying to avoid in your life suddenly start tap dancing to the front of your brain.”

He huffed. “And here I thought it was just me.”

“Not even close.” I studied him closely. “You’re just another name on a long list of casualties... including most everyone you’ll meet around these parts.”

He chuckled. “Way to make a guy feel special.”

I was tempted to tell him just how special I thought he might be, but yeah, I figured that would go down like a lead balloon. Instead, I met his gaze with a long silent one of my own that made him fidget in his seat.

“Dammit. What is it about you?” Terry looked at me, shaking his head. “My sexuality and sex life or lack thereof, wasn’t one of the things I was supposed to be working on this week. Then you come along looking all handsome and shit and start flirting with me, and all those buried thoughts and questions rise to the surface again, only this time it doesn’t take months, and I... panic.” He groaned and slid further down in the chair. “See, I told you it was an embarrassing story.”

“Hey, it’s not,” I countered, caught up in those haunting blue eyes that looked so fucking lonely I wanted nothing more than to haul the guy into my lap. Colour me surprised. “There’s no right way to be gay or bi or straight or demi or whatever, and I know you get that. We all travel a different road in discovering what works for us and how to live that truth. And you just said you’re only thirty. Thirty with a fourteen-year-old daughter. Hell, you’ve barely started the journey of who you are. Who knows what it will look like?”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair. “Yeah, maybe.” He reopened one eye. “Exactly how old are you then?”

I chuckled. “Forty-two and starting to feel every single year of it.”

“Pfft.” Terry sat straighter in his chair. “I have a fourteen-year-old kid. That has your forty-two years beat, hands down. It’s gotta make me at least fifty in dad years.”

I laughed and he smiled at me with warm eyes. He really was quite lovely. Quite lovely and lost as hell.

I stood and circled the coffee table so I could perch on it, right in front of him. I slid both hands onto his knees, palms up, and waggled my fingers in invitation.

He looked down and then eyed me sideways. “Really?”

I waggled them again. “Come on.”

His shoulders tensed and that lower lip disappeared again between his teeth. It took a few seconds until he finally caved and slid his hands into mine, and the warm feel of his skin against mine settled something that had been churning in my belly all night. I locked his hands in place, relishing their dry warmth, and squeezed gently.

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself,” I said softly, losing myself in those blue, blue eyes. “Sexuality is complicated and romance is a risky business—” I shot him a wry grin. “—or so I’m told. Not a huge fan of it myself.”

He chuckled and the warm sound filled the room, lightening the mood.

“Maybe we’re more similar than you think,” I proposed. “Neither of us knows shit about romance.”

He arched a brow. “But at least you have a handle on the sex part.”

“A handle, plus the whole cup and saucer and the entire crockery set, if you ask some around these parts,” I added, making him laugh. “Besides, sex isn’t romance, I can tell you that much.”

Terry glanced down to where our hands sat joined on his knees but made no move to free himself. “I guess. But I might be a bit more confident if I’d experimented more.” He paused, shooting me an odd look.

I narrowed my gaze. “What?”

He winced. “Well, you know about my crush on Judah, but I did actually take another guy home... once.”

My ears perked up. “Really?”

Terry chuckled. “You should see your face. I’m not a total loser, you know.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest—ugh.” I lowered my head in shame.

“It’s fine.” Terry dipped his head to look me in the eye. “I’m not offended.”

I looked up again to find a warm smile aimed my way. “It was a few years back. Hannah was staying with a friend and it was clear this other guy I liked was never going to be an option, so I thought, why not?” He hesitated.

“And?” I pressed. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”

He shot me an amused look. “It was a disaster .”

I gave his hands another squeeze. “Well, shit.”

He huffed and ran his thumbs over the back of my hands, raising the hairs all the way up my arms. What was it about this guy?

“It started off okay,” he clarified. “We got back to my place, one thing led to another, and it was all going fine, I suppose. But it was him who called a stop before things got too heated on his part. He said he could tell I wasn’t really into it.”

Damn.

When I didn’t immediately reply, Terry reddened. “See, I told you it was embarrassing.”

“Stop saying that,” I said softly. “I just hope he was kind.”

Terry managed a weak smile. “He was. He didn’t ask for explanations, just cuddled me for a while until I got a call about an emergency in town and then he left.” Terry shot me a troubled look. “Like I said, I’m not a hookup kind of guy.”

“Then casual sex, just to get some experience, was never gonna make you feel more confident, right?” I pointed out. “So, you can quit worrying about it.” It seemed a no-brainer, and I watched Terry roll the idea around in his head.

After a long pause, he said, “I think you’re right.” He looked me in the eye. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, then I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Shit.” His eyes followed mine. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been holding you up. Again.” He tugged to free his hands, but I refused to let him go.

Instead, I got to my feet and pulled him up with me, making sure to keep my eyes on his. “Don’t you dare apologise for spending time with me, Terry O’Connor. I haven’t spent a more enjoyable hour with another person in a long time, except for maybe yesterday when I was with—” I paused and smiled. “Oh, that was with you too, wasn’t it? Well look at that.”

He smiled shyly and shook his head. “You’re an idiot. But thank you. And ditto. I’ve really enjoyed your company too. It’s a shame I’ve only got a week here.”

I raised a brow. “Or?”

Terry flushed. “ Or we could’ve done it again. Talk, I mean.”

I grinned. “Maybe we still can. I’m back here tomorrow to check the station dogs and look at one of Holden’s bulls. I could come to the cottage and we could have lunch together?”

His nervous gaze tracked my face, the beginnings of a frown creasing his forehead.

“Or not?” I walked it back. “I don’t want to intrude.”

He studied me for a second, glanced down to where our hands were still joined, and sighed. “Can I think about it? There’s a lot going on and I... well, I don’t know if I should... if you and I... if more of this is good for me right now?”

I squeezed his hands, trying not to let my disappointment show. “Of course. I totally get it. Can I maybe text you?”

That brought a smile. “Yes. I’d like that.” Then he surprised me by keeping hold of one hand as he led me to the front door, opened it, then turned to face me. “Drive safely. And thank you again.”

I stared down into his blue eyes, my feet refusing to move. “Maybe take time to have some fun today. Step outside your comfort zone. Take a risk. Find something to make you smile. Don’t make being in this place all about heavy thinking and being an awesome dad. You’ve got that nailed already from what I can see, and you deserve to enjoy your time here as well. Have you swum in the lake yet?”

His eyes bugged and he turned to scan the cold water. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Not really.” I stepped closer, putting our shoulders together, and nudged him with my elbow. “I was in there myself last week. Nothing like low-level hypothermia to wake you up to what’s important in life.”

Terry laughed and nudged me back. “I’m not sure I want that kind of enlightenment cos then I might have to do something about it. But I’ll dip a toe in and let you know.”

He spun back around and almost ran into me; we were standing that close. His gaze instantly shot up to mine, then dipped to my mouth. He lifted a finger and traced the line of my lips, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest. Next thing I knew he went up on his toes and pressed his lips to mine, soft, warm, tentative and questioning, and so fucking good.

I leaned in to take the kiss deeper, but he stepped away, his face on fire, eyes darting anxiously over my face. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

“Shhh.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “What did I say about not apologising for spending time with me? Now can we do that again?”

Terry’s teeth nabbed his lower lip but I released it with my finger.

“Yes? No?” I pressed.

The pulse in his neck throbbed and I caught another drift of that tantalising body wash and slightly floral cologne. I leaned a little closer and ran my nose up the side of Terry’s face, hearing his sharp intake of breath.

“You smell so damn good.” I pulled back to look at him again, my thumb tracing the contour of his lips, his tongue darting out to catch the tip as it passed, sending a jolt of electricity to my balls. “What’s it going to be?” I whispered, rubbing my nose against his.

He leaned in and put his lips next to my ear. “Yes.”

Exhilaration rushed through my body, and I leaned back so I could watch his face as we kissed. Then slowly, slowly I lowered my mouth to his, knowing this would change everything. Our lips touched, and as I sank into the pillowy softness, a fierce desire powered through my body, the strength of it taking me by surprise. I wanted this quiet, worried, gentle man in a way I didn’t understand. In a way that frightened me. In a way I couldn’t control.

I crowded Terry back against the cottage door, his mouth warm and tender, pliant, and so fucking inviting, I wanted nothing more than to bury my tongue inside as deep and fast as I could. A growl rumbled up my throat as I fought the urge, and Terry answered with a soft needy groan of his own that sent a shiver of excitement up my spine.

He melted against me, and I slid my arms around his waist, fusing our bodies together. He fisted the front of my jersey, his dick firming against my thigh, mine already thick on his belly, and just like that, my control began to slip. It was a rabbit hole I figured neither of us was ready for—which was news to my dick—and I pulled my lips from his and rested our foreheads together as I caught my breath.

“Well, damn,” I breathed the words against his lips. “Aren’t you just the best kind of surprise?”

He was equally short of breath but chuckled and let go of my jersey, smoothing it flat over my chest. “I’m not so sure that was a good decision.”

I leaned back and tipped his chin up, offering him an understanding smile that I didn’t quite feel. “Well, you just let me know when you decide, because I’d be down for a bit more of that if you’re interested.”

He stepped back, putting some distance between us, and took a deep breath. “Let’s stick with texting me to start.”

I grinned and cupped his cheek. “Sounds good.”

“Hey, Spencer.”

I instantly dropped my hand from Terry’s face like the thing was on fire and spun to find Gil strolling toward us down the homestead lawn with a willow basket swinging from his hand.

“I saw your truck parked, but I thought you weren’t due in the shed until tomorrow?” Gil said as he neared the cottage.

I turned to check on Terry who was, thankfully, partially hidden from view inside the house. I shot him a wink and then made my way over to Gil with Terry following at a discreet distance.

“Good morning, Terry. I’ve been in the garden and thought I’d drop off some fresh provisions.” Gil held the basket aloft, looking between us with a smirk on his lips and a million questions jumping in his eyes. “I hope you slept well.”

I almost rolled my eyes at my friend.

“Yes, I did, thank you,” Terry answered smoothly, surprising me with his easy manner for a guy who’d just been kissed to within an inch of his life. “Those beds are excellent, by the way.”

“Good to know.” Gil continued to look bemused as he refocused his attention on me. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of our esteemed vet’s company this bright and early on a Tuesday morning?” Crafty little fucker.

I was about to spin him some line, but Terry beat me to it. “Spencer kindly dropped by to return my windbreaker. I’d left it in the clinic yesterday.”

“Really?” Gil studied me with a wolfish grin. “How kind of you.”

That time I did roll my eyes. “That’s me all over. Kind to a fault.”

Gil’s shrewd gaze held mine a moment longer and I almost groaned. The man was truly annoying and far too clever for his own good. Finally, his attention shifted back to Terry. “Yes, we heard all about your knight-in-shining-armour trick. Saving the world one puppy at a time, right?”

Terry flushed adorably. “Oh, I don’t know about that. And man, I thought the gossip mill in Painted Bay was fast, but that’s pretty impressive.”

Gil laughed. “Sonya’s mother makes that rhubarb jam I stock in the guest cottages. She dropped off a fresh supply last evening, along with all the latest news. Holden and I are honoured you chose such a majestic name for your pup.”

“Oh boy.” Terry’s gaze bounced between us, his cheeks reddening further, if that was possible. “Now I feel kind of silly. And also, he’s not my pup.”

Gil’s eyes danced wickedly. “Yet. Not your pup yet. And don’t feel silly. It’s a cool name. We approve.”

“Thanks, but he is definitely not my pup.” Terry shook his head. “Our house is crazy enough as it is.”

“Don’t pay him any mind, Terry.” I stared daggers at Gil. “The dipshit is just yanking your chain. He doesn’t get out much. We find it best to ignore him.”

Gil shoved me sideways. “Arsehole.”

Terry chuckled. “You know, this place gets more like home every day.”

Gil snorted, but a closer look at Terry told me the man was starting to fret. It was time to go.

“Right.” I clapped my hands. “I need to be on my way or I’ll be late to Hawthorne’s.”

“Hawthorne’s?” Gil perked up at the name. “Excellent. While you’re there, tell Helen I owe her for that salted caramel sauce recipe. It cooked up a treat. I popped a jar in here for you,” he told Terry, indicating the basket before looking back to me. “Can you wait a minute while I grab a couple more jars for you to give Helen, and I’ll throw in one for you.”

“Sure thing,” I answered, sounding as excited as I felt. “I’m never gonna say no to your cooking, mate.”

“Thanks. Won’t be a minute.” He headed back up the lawn at a run, which left Terry and me smiling at each other.

“Do you think he’s suspicious?” Terry asked, glancing back toward the homestead.

I snorted. “That man was born suspicious, but I don’t think he saw anything.”

Terry nodded. “That’s good.”

The comment stung a little even if he was right. “Well, I’ll be off then.” I glanced toward my ute. “Text you later?”

“Please. And I’ll see you off.” Terry fell in alongside, our arms jostling as we walked toward the ute.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, closed the door, and lowered the window. With the homestead on the other side, we were mostly hidden from view. I touched my fingers to his jaw, and he put his hand over top, holding them in place. “Don’t forget to have some fun,” I reminded him.

He smiled and turned his head to kiss my palm. “You’re very sweet.”

I groaned. “Please keep that to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold.”

He chuckled, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Goodbye, Doctor Thompson.” Then he stepped away from the ute and demurely folded his arms just as Gil returned at a jog, carrying a small cardboard box.

“Now don’t forget to keep one for yourself.” Gil slid the box onto the floor in front of the passenger seat. “And wish Connor good luck from us for his exams.”

“Will do, and thanks.” I started the ute and headed south along the drive away from the homestead, watching Terry in my rear-vision mirror all the way until the dust blocked my view.

I sighed and shook my head, wondering what the hell mess I was getting myself into, because there was no denying Terry O’Connor was going to be a problem for my heart. I’d never felt this ridiculous about another person. And in two fucking days. What the hell? And why? What was it about this guy? Forty-two years old and for the first time in my life I thought I might be falling for someone. Falling for someone who was in town for all of a hot minute, lived fifteen hundred kilometres away, had a complicated-as-shit life, which should terrify me but for some reason didn’t, and at a time when I was supposed to be headed for a new job and new life in Adelaide.

Fuck me . I shoved my arm out the window and flipped the universe the bird. “You think you’re so damn funny, don’t you?”