Читать книгу The One Winter Collection - Rebecca Winters - Страница 14
ОглавлениеLIZZIE LEANED BACK from the last of the artworks they’d rewrapped to send back to the artist, kneading with fisted hands the small of her back where it ached. ‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘All done, thank goodness. That was harder work than I’d thought it would be.’
‘But worth it,’ said Jesse from beside her.
‘Absolutely worth it. The paintings add to the atmosphere of the café like nothing else could. I hope the artists come in so I can thank them with a coffee.’
But Lizzie felt exhausted. Not just from the effort of unpacking, holding the paintings up against the wall and then repacking the unwanted pictures. But from the strain of working alongside Jesse.
In theory, learning to be ‘just friends’ with him should have been easy. He was personable, smart, and seemed determined to put their history behind them. Gentlemanly, too—in spite of his shoulder injury he insisted on doing any heavy lifting.
Trouble was, she found it impossible to relax around him. She had to consider every word before she uttered it, which made her sound stilted and awkward. The odd uncharacteristic nervous giggle kept bubbling into her conversation.
Could you ever be just friends with a man you’d kissed, wanted, cried over? Especially when that man was so heart-stoppingly attractive. Could you pretend that time together had never happened?
She would have to try.
If it were up to her, she would choose never to see Jesse Morgan again. Even though they’d cleared up the misunderstanding about his cousin, it was hard to be around someone she’d fancied, kissed, liked...when nothing would—or could—ever happen between them. But with the family situation being the way it was, she had to make a real effort to nurture a friendship with him—be pals, buddies, good mates. Future family occasions could be incredibly awkward if she didn’t.
Right now, Jesse stood beside her as they both surveyed the arrangement of paintings on the wall. He was not so close that their shoulders were in danger of nudging but close enough so she was aware of his scent, an intoxicating blend of spicy sandalwood and fresh male sweat. It was too close. Being anywhere within touching distance of Jesse Morgan was too close. Memories of how wonderful it had felt to be in his arms were resurfacing.
She leaned forward to straighten the small painting of the manta rays and used the movement to edge away, hoping he didn’t notice.
‘They look good,’ Jesse said. ‘You chose well.’
She thought about a friend-type thing to say. ‘To be fair, we both made the final selection.’
‘You exercised your power of veto more often than not.’
‘Is that another way of saying I’m a control freak?’ she said without thinking at all.
‘I didn’t say that,’ he said, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. ‘But...’
If he was a real friend, she would have punched him lightly on the arm for that and laughed. She wished it could be that way. But there would be no casual jesting and certainly no touching with Jesse. It was too much of a risk.
Instead she made a show of sighing. ‘The success or failure of Bay Bites rests on my shoulders and I’m only too aware of that.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘You do have help. Sandy. Ben. The staff she’s hired for you. Me.’
She turned to face him. ‘You?’
‘I can work with you for two hours a day.’
‘Two hours?’ That seemed an arbitrary amount of time to allocate. Maybe it was all he could manage with his shoulder. But she couldn’t help wondering what other commitments Jesse had in Dolphin Bay. And if they were of the female kind.
He nodded. ‘Whatever help you need, I’m there for two hours every day.’
That was the trouble with denying attraction when that attraction was an ever-present tension, underlying every word, every glance. The air seemed thick with words better left unspoken. At a different time, in a different life, she could think of some exciting ways to spend two hours alone with Jesse Morgan in her bedroom. But not now.
She cleared her throat. Think neutral, friend-type chat. ‘I appreciate the help with the paintings. Though I’m the one who will be looking at them all day and—call me a control freak—but I really couldn’t say yes to the one of the bronze whaler sharks, no matter how skilfully it was done.’
He’d argued hard for the sharks and he continued to argue. ‘Sharks are part of the ocean. As a surfer I learned to respect them. They’re magnificent creatures. That painting captured them perfectly.’
She shuddered. ‘They’re predators. And I don’t like predators. Also, remember people will be eating in this place. They don’t want to look up and see pictures of creatures that might eat them.’
Jesse grinned, his perfect teeth white against his tan, those blue, blue eyes glinting with good humour. A woman could forget all caution and common sense to win a smile like that.
Again she found herself wishing things could be different, that they could take up from where they’d left off out on that balcony. She had to suppress a sigh at the memory of how exciting his kisses had been.
‘Good point,’ he said. ‘But I still think there are too many wussy pictures of flowers.’
‘So we agree to disagree,’ she said with an upward tilt of her chin.
‘Wussy versus brave?’ he challenged, still with that grin hovering on his so-sexy mouth.
‘If by brave you mean you want to swim with the sharks, then go for it. I’ll stick with dolphins, thanks.’
‘I’ve always liked a challenge,’ he said.
The challenge of the chase? Was that what he meant? Lizzie really didn’t want to know. Or to think too much about how it would feel to be caught up again in Jesse’s arms. She’d just steer clear of him as much as she could. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him not to overstep the boundaries of a new friendship—it was herself she didn’t trust.
‘I do love the painting of the dolphins surfing,’ she said. ‘If I could afford the price tag, I’d buy it myself.’
He sobered. ‘You’ll have to make sure you don’t get too attached to any of the paintings. You want to sell as many as you can. It’s an added revenue stream for the café.’
‘You’re right. I’ll just get heartbroken when that particular one goes.’
‘Just think of the commission on the sale,’ he said. ‘The quicker the café gets in the black, the better it will be for all concerned.’
She was surprised at how hard-headed and businesslike he sounded. But of course Jesse would be used to not getting attached to pretty things. And that was when she had to bite down on any smart remarks. Not if they were going to try to be friends.
‘Thanks again for your help,’ she said. ‘I’d offer you some lunch but, as you can see, I’m not set up for food just yet.’
‘I hear you’re still finalising the menu. I’m looking forward to being an official food taster on Saturday.’
Lizzie stared. ‘You’re coming to the taste test?’
‘Sandy rounded up all the family to help you try out the recipes.’
‘Oh,’ she said, disconcerted. If she’d thought she’d only be seeing Jesse occasionally during his time back home in Dolphin Bay, she was obviously mistaken. Talking herself out of her attraction to him was going to get even more difficult.
‘When it comes to taste-testing good food, I’m your man,’ he said.
She remembered the game they’d had such fun playing together at the wedding, predicting the favourite foods of the guests. He’d been such good company she’d forgotten all the worries that plagued her that night. Good company and something more that had had her aching for him to kiss her out on that balcony.
‘Let me guess,’ she said, resting her chin on her hand, making a play of thinking hard. ‘The other volunteers will have to fight you for the slow-roasted lamb with beetroot relish. And maybe the caramelised apple pie with vanilla bean ice cream?’
He folded his arms in front of his chest. ‘I’m not going to tell you if you’re right or wrong about what I like. You’ll have to wait for the taste night to see.’
‘Tease,’ she said.
‘You don’t like being made to wait, do you?’ he said, that slow smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.
‘There are some things that are worth waiting for,’ she said, unable to resist a slow smile of her own in return.
For a long moment her eyes met his until she dropped her gaze. She had to stop this. It would be only too easy to flirt with Jesse, to fall back into his arms and that way could lead to disaster. She had to keep their conversations purely on a business level.
She glanced through the connecting doorway and into the bookshop. Sandy was due to see her at any time and there was only a small moment of opportunity left with Jesse.
She lowered her voice. ‘Can I ask you something in confidence?’
His dark brows rose. ‘Sure. Ask away.’
‘I’m concerned about the food I’ve got to work with.’
‘Concerned?’
‘It...it might not be up to scratch.’
He frowned. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. Aren’t the food supplies being ordered through the Hotel Harbourside restaurant? Ben’s hotel is one of the best places to eat in town.’
Ben had built the modern hotel on the site of the old guest house. Alongside, he’d built a row of shops, including Bay Books and Bay Bites.
She winced at Jesse’s understandably defensive tone. But who else could she ask? ‘That’s the problem. I have to tread carefully. But I have to be blunt. The Harbourside is good pub grub. Nothing more. Nothing less. And it’s not up to the standard I want. Not for Bay Bites.’
* * *
Lizzie did tend to be blunt. Jesse had noticed that six months ago. Personally, he appreciated her straightforward manner. But not everyone in Dolphin Bay would. No way could the café succeed if Lizzie was going to look down her straight, narrow little nose at the locals. Could she really fit in here?
‘But isn’t it just a café?’ he said.
‘Just a café? How can you say that?’ Her voice rose with indignation. ‘Because it’s a café doesn’t mean it can’t serve the best food I can possibly offer. Whether I’m cooking in a high-end restaurant or a café, my food will be the best.’ She gave a proud toss to her head that he doubted she even realised she’d made.
There was a passion and an energy to her that he couldn’t help but admire. But he also feared for her. Small country towns could be brutal on newcomers they thought were too big for their boots.
‘You’re not in France now, Lizzie.’
‘More small town wisdom for me?’ Her half-smile took the snarkiness out of the comment.
‘Some advice—you don’t want to make things too fancy. Not a good idea around here to give the impression you think everything is better in France. Or in Sydney.’
Her response was somewhere between a laugh and a snort. ‘You seriously think I’m going to transplant fancy French dining to a south coast café and expect it to work? I might have lived in France for years, but I’m still an Aussie girl and I think I’ve got a good idea of what my customers will like.’
He knew she had a reputation as a talented chef who had established her credentials at a very young age—he wasn’t sure she had the business sense to go with them.
‘And that would be?’ he asked.
‘The very best ingredients served simply.’ She gave another toss of her head that sent her blonde plait swishing across her back. ‘That’s what I learned in France. Not necessarily at the fine-dining establishments in Paris but in the cafés and markets of Lyon and from the home cooking of Amy’s French grandparents. You know they say the heart of France is Paris, but its stomach is Lyon?’
‘I didn’t know that.’ He’d raced through a see-Europe-in-two-weeks type backpacker tour when he was a student that had included Paris and Versailles but that was as far as his knowledge of the country went. ‘My journeys have mainly been of the have-disaster-will-travel type. And the food...well, you wouldn’t want to know about the food.’
‘Of course,’ she said, nodding. ‘I remember now you told me about some of the out-of-the-way places you’ve been sent to.’
She’d seemed so genuinely interested in the work he was doing to rebuild communities. Not once had she voiced concern that he had veered off the career track to big bucks and business success. Other girls had been more vocal. He hadn’t seen the need to explain to them that he’d been fortunate in the land he’d inherited from his grandparents and the investments he’d made. He could afford to work for a charity for as long as it suited him and not have to justify it to anyone.
Though that might be about to change. The Houston company wanted his expertise and their offer came with a salary that had stunned him with the amount of zeroes.
‘So what’s your problem with ordering through the hotel?’ he asked.
‘Their suppliers will be fine for the basics and the hotel gives us better buying power. It’s the organic and artisan produce I worked with in Sydney I need to source. Farm to plate stuff. I don’t know where to get it here.’
‘Farm to plate? That sounds expensive. Do you really want expensive for the café?’ He looked around at the fresh white décor, the round tables and bentwood chairs, the way the layout had been designed for customers to wander in from the bookshop. It said casual and relaxed to him.
‘Actually, farm to plate can be less expensive because you cut out the middle man.’
‘That’s a point,’ he said.
‘I know ridiculously high prices would be the kiss of death to a café serving breakfast and lunch,’ she said with that combative tilt to her chin that was starting to get familiar in an endearing kind of way.
‘It’s good we agree on that one,’ he said.
‘But if Bay Bites is to succeed it has to be so much better than the existing cafés around here. What would you prefer—a cheap burger made with a mass-produced beef patty or pay a dollar or two extra for free-range, hand-ground beef? Frozen fries or hand cut fries with home-made mayo?’
‘That’s a no-brainer,’ he said, his stomach becoming aware it was lunchtime and rumbling at the thought of the burger. Though the slow-roasted lamb might give it some competition. ‘So you are talking café food, not fancy-schmantzy stuff?’
‘Of course I am,’ she said, not hiding her exasperation. ‘I know people will expect the basics.’
‘Egg and bacon roll?’ he said hopefully.
‘The best you’ve ever tasted. But there will be some more creative options too, depending on seasonal ingredients. And wonderful desserts every day, of course. We’ll do morning and afternoon tea as well as breakfast and lunch.’
‘You mentioned apple pie?’ The longing crept into his voice, in spite of himself.
She nodded with a knowing smile. He’d given himself away. There was no dessert he liked better than apple pie. She’d guessed right again.
‘What I’m asking you is how I source that produce without offending Sandy and Ben,’ she said.
‘How long is it since you’ve spent any time in Dolphin Bay?’
‘There was the wedding. And I drove down to see the building when Sandy first approached me about the café.’
‘So basically your memories of the food here are based on when you were sixteen?’ Back when there’d been a fish and chip shop, a short-lived pizza place and the best food in town had been from his mother’s kitchen.
‘Well, yes.’
‘Better get yourself up to date. This area has become somewhat of a foodie haven.’
‘Dolphin Bay?’ Disbelief underscored her words.
‘Maybe not the actual town,’ he conceded. ‘But certainly the areas surrounding it. Didn’t you look into that when you did your business plan?’
She pulled a face that made him want to smile but she was so serious he kept his expression neutral.
‘Sandy and Ben did the business plan,’ she said. ‘And they’re dead certain there’s a market for a bookshop café with a harbour view. But I had to finish a work contract in Sydney and didn’t have time to do as much research into the local area as I would have liked.’
‘If you had, you would have found one of the well-known television chefs opened a restaurant in the next town and others have followed. Every time I come home on leave, there seem to be more restaurants.’
Her fine eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘That’s good. Hopefully the rising tide will float all our boats. But where are they sourcing the artisan produce? And how do I get it without offending my sister?’
Did he want to get this involved with this woman, helping her beyond what he’d agreed to with Sandy when he’d volunteered to give a hand while he was on leave? He knew the answer before he’d even finished asking himself the question.
He’d promised Sandy to do his best to make the café succeed. If that meant getting Lizzie what she wanted, he didn’t have a choice. And it had nothing to do with how lovely she was, he told himself. Or how intriguing he found her.
‘Ben and I grew up with people who have established organic farms and orchards in the area, if that’s what you’re looking for. And the seafood comes fresh from our own father’s boats.’
‘Really?’ Her cool grey eyes lit up. ‘Sandy told me about the seafood. But I didn’t know about the organic farms.’
He tilted back on his boot heels again and stuck his thumbs in his belt. ‘I suspect all you need is here if you know where to look for it.’
‘Trouble is, I don’t.’ She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him and smiled very sweetly.
Jesse suppressed a groan. He knew what was coming. ‘You’re going to ask me to introduce you to those places, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am.’ Again he was struck by how a smile brought such light to her face. She’d been so warm and vivacious at the wedding that he’d found it hard to leave her side for even a minute.
‘Okaaay...’ He drew out the word in mock reluctance. ‘I guess I can do that for you.’
It wouldn’t be a hardship to show her around, if he kept his distance from anything too personal. Trying to be friends—that was all. It would also be a chance to catch up with people he hadn’t seen for ages. His job meant he’d lost touch with more friends from the area than he’d like.
‘Does that count in your daily two hours of rationed help?’ she asked.
His immediate impulse was to say of course not. But then he thought twice.
On meeting Lizzie again, he’d thought he’d only be able to endure two hours of her chilly, stand-offish company. Now the Lizzie he’d first fallen for was starting to reveal herself. Warm. Funny. With a touch of snark that challenged him. He didn’t want his initial attraction to her to be reignited. That meant seeing as little of her as possible. Now that two-hour limit would be not because he didn’t like her—rather because he didn’t want to get to like her too much.
Lizzie could never be a casual encounter. An it’s been nice but I don’t want to get serious type of thing. No. Anything with Lizzie would be serious with a capital S. She was a mother with a child, making the relationship equation two-plus-one, rather than the one-plus-one he was used to. She was also his brother’s sister-in-law. If they started something and it broke up, the repercussions would be endless.
There were many reasons to steer clear—not least that he saw in her the same kind of spirited, challenging personality that had drawn him to Camilla with such disastrous results. His life was on track with the prospect of a new start in America. He didn’t want any awkward emotional confrontations to derail him if he again fell for the wrong woman.
Six months ago he’d been very taken with Lizzie, had seen the possibility of something more than a casual hook-up at a wedding. Looking back, he could see he’d been raw from his recent encounter with Camilla. Lovely Lizzie’s laughter and passionate kisses had been affirmation of his appeal as a man, balm to his shattered heart and bruised ego. But her inexplicable cold treatment of him had plunged him back into his resolve to stay clear of women with the power to wound him.
Now this job offer had further strengthened his resolve to avoid anything remotely connected to commitment to a woman. He needed to remain unencumbered if he were to move up to this new stage in his career. The CEO of the Houston company had pretty much spelled out it was a job for a single man—travelling, lots of overtime and weekend work.
That two-hour restriction on time with Lizzie would stay—he couldn’t let himself get to like her too much. He genuinely wanted to try and become friends, though. After all, she’d be part of his life for as long as her sister was married to his brother and that looked likely to be for ever. Two hours a day was more than enough to develop the kind of superficial friendship that didn’t make any demands on him—or, in fact, on her. He couldn’t deny his attraction to Lizzie—but he could stop himself from acting on it.
‘Yes, two hours is all I can spare,’ he said. ‘None of the farms we’ll be going to is far from here.’
He could tell she was perplexed by the time restriction but he had no intention of explaining it to her.
‘Okay,’ she said. Starting tomorrow, please. I don’t have time to waste.’
* * *
Lizzie was grateful that Jesse was able to help her with her dilemma. She was about to tell him so when Sandy swept into the shop, all exclamations of delight at how the café was shaping up.
Lizzie silently implored Jesse with her eyes to please not say anything of their conversation about the supplies. Thankfully, he indicated with a slight incline of his head that he would keep her confidence. Not in a million years would she want to cause offence to Sandy or Ben. At the same time, she had to have the best for the café.
Brown-haired, hazel-eyed Sandy swept her into a big hug and she squeezed her sister back hard. The wonderful thing about being in Dolphin Bay was it meant more time with her.
‘I am so glad you got here okay,’ Sandy said. She then looked to Jesse. ‘I’m still pinching myself that I got a chef of my sister’s calibre to run Bay Bites for us. Aren’t we fortunate?’
‘We’re very lucky,’ he agreed.
Sandy hugged Jesse, too, and it gave Lizzie pleasure to see the depth of affection between her sister and her brother-in-law.
She and Sandy had both been so emotionally damaged by their controlling cheater of a father that for a while it had looked as if neither of them would find happiness with a man. But Sandy was now blissfully married to Ben and had been lovingly welcomed into the close-knit Morgan family.
One out of two sisters sorted with a happy-ever-after wasn’t bad, Lizzie thought. Philippe had done such a good job of destroying any trust she’d had left in men she doubted there’d ever be a second chance of happiness for her. And certainly not if she kept getting attracted to gorgeous love-’em-and-leave-’em guys like Jesse. She didn’t regret kissing him at the wedding. Could never forget how wonderful her time with him had been. But it would never happen again.
‘I’m so glad to be here,’ she said to Sandy. ‘It’s the new start I need.’
‘I see you two have reacquainted yourselves,’ Sandy said, waving to Jesse.
With an emphasis on acquaintance Lizzie wanted to say, but knew it would come out sounding ill-mannered.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, avoiding Jesse’s gaze. He just nodded.
Lizzie did not fail to detect the speculation in her sister’s eyes as Sandy looked from her to Jesse and back again.
Guess she’d better get used to seeing that look in other people’s eyes, too, when they saw her and Jesse together—until it became obvious the incident at the wedding was all there ever was going to be between them.
Sandy spun around to the wall behind her. ‘The paintings look amazing the way you’ve hung them.’
‘I have to give credit where credit is due,’ said Lizzie, indicating Jesse with a sweep of her hand. ‘He put them all up.’
‘The boss is the one who chose them,’ said Jesse.
‘The boss?’ asked Lizzie.
‘That’s you,’ he said. ‘I jump to your command.’ His words were light-hearted but his already deep voice dropped an octave or two as he spoke.
She had to disguise her gasp of awareness with a cough. Oh, she could think of lots of commands she could give to beautiful Jesse, alone and behind closed doors. But not when they were ‘just friends’. Not when he was her sister’s brother-in-law. Not when he was a man who had a reputation for toying with women’s hearts.
She was spared making any kind of smart reply by Jesse himself. He glanced at his watch. ‘I didn’t realise it was that late. Gotta go.’
‘Your two hours are up?’ she said, still intrigued by the limit he had given her on his time.
‘What two hours?’ asked Sandy.
‘Something to do with his shoulder,’ said Lizzie.
‘Yeah, my shoulder, that’s it,’ said Jesse gruffly. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow,’ he said to Lizzie. ‘Bye, Sandy.’
Lizzie watched in silent admiration as Jesse strode out of Bay Bites with a masculine loping grace. His back view really was something to see. Broad shoulders tapered to a tight behind. Worn denim jeans hugged muscular legs. And those tanned brown arms rippled with muscle. If he were any other gorgeous guy than Jesse Morgan she’d want to give him a wolf whistle. ‘No!’ said her sister, once Jesse was out of earshot.
‘What do you mean “no”?’
‘I saw the way you were looking at Jesse.’
‘And you weren’t too?’
‘Of course I wasn’t,’ Sandy said primly. ‘He’s my brother-in-law.’
‘And that doesn’t stop you appreciating what a finely crafted specimen of masculinity he is?’
‘Of course it does,’ Sandy said. ‘I’m a married woman.’ But then the giggles she was suppressing pealed out. ‘I wouldn’t be female if I didn’t appreciate how hot Jesse is. And he’s a nice guy too. But he’s a commitment-phobe of the first order.’
‘I know, I know. If you told me once you told me a million times.’
‘And at the wedding you totally ignored my warnings.’
‘That was different. Cut me a break, Sandy. I was lonely. Starved for male company. Heck, starved for adult company outside of a commercial kitchen. And Jesse was...was irresistible.’
Lizzie swallowed hard against a hitch in her voice when she remembered the magic of those hours with Jesse. It hadn’t been just physical—for her, anyway. At the wedding she’d seen a spark of ‘what might have been’ if circumstances had been different.
‘I love Jesse to pieces. But I don’t want to see you hurt.’ Sandy paused. ‘Or, for that matter, see Jesse hurt.’
‘What do you mean, “see Jesse hurt”?’
‘Were you serious about him at the wedding? Or was he just a fling before you got back to the reality of being a single mum?’
‘Of course I wasn’t serious—how could I be with all those warnings echoing in my head?’ Though there had been moments when she’d been guilty of daydreaming of something more. ‘Jesse was fun. A diversion. He made me laugh at a time when I didn’t have a whole lot to laugh about.’
‘That’s what I mean. We’d be angry if a guy toyed with a pretty woman just for a diversion. Why would it be different for a woman with a handsome guy?’
‘You can’t be serious. I wasn’t toying with Jesse. It’s not the same thing at all.’
‘Isn’t it? Seems to me there’s a lot more to Jesse than he lets on. Sometimes I think it might be a disadvantage to be as good-looking as he is. Does he ever wonder if women flock to him because of how he looks or because of who he is?’
‘It’s not something I’ve thought about,’ Lizzie said.
‘People think women are throwing themselves at him all the time and he wouldn’t care if someone dumped him like you did. He was gutted when you went home without another word to him, though he tried to hide it.’
‘R-really?’ was all Lizzie could manage to stutter. Could that be true?She’d only thought of her own hurt feelings. ‘There...there was a misunderstanding. But we’ve sorted that out. It’s been six months. I...I’m sure there’ve been other women for him in the meantime.’
It was ridiculous, but her heart twisted painfully at the thought of Jesse with someone else. Even now, when she’d put him strictly off-limits.
She’d been stabbed by a sharp and unexpected shard of jealousy when she’d rushed back to the wedding reception to find Jesse with the woman she now knew was his cousin. Her jealousy had been disproportionate to the incident, she knew; after all, she’d had no claim on him. Seeing him laughing with the lovely woman had brought its own brand of pain but had also ripped the scab off buried memories of Philippe’s behaviour. Never, never could she allow herself to fall for a man like that again.
‘Jesse hasn’t mentioned any girls,’ said Sandy slowly.
‘Would he tell you?’
Sandy shook her head. ‘I guess not. He seems to live by the code “a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell”.’
‘That’s a good point in his favour. But there’s no need for you to worry about me and Jesse. We’ve agreed we’re going to try and be friends as we’re connected by family, but that’s all.’ No-strings fun. That was how he’d described it and it wouldn’t happen again.
‘Good,’ said Sandy with rather too much emphasis. ‘Please keep it that way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Jesse is so not for you.’
Lizzie felt stung by Sandy’s assumption. ‘I know that. I’ve figured it out all by myself. I don’t need my big sister to tell me,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I am not interested in Jesse as anything other than...than an acquaintance. Someone I have to try to be friends with because you’re married to his brother.’ She would keep telling herself that.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Sandy with an air of relief that Lizzie found more than a tad insulting.
‘By the way,’ she said, ‘thanks for not telling me Jesse would be here when I arrived in Dolphin Bay.’
Sandy looked shamefaced. ‘Yeah. That. I didn’t know he was going to injure his shoulder and land home here, did I? He’s staying in the converted boathouse where we lived before we built the big house.’
‘You could have warned me.’
‘I was worried you’d get yourself wound up at the thought of seeing him. I didn’t want you worrying about it. You’ve got enough on your plate.’
They’d always looked after each other and her sister’s advice was well meant. ‘Oh, Sandy, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve no intention of letting any guy get to me again.’
‘After all you went through with Philippe, you know I can’t help but worry about you. When I think of how you were in Sydney all by yourself having the baby while he—’
Lizzie put up her hand to stop her sister’s flow of words. She didn’t want to even think about that time, let alone talk about it. ‘I’m older and wiser now. And much, much tougher.’
‘Maybe I was wrong not to warn you about Jesse being home in Dolphin Bay.’
‘No. You were right. It did give me a shock to see him here. Then to find out I’ll be working with him every day...’ Maybe if she’d known, she’d have found a way to put off the opening of the café until Jesse had gone.
‘Don’t knock back any offers of help—even if you don’t particularly want to spend time with Jesse,’ said Sandy. ‘It’s a big ask to get this café open for business in seven days. Besides, he’s only here for a few weeks.’
‘Four, to be precise,’ Lizzie said. ‘But don’t worry, Sandy. I’ve got very good at resisting temptation. Jesse Morgan is no danger to my heart, I can assure you. I promise I’ll make an effort to get along with him for your sake.’
