Meet Me in the Middle (Wattle Valley, #2)

by Jacquie Underdown

  But it was the way every slow slide of his hand, warm lick of his tongue, long gaze into her eyes, was done with such attentive tenderness—almost like reverence—that undid her.

  She had never been on the receiving end of anything like this.

  As his mouth fell upon that warm place between her legs and he brought her to the edge, he backed away, left her panting, only to quench her need by pushing his cock deep inside of her. As he filled her up, again and again, his big strong arms holding most of his weight as he balanced above her, she met his demands.

  Her hands drifted across his back, caressed the strength of his shoulders, gripped his arse and pulled her harder to him. They kissed and kissed until her breathing was too heavy to taste him anymore.

  He cradled her face with his big hands and looked deeply into her eyes. Those hazel eyes burned into hers, whispering so much. And instead of feeling used or hurried, she was elevated, wanted, cared for.

  Her vulnerability slipped away. With Anders’ strong and protective body hot and heavy on her, he had led her willingly to that soft place inside her heart, and she opened it for the briefest of moments, allowing him not only inside of her body but also her heart. And it felt so wonderful to be joined to someone wholeheartedly.

  The pleasure built like a storm. She was falling over the edge right alongside Anders, and she exploded into a billion blissful pieces of ecstasy.

  As she lay in his arms afterwards, running her fingers up and down his hard chest, she tried to close off her heart again, put the walls back up, because she would end up falling for him and then where would she be when it all came crashing down?

  One thing she had learnt in her short years on Earth was those she loved had so much power to hurt her.

  Once upon a time, she was so naive. So sheltered from the truths of life. She never considered that anything terrible could happen to her, let alone again and again. First Mum and then Joshua, all within the space of a couple of short but incredibly difficult years.

  To willingly be vulnerable was something she wasn’t ready for—not for long lengths of time anyway. This moment with Anders was a slight slip. She couldn’t do that again.

  He kissed the top of her head. ‘Let me make you dinner.’

  She sat up, covering her breasts with the sheet. ‘I’d really love to, but I probably better get home. I told Jager I was trying out a Zumba class. He might get worried if I’m late.’

  Anders frowned but nodded. He knew the rules—no-strings-attached. And so did she, yet she had let him strum the strings of her heart tonight.

  She kissed his lips. ‘Let me know when you’re free next.’

  He rubbed a hand down her shoulder and looked up at her, his face serious and sombre, but he nodded. ‘Sure.’

  She raced around, dressing back into her clothes, blew him a kiss, and left.

  Out in the cold night, she dragged in lungfuls of air, trying to still her racing heart. What had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter 22

  Mum had asked Anders to head around for dinner Thursday night. An unusual request mid-week, especially on a training night, but she said it was important.

  When he arrived at the farmhouse after training and went inside, he could already smell the tell-tale scents of a roast. ‘Mmmm, something smells good,’ he said, marching up to the kitchen.

  Mum was stirring gravy in a big tray at the stove. Tony was sitting at the table.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, kissing Mum on the cheek.

  ‘Hi, son, glad you could make it.’

  ‘No worries.’ He turned to Tony. ‘How are you feeling? Arthritis still playing up?’

  ‘I’m not a hundred per cent.’

  ‘Geez, that’s no good.’

  Not long after, big servings of roast chicken and vegetables were dished onto plates and they sat around the table to eat.

  ‘Thanks for having me around, Mum, this is so good,’ he said pointing his fork at the mounds of food on his plate. After a long day of exercise, he wasn’t about to say no to a good meal.

  She smiled, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘Our pleasure.’

  He sat up taller, looked from Mum to Tony and back to Mum. ‘Is something going on?’

  Mum glanced at Tony and Tony gave a small nod. After a deep breath in, Mum said, ‘We have a proposal for you.’

  His heart thudded hard against his ribs. ‘Um, okay.’

  ‘Now, I don’t want an answer right now. I want you to take a couple of days, at least, to give this some consideration.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Tony and I want to retire. It’s time.’

  His heart sank to his stomach, but he did his best to stay upright.

  ‘We would love more than anything to keep this farm in the family. As you know, your grandfather cleared the paddocks here, built the road into this place and started this dairy from scratch.’

  ‘I know,’ he said and found his voice was weak and scratchy. A sense of impending doom descended over his mind.

  ‘We want to pass the dairy on to you. All of it. We’d be honoured to pass it down to family. The farmhouse, the equipment, the stock, the business. Everything. You’d just have to cover stamp duty to transfer the title and all we want is to take over one of the old worker’s cottages to live in.’

  He opened his mouth to protest, but she held her hand up.

  ‘It’s my farm, handed down to me by my father in exactly the same way. You could have a real life here, Anders. The business is strong. Yes, there are hiccups, but all life, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, has hiccups. There’d still be an opportunity to train and play club football. And when you have children, you’d be able to coach them if you wanted. So you wouldn’t have to give up AFL altogether.’

  His heart was racing. This was too real. Too much. The look on his mum’s face, the seriousness, the pleading eyes, needled into his heart. ‘Why now? You are both still young.’

  Mum squeezed her lips together, looked away for the time of a breath. ‘It feels like the right time.’

  ‘For you too, Tony?’

  Tony nodded. ‘Yeah, mate. We’re not getting any younger. These past few weeks—’ he slowly splayed his fingers then fisted them again, ‘—it’s been painful. We can’t do this for much longer.’

  Anders blew out a long breath. This was all so sudden. ‘What happens if I say no?’

  Mum shrugged. ‘That’s a very real option. You get to choose this, okay. I’m not going to force it on you.’

  ‘Yes, but what if I say no?’ he repeated.

  ‘We sell up,’ Tony said.

  Mum wasn’t looking at him, just focusing on her plate as she pushed a piece of chicken around with her fork.

  ‘Take your time and give it due consideration,’ Tony said.

  Anders coughed, trying to ease the tension in his throat. ‘I will give it thought.’

  ‘Good. We’d appreciate that,’ Tony said.

  Mum nodded and forced a tight smile. ‘Now that that’s out the way, everyone eat or this is going to get cold.’

  Despite his ravenous disposition a few minutes ago, he had to force himself to finish what was left on his plate.

  Their proposition wasn’t mentioned again for the rest of the night, though it sat in the background of everything, and Anders felt it in his guts like a hard stone.

  Anders spent the entire trip home in his head, navigating on auto-drive. In a way, he resented having to make this decision. Until now, the obligation had always remained unspoken yet glaringly present.

  He always knew there would come a time when he would be not only asked but expected to take over; he just never knew it would be so soon.

  He loved his job, loved being part of such a great family-oriented sporting community. It saw him meeting people all around the region that he otherwise wouldn’t get to mingle with if he were stuck out on the farm day in day out. He earnt a decent living from it—enough to be managing the repayments on his
house and car.

  His chest grew tight again—the dissonance of not knowing what to do. Did he follow his heart in the direction of his current passion and continue doing what he loved to do?

  But that meant he would have to stand by and watch his parents as they sold the farm off to some investor who would never understand the sentimentality of that place.

  Or did he follow his heart back to the farm, honour his parents, and recognise what that place did to change his life—bring him calm and work ethic and responsibility?

  He had to talk this through with someone or his head was going to explode. He needed the mind of someone who wasn’t inside this confusion with him, but rather had an eagle’s view.

  His first thought was Neve, but he wasn’t ready to tell her about this. No, he needed someone who knew him inside and out and wouldn’t be afraid to tell the truth.

  He asked his car assistant to dial Jager’s number.

  Jager answered after a few rings. ‘Hey, mate. What’s up?’

  ‘Ah, hi.’

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Not really. I know it’s getting late, but do you feel like meeting me at the pub for a couple of beers?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll see you there.’

  Anders arrived at the pub on Main Street, headed to the bar for two bottles of beer, then found a seat. For Thursday night, there weren’t too many people here. A few nods in his direction from residents who knew him, which he returned with as convincing a smile as he could manage.

  It wasn’t long until Jager strode through the doors, wearing a worried expression, and spotted Anders at a tall table.

  He pulled up a stool across from him and Anders slid his beer along the table.

  Jager caught it. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘What’s the matter? Did something happen?’

  He took a long swallow of his beer and sighed. ‘Mum and Tony asked me to take over the farm.’

  Jager’s eyes widened. ‘From when? Now?’

  Anders nodded. ‘They want to retire. They’re going to give me the lot.’

  ‘And I take it you don’t want a bar of it?’

  Anders rubbed a hand over his cheek. ‘My first reaction is to say no. And then I think about how generous an offer it is and how long the farm’s been in the family and I feel like I have to.’

  ‘Have to, but don’t really want to?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know. Fuck! I don’t know. What do you think?’

  Jager shrugged. ‘Mate, I’m not sure I can tell you what to do here. I know that’s not much help, but it has to be your decision. I know what I’d do. I’m a farm manager, and I love my job. If I had a relative come along and offer me a fully functioning dairy, I’d jump, both feet, without a second thought. But you’re not me. And I know you love your AFL work. And I know you’re good at that. But I also know you enjoy keeping your hand in once a month at the farm too.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s such a tough industry. Doesn’t leave a lot of downtime.’

  ‘It is. Not gonna lie about that. A lot of ups and downs. And, yeah, the hours are long.’ Jager rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. ‘You worried about what this new girlfriend’s going to think?’

  Anders lowered his brow, confused. Did he know about Neve? And then he remembered that Jager still thought he was seeing the single mum. ‘No, that fizzled out.’

  Jager frowned. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  He shook his head, waved Jager’s concern away. ‘It wasn’t anything serious.’

  Jager looked at him for a long while with an assessing gaze.

  ‘What?’

  He had a sip from his beer bottle. ‘I’ve never known you to go after a woman you weren’t serious about. So it’s strange to hear you talk like that.’

  Anders wanted to groan, sick and tired of these lies, but he kept his face impartial. ‘Full of surprises, I guess.’ He swallowed a mouthful of beer and lowered the bottle to the table, twisting it from side to side. ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Take some time. I’m sure you’re not expected to give an answer immediately. You’ll work out what’s right for you. Because at the end of the day, it’s your life, your future—so you have to do what’s best for you. A decision you’re not going to resent or regret.’

  ‘But you think I should take over the farm?’

  ‘I’m not saying that at all. I would. In a heartbeat. But you’re not me. Think it over tomorrow when you’re fresh. Work out which decision you’re going to be able to live with.’

  Anders inclined his face to the ceiling, closed his eyes for a long moment. ‘What decision I’ll be able to live with.’ Anders knew what that was—the farm. He hated to disappoint people he cared about, especially his mum and Tony. To say no to them and watch them sell the farm would kill him on the inside. Guilt he didn’t want to live with.

  And yet, would he wake up in ten years’ time and resent his parents for making him choose a life he didn’t think was right for him?

  ‘Fuck,’ he hissed.

  Jager gave a sympathetic chuckle. ‘Yeah, mate. It’s a tough one.’

  Chapter 23

  Neve piled all her make-up cases into the back seat of her car and sunk into the driver’s seat. A text from Anders was waiting on her phone.

  ANDERS: How was your workshop?

  She smiled.

  NEVE: Loads of fun.

  ANDERS: Glad to hear it. Feel like winding down at my place tonight? But you have to stay for dinner, at least. There are limits to just how no-strings I can go. Running away straight after sex may have been it.

  It still twisted her insides the way she had raced out on him, but, like always, with her growing emotions came growing fear. Fear she was deeply embarrassed by because it was the antithesis to the woman she used to be.

  What a flaw to have in this world to be afraid to love.

  NEVE: I’ll stay for dinner.

  ANDERS: Good. I really hope you know how to cook. ;)

  NEVE: Very funny!

  ANDERS: Don’t worry, I’m capable of throwing something together. I’ll see you when you get here.

  She stopped by her house first for a shower and a change of clothes.

  A little after seven that evening, she arrived at Anders’ place. He met her at the side door with a smile, but there was something in the background of his expression, a sadder emotion she couldn’t decipher.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked, reaching onto her tiptoes to kiss his lips.

  ‘I’m good. You?’

  ‘Great.’ She laughed. ‘This is the most formal I think we’ve ever been.’

  ‘The least handsy.’

  The smile drifted from her mouth as she watched him, the slight downward curl of his lips. ‘You sure everything’s okay? I mean, I’m your friend after all. If something is up, you can talk to me.’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ he said, coming closer and cradling her face between those big hands of his. His mouth reached hers and he kissed her with teasing tenderness. ‘I have wanted to do that for three long days,’ he whispered when their eyes met again.

  ‘Me too.’ So much.

  ‘You hungry yet?’ he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

  ‘Starving.’ She would have happily forgone dinner and had him instead, but it was getting late and the scent of something richly delicious wafted through the house.

  ‘Good,’ he said.

  She followed him to the kitchen where a big pot was heating on the stove top. The red, bubbling sauce on top hinted at bolognese.

  ‘Spaghetti?’ she asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘My mum made the best spaghetti bolognese.’

  He arched a brow. ‘So I’ve got high standards to meet?’

  ‘You definitely do.’

  ‘I think you’ll like it.’ A palm ran over his stomach. ‘I’m going to dish up because I’m seriously bloody hungry. I
can never get enough food into me.’

  ‘I wish I had that problem.’

  His bold gaze travelled up the length of her. ‘Believe me, you have no problem at all.’

  Her cheeks flushed.

  ‘Where do you want to eat?’

  ‘I’ve been on my feet for three days’ straight, so let’s take it into the living room and relax, hey?’ she suggested.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

  He dished up two big bowls and poured a glass of red wine each. They took a seat side by side on the comfortable lounge.

  ‘Jager said he was meeting you for a beer last night. He wasn’t home by the time I’d gone to bed, so I couldn’t secretly ask him all about you.’

  Anders chuckled. ‘Just some quiet drinks. Felt like I hadn’t been spending any time with him outside of football.’

  ‘I got the impression that something might have been wrong?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nope.’

  She smiled. ‘Good.’

  ‘Eat up,’ he said and shovelled a huge spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth.

  She did the same before moaning. ‘This is so good.’

  His grin was a little smug. ‘Good to hear.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have pinned you as a good cook. I thought I was going to have to try and lie through my teeth about how great this was.’

  ‘What can I say? I’m a surprise package.’

  You’re definitely that.

  ‘So tell me about these lessons you give.’

  She giggled because she was certain he was prompting her to talk so he could heap more food down his throat. ‘I developed the program myself and asked that I run it at TAFEs in the local area. I try to do the course once a year at each of the six TAFEs in the region.’

  ‘And you get a lot of students?’

  She nodded. ‘My class this week had eighteen. Mostly young mums and school leavers. Everyone really wants to be there and learn, and I get to make some spare cash.’

  He looked at her over a forkful of spaghetti. ‘You’re really dedicated, aren’t you?’