She grinned and had a swallow of wine before continuing with the curry. ‘So tell me how you went today with your meeting. Did you come to a decision?’
‘We did. We decided to continue with the deal.’
For some reason, this eased her angst about the entire issue, as though by agreeing to go ahead with it in some way vindicated her own past. Perhaps it too was surmountable. ‘And you’re happy about that?’
‘I think it’s what is best for our business.’
‘Then good. I’m happy for you.’
Sam smiled, and she could see from the way his eyes brightened that he was genuinely happy too. Obviously, all had been forgiven.
Ellie cooked the spices in ghee as per her mother’s instructions, then poured it into the lamb, stirring it around before adding some coconut milk. She popped the lid on the pot and wrapped the naan in aluminium foil before popping them into the oven to warm.
‘You look like you’ve got it all under control.’
She grinned. ‘I feel like I do. Not so hard after all. Did you want to put some music on?’
‘Sure.’
She pointed to the lounge. ‘My dock is on the TV unit. Choose whatever you like, I’m not picky.’
Ellie lifted the lid and stirred the lamb. It was a lush, dark yellow, exactly like she remembered her mother’s being. She leaned over the pot and breathed in the smell. It didn’t quite smell the same, though. Not unpleasant, just different.
Hard-core death metal blasted from the speakers. Ellie jumped. Her heart shook in time to the fast, distorted guitar.
‘Okay, maybe I am picky,’ she yelled.
A laugh roared from in the living room.
She rolled her eyes and grinned, getting back to the task at hand.
When Sam came back in a soft rock song was playing, much more to her taste. ‘I think this is ready to dish up. You hungry?’
He nodded. ‘Very.’
‘Good. Because there’s plenty. If you want to carry that wine there to the dining table, along with our glasses, I’ll ‘plate up’ as the fancy chefs say.’
Sam chuckled. ‘Definitely getting the hang of this cooking gig.’
Within moments, Ellie had ladled curry and rice onto the plates and brought them to the table.
Sam looked at his plate, then met her gaze as she sat beside him. ‘Looks great.’
‘Thank you.’
Sam grabbed his spoon and took a mouthful, chewing before slowly swallowing. Ellie watched for a reaction—any reaction. But he didn’t give any. Was he enjoying it or not? She grabbed her wine, swirled it in her glass, then sipped.
Sam spooned another mouthful in and chewed. Ellie waited, aching for some validation. Needy much, Ellie?
But nothing still, neither praise nor complaint.
Sam ventured in for another spoonful of curry. Ellie watched from the corner of her eye for a reaction. Were Sam’s eyes watering?
She looked a little closer, trying not to be too obvious, of course.
But then a retching noise sounded from Sam’s throat as his body jerked.
Ellie’s looked full at him now, eyes wide. Her mouth fell open. ‘Um, did you just dry-retch?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Yes. Maybe.’ He swallowed his mouthful, but the wince on his face made it look like he was swallowing a ball of glass rather than delicious food.
She peered at the curry on her plate, took her spoon and shovelled in a bite. The combination of burnt, bitter spices and an overpowering sourness blasted her tastebuds. She impolitely grabbed a napkin and spit the mouthful into it.
The curry was disgusting. Not just a little, but overwhelmingly so. Inedible. How the hell had Sam managed to swallow three bites of it already?
‘Oh my god,’ she said, eyes still wide like an owl’s. ‘Do not eat any more. That is the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted.’
Sam’s shoulders sagged with relief. He blew out a long breath. ‘Oh thank god you agree.’
‘I don’t know how you managed to eat any at all.’
‘I was trying to be polite. You said it was your mum’s recipe. I couldn’t very well spit it back out on the plate.’
‘This tastes nothing like Mum’s curry.’
Sam eyed the plate of food with obvious disdain. ‘I should hope not.’
Ellie smiled. ‘Is that what you wanted to do? Spit it out?’
He shrugged, a slight grin on his lips. ‘Maybe a little.’
Ellie burst into embarrassed laughter. Her cheeks were no doubt bright red. ‘I am so sorry. I am seriously mortified. Your face, though. You did so well to hide—’ Ellie rolled her head back and laughed and laughed, the image of Sam’s face, then his horror when he dry-retched.
Sam’s shoulders shook, then he dissolved into laughter with her. Neither of them could speak, could only point at the curry, then they’d be set off again, their chuckles loud in the small space.
Ellie laughed until her belly hurt and tears rolled down her cheeks. Not that the situation was uproariously funny, but that it was both funny and horrifying at the same time, and laughter was the best relief.
She wiped the wetness from her cheeks with a napkin and, in time, managed to calm down. Sam’s eyes were bright with humour, a huge grin on his face. He was ridiculously sexy when he laughed.
‘Chinese takeaway?’ she asked with a giggle.
‘Sounds good.’
‘Dish number thirty-seven and twenty-four come highly recommended.’
Sam laughed again, loud and clear. ‘Perfect.’
After a trip to the local Chinese restaurant, they parked in front of the television with the containers of honey chicken, beef chow mien and fried rice spread across the coffee table. All formality was gone now.
Ellie pressed play on the movie, Man of Steel.
‘Starring Amy Adams,’ she said, dishing fried rice onto her plate. ‘I love her.’
‘Yeah, she’s a great actor.’
‘And any woman who gets to kiss Henry Cavill is a hero in my eyes.’
Sam laughed. ‘You like that big, muscled look?’
Ellie ran her eyes over the man mountain beside her. ‘Um … obviously.’
Again he chuckled.
‘Now, please, if this is disgusting, you are in no way obligated, nor allowed, to keep eating it out of politeness.’
‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘And you are in no way obligated, nor allowed, to cook dodgy curry for me again.’
Ellie burst into laughter as the images of that horribly hilarious memory sparked in her mind. ‘Also, please let’s not bring it up again, nor tell anyone else about it.’
Sam squeezed his lips together. ‘Not sure I can keep my word with that.’
She arched a brow. ‘Oh, really.’
‘Yeah, that one is going to come out over a few beers with my brothers. They will bloody love it.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Just make sure I’m not there when you bring it up.’
‘Deal.’
They ate their meal, which was tasty and fresh, the opposite of what she had served up earlier. Bellies full, Ellie turned down the lights and crawled in beside Sam on the lounge, snuggling against him, head on his chest as they watched the movie.
But they didn’t come close to finishing the movie, too much heat sparked between them when they were so close. His presence was enormous beside her, overwhelming.
His heart beat solidly in his chest so that she felt and heard it against her ear.
Then when his strong arms wrapped around her, blanketing her in his heat, her body responded. First as little tugging pangs deep in her belly, then as tingling in the tips of her breasts, and not long before the sensations arrowed lower between her thighs as a deep ache.
When he rolled onto his side and she rolled onto hers and they faced each other, there was no stopping the kissing, the hands groping, sliding and caressing, the breaths intermingling.
Desperate to feel as much flesh against flesh as possible, they feverishly u
nclothed one another. She wanted him inside her, filling her with himself, with his lust, with his desire.
This urge to be as one with him not just physically, but spiritually, took a hold of her and didn’t cease until they’d come as close as was humanly possible to achieving that.
Afterwards, as they lay on the couch, bodies entangled with one another, Sam kissed her, they talked, kissed some more, well into the night until their eyes were sharp with the need for sleep.
When Ellie could no longer keep her eyes open, she climbed up from the couch, took Sam’s hand and led him to her room.
Chapter 24
Sam loved his career; always had. But when the alternative to spending the day in bed with Ellie was meeting with the vineyard’s accountant to run through end-of-financial-year management reports and next-year budgets, he loathed it.
As he sat in the boardroom with last year’s figures projected onto the wall, he did his best to concentrate, but his mind kept wandering to Ellie. When she wasn’t near him, he was cold. When he thought of her, he was hot. Every moment he anticipated seeing her again, he was pining. He was like a love-sick fool.
Had he ever felt like this about a woman before?
Every night this week he had either stayed at Ellie’s house or she slept at his. Thankfully, she didn’t attempt to cook again. After curry-gate, he’d rather not go there again.
But, honestly, curry-gate or not, he had never been bared-teeth-grinning-like-an-idiot happy.
He was never like this with Tamara. That relationship was a dangerous infatuation. He was too young back then, too inexperienced, to understand how holistically blissful it was to be finding love.
Love? Did I really just think that? Is that what this is?
‘Hey, dipshit, you even listening?’ came Tom’s booming voice, along with a pencil hitting Sam’s chest.
Sam shook his head. ‘Of course.’
‘Bullshit,’ Mitch said, then glanced at Tom with a wide grin. ‘He’s like a fucking teenager.’
Sam wasn’t going to deny it because that’s exactly how he felt.
‘He’s got himself a girlfriend, finally,’ Tom said to the accountant, Simon.
‘Taking up a bit of head space by the looks of it,’ Simon said.
Sam shrugged. ‘Can we just get back to the figures?’
His brothers and Simon laughed.
‘We’re doing our job, it’s you, mate, who was off with the fairies,’ Mitch said.
‘Off with Ellie more like it,’ Tom said with a teasing tone.
‘Whatever.’ Sam pointed to the projector. ‘Get back to it.’
Despite the need to use all his mental power to concentrate for the next few hours, he was exhilarated when the meeting ended. Yes, because he was nearer to seeing Ellie, but also because the forecasts Simon had prepared for the next twelve months to five years predicted enormous growth.
The new venture didn’t bare any great risks—they didn’t have to increase production or be at the mercy of the weather, they had only been required to be patient.
Of course it may be a complete flop and the units sold could be minimal, but aside from labelling, packaging and distribution costs, all the other expenses—the money, blood, sweat, and tears, from his father as well as himself and his brothers—had already been accounted for.
‘Hey, Sam, wait up,’ Mitch called after him as he strode past the admin building towards his car. Sam stopped, sunk his hands into his pockets, and waited for his brother to catch up. The cold air was like an angry dog nipping at his bare skin.
‘What’s up?’
Mitch grinned. ‘Good figures Simon showed there, hey?’
Sam nodded. ‘Bloody brilliant.’
Mitch looked out to the car park, then back at Sam. His expression was humble. ‘Thanks for taking the time to clear the John and Julia scandal. If you hadn’t done that …’
Sam shrugged. ‘No worries.’
‘And I apologise again for not believing your side of the story.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
Mitch gave Sam a brotherly slap on the back, as close to a hug as they were going to get. ‘So what are you up to for lunch?’
‘Thought I’d pick up some soup and drop in to see Ellie.’
Mitch’s grin was broad. ‘Ok. Meet us back here at two, and we’ll finalise the label and boxing designs. Then we’ll brief IT and sales about promotions. I also want to start tidying up before the film crew get here next week.’
Sam had forgotten about that side of the deal. In the Spirit was launching a television series where they visited the vineyards and wineries that produced the vintages they stocked. The Mathews Family Vineyard would be showcased in the inaugural show.
The vineyard, over the years, had a few tv programs film on site, so this was nothing new. But it was still exciting and a good excuse for an extra-thorough spring clean. Or winter clean in this case.
Ellie was serving a customer when Sam arrived at In Bloom. She smiled and winked as he pushed through the front door. He winked back, offered his best cheeky grin, but was otherwise unobtrusive as he strode past, out to the back room to wait.
He listened to her as she worked. Something about the way she did her job was awe inspiring. Perhaps it reminded him of how his father, and now Mitch, was with grapes, intuition leading the fore.
Sure there was talent that came from years of learning every aspect of the craft, but intuition was the main component of their skill.
Sam looked on as she wrapped a gorgeous bunch of roses in every shade of pink in deep magenta paper and tied it off with twine. The look on the man’s face, wide-eyed, wide-mouthed delight, when she handed over the bunch mirrored the sensation working through Sam’s body.
As a lover of flowers himself, raising them from seed or bulb to maturity, he had a healthy respect for what Ellie did, trimming and wrapping and beautifully pairing many varieties.
Times like these he wanted to get back into his glasshouse and start again, but something still held him back. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
‘Hello,’ Ellie said with a huge grin as she stuck her head into the backroom.
She was truly beautiful and seeing her smile with such abandon for him filled him with a tingling warmth.
‘Hi. Thought I’d stop by for lunch.’
Her hand went to her stomach. ‘Oh, thank god, I’m starving. I’ve not had a chance to take a break yet. Today has been hectic. So many deliveries. It’s the week for new births, engagements and funerals. Poor Janine will be out there for hours.’
‘Wait until Valentine’s Day,’ Sam said, grabbing a chair and joining her at the front counter, bag of soup in his hand.
‘I looooooove Valentine’s Day. I can’t wait. I wish your glasshouse was still operational. You could grow me something no-one else has …’
He could feel his chagrin pulling at his lips as he smiled apologetically.
She must have sensed his inner-turmoil because she waved her hand. ‘Never mind. I’ve got the Cupid cupcakes from next door. Amy has got herself a roaring trade there because my Cupid Flower and Cupcake deal is by far the most popular.’
Sam took a seat. ‘She’s done really well. We couldn’t be happier. Mitch couldn’t be happier to see his late-wife’s legacy blossom as it has.’
Ellie sat down too, her forehead furrowing. ‘Wife’s legacy?’
‘You don’t know the story behind the shop?’
She shook her head.
Sam pulled out two containers of fresh lamb, chorizo and vegetable soup from the packet and handed one to her, along with a spoon and napkin. ‘The shop was opened by Mitch’s wife Rachel.’
Ellie’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
He nodded. ‘She was renowned for her matchmaking skills. She is who set Amy and Tom up.’
‘Wow!’ Ellie said resting her palm over her heart. ‘I didn’t know this. Amy hasn’t mentioned anything.’
‘It’s a bitterswe
et story really. A tough one to tell. Rachel and Amy were best friends, long before Rachel married Mitch. Before she died, she asked Amy to run her store for her. So Amy did and managed to keep it going even after Rachel passed away. Since then though, the town started talking about the Cupid qualities the cupcakes have. And Amy believed—probably still believes—that it was Rachel behind the phenomenon.’
‘Oh my gosh. How amazing.’
‘It really is. Though Mitch didn’t see it that way at first. But now, we can all see how wonderful it is for the shop to be continuing so strongly.’
Ellie’s eyes glossed, but she quickly blinked. ‘That’s beautiful. How strong Amy must be to do that after her best friend died.’
‘She’s a strong woman, that’s for sure.’
Ellie leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘It all means so much more now that I know that. Thank you for telling me.’
He smiled, lowered his gaze bashfully.
Ellie dipped her spoon into her soup and had a mouthful. ‘This is incredible soup.’
‘I know. Best soup in Alpine Ridge. Our restaurant chef makes it every winter.’
‘You can bring me this anytime you want. So much better than curry.’
He laughed. ‘I have to agree with you there.’
Ellie looked at him out the corner of her eyes, a slight smirk on her face. ‘So you’re no longer scared if I eat the Cupid cupcakes? Or dream about dandelions?’
Sam groaned as he shook his head. ‘Not at all. Eat your fill now, I say.’
‘Nice to hear you’ve had a change of heart.’
He smiled, feeling his neck and cheeks growing hot, which never happened. ‘Definitely a change of heart.’
Ellie peered into his eyes; he couldn’t look away. ‘I love hearing you say that.’
His heart jumped in his chest when she said the word ‘love’. He thought she was going to say something different, or that perhaps she had intuited his own ponderings on the subject.
Either way, hearing that word spoken from her lips produced a visceral reaction he hadn’t anticipated.
She got to her feet and placed a hand tenderly on his cheek. Her gaze holding his, she leaned forward until her lips met his for a long breath.
The Sweetest Secret Page 20