The Maxwell Sisters

by Loretta Hill

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he responded unrepentantly. ‘Happy to speed up your process for you.’

  She groaned.

  ‘Besides,’ he murmured, ‘this will give us a chance to talk.’

  ‘About what?’ she demanded nervously.

  ‘Breakfast,’ he grinned. ‘We kind of never set a date.’

  ‘That’s because it’s not happening.’ She kept her eyes on the task. ‘I can’t risk being caught in that kitchen.’

  He sighed, for once losing that teasing note in his voice. ‘I don’t get it. Why does this mean so much to you?’

  ‘I told you,’ she replied harshly, ‘if my family catch me in there they’ll just put a lot of pressure on me to return and I can’t handle that. They are already re-opening the restaurant for one night because of the wedding. I don’t want to get their hopes up.’

  ‘Eve, you’re a fabulous cook. Why do you think I want you to make me breakfast?’

  ‘Because you like annoying me.’

  He grinned. ‘Yes, I do. But have you considered,’ he stopped harvesting to study her thoughtfully, ‘that maybe someone should be putting pressure on you to return to the restaurant?’

  She glanced at him in horror. ‘That’s not your concern.’ She turned back to the vine, snipping at a couple of stalks rather roughly.

  ‘Okay.’ He grabbed her wrist to steady her jerky movements. ‘There’s no need to get narky.’ Her skin tingled as he released her. ‘Why can’t you return?’

  ‘That restaurant was my dream since I was a little girl,’ she whispered. ‘And I stuffed it up.’

  He folded his arms. ‘So now you’re just giving up? Running away from all you ever wanted?’

  She smirked at him. ‘Isn’t that what you did when you left the Barossa?’

  He clicked his tongue. ‘Touché. But I can’t have back what I lost, Eve. I had no choice but to start again somewhere new. You can still have your dream.’

  ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  His voice sounded so matter of fact, so clinical, that the only desire she had was to wipe that self-assurance from his expression – show him how little he really knew. As a result, she spoke before she had the wisdom to express herself less passionately.

  ‘Because I wasn’t good enough. It was all Spider’s talent that kept the restaurant open, not mine. When he lost interest, so did our customers.’

  ‘That’s bollocks. The truth is, when you found out he had no interest in you, that’s when it all went to shit.’

  She shrugged. ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘A very big one, I imagine,’ he nodded. ‘You didn’t fail at running a restaurant because you were incompetent, Eve,’ he said shrewdly. ‘You failed because you were nursing a broken heart. I hardly think the same thing is going to happen again. Unless you still have feelings for him.’

  She blanched. ‘You don’t understand, we were such a great team. I relied on him for everything.’

  Her words seemed to have made little or no impact on him. ‘So get a new system.’

  ‘I don’t trust myself. I don’t believe in my own judgement any more,’ she blurted.

  ‘Because you fell in love with the wrong man.’

  ‘Maybe that’s a part of it,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s also because of the fire. It was my fault.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘It was!’

  ‘What?’ He spread his hands as though he were open to her argument. ‘You lit a match and dropped it on the floor?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You threw a mini-grenade inside when no one was looking?’

  ‘No.’

  He scratched his head. ‘Then I’m not really following here.’

  ‘I was distracted and preoccupied and I left the candles burning that night. They eventually set it alight. If Eric hadn’t left work late and noticed what was going on, the fire brigade never would have made it on time before the entire place burnt to the ground.’

  ‘So you made a mistake?’

  ‘Pretty big bloody mistake,’ she threw at him. ‘I could have taken Mum’s garden out too or our family home. I could have destroyed everything. The vineyard, the winery …’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He nodded, holding up his hand for her to slow down. ‘I get the picture now. You think you need to be punished.’

  ‘You don’t get anything,’ she muttered, focusing her gaze on the ground and kicking irritably at one particularly chunky piece of gravel. The truth was, he was hitting far too close to home and she didn’t like it.

  ‘Life’s not that much of a bitch, Eve,’ he said softly. ‘You gotta let it go. Cut yourself some slack. If you’re not ready to cook in the restaurant again, fine. But you’ve gotta lighten up a bit. I meant what I said before when I suggested I teach you how to have some fun.’

  ‘And I meant what I said when I responded “no thanks”,’ she retorted, dropping the last bunch of grapes into the bucket.

  She walked off towards his ute then, leaving him to pick up her heavy bucket and bring it over. Cheekily, she hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition, calling, ‘Hurry up.’

  In the side-view mirror, she watched him approach the vehicle, carrying her harvested grapes. He lifted the bucket onto his shoulder as he walked and she bit her lip at this highly arousing image. The muscles strained against his shirt. He was all man. All brawn and brass-necked presumption. How dare he ask about her personal affairs?

  How dare he make judgements about the way she handled things!

  Lighten up. Teach me how to have fun. I’ll teach him how to have fun!

  When he brought her bucket up to the side of the ute, she inched the car forward just beyond his reach. Frowning, he quickly corrected the gap and made as though to tip the bucket but she rolled forward again so he couldn’t.

  He glanced up towards the passenger door and she looked mischievously back at him via the side-view mirror.

  ‘Eve! Are you doing that on purpose?’

  ‘Doing what?’ she called.

  He lifted the bucket and she moved the ute forward again. He ran after it this time, managing to tip about half in as he jogged.

  ‘You little rat!’

  ‘Having fun yet, Adonis?’ she asked, leaning out the window, gazing at him with eyes as wide as a baby’s.

  His mouth twisted, as though he were trying not to laugh. ‘Eve, I appreciate that you’re trying to get back at me, but this is a serious business. I don’t want to accidentally throw our produce on the ground.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said apologetically. ‘Won’t happen again.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He lifted the bucket up a fourth time and approached the vehicle. Just as he was about to tip it, she inched forward again.

  ‘Sorry, foot slipped that time,’ she called.

  He paused to glare at her. ‘Eve.’

  ‘Okay, okay. This time I got it.’ She waved at him with a hand out the window for him to step forward. He did so, slowly lifting the bin to tip this time.

  And, at the last second, she jerked the car forward, choking in laughter as she did so. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t help it.’

  She heard a crash as he dropped the bucket behind the ute but continued laughing, unable to stop her glee at having got the better of her nemesis. A face appeared beside her open passenger window and he reached in and turned off the engine.

  ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’

  She was still laughing when he opened the door and pulled her from the vehicle straight into his arms.

  ‘I want you to know,’ he growled, ‘that you fully asked for this.’

  And then he kissed her.

  It was a kiss of dominance and of fire. And a host of other things she could not name, having no more than about two brain cells to put together in that moment. He smelled of sweat and sun and man, and he felt like every fantasy she’d ever had all rolled
into one. He was hard and contoured, rough but gentle – too big and unwieldy to kiss her with any sort of practised finesse. It was more raw need on both their parts. They twisted into each other. Moulding their bodies and lips together, fusing them like two pieces of dough.

  His mouth ravished hers, pulling at her lips. Her hat fell off, hitting the dust as his hands roved into her curls, down her back, curving under her bum and lifting her more securely into contact with his hard male form.

  She gasped as he tore his mouth free and gazed down at her with such a startled expression on his face, for a moment she actually believed he was as shocked as she was. ‘I was not expecting that.’

  They heard the spitting of dirt and a horn tooted them as another ute rolled up.

  Adonis immediately released her and they spun around, a deep flush washing over his otherwise perfect features.

  It was Heath behind the wheel and luckily no one else with him.

  He grinned at them. ‘Consorting with the boss’s daughter, Adam? Are you sure that’s wise?’

  ‘No,’ Adonis admitted, much to her disappointment and vexation. ‘What can I do you for?’

  ‘Can I have your empty bins? The crop is much heavier on the top end of this block and we need some more up there.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ Adonis transferred a stack of empties including Eve’s bin off the back of his ute tray and put it onto Heath’s.

  ‘Hey, Heath.’ Eve quickly walked up to the vehicle also. ‘How about I take these up to the top end and you help Adonis with loading the hopper.’ She glanced back at the winemaker. ‘I think you’d be better at it.’

  Heath grinned in some amusement. ‘What did you call him?’

  ‘Huh?’ Eve blinked. ‘I didn’t call him anything.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Adonis swatted his hand. ‘She does that sometimes.’

  ‘I do?’ Eve said, startled. ‘I mean, no I don’t.’

  ‘O-kay.’ Heath grinned as he stepped out of his vehicle, leaving the door open for Eve to hop inside. She did so in short order – glad to have such a conveniently placed escape route.

  There was too much turmoil churning around inside her to stay and have to understand what had just happened between her and the Greek God of winemaking. In the wake of Adonis’s kiss, she had discovered that she was no longer in love with Spider. And while that should have given her some comfort, it came with none of the relief she yearned for. Because the truth of the matter was, she was now in a bigger mess than she had been in a week ago.

  Chapter 25

  In the end, the crop they harvested was massive and everyone was required to help after lunch with extracting the juice. Spider didn’t mind. There was nothing like manual labour to burn off his frustration with Phoebe and the rest of her family.

  The task was a three-step process. Firstly, they loaded the grapes into the hopper, which fed a crusher and de-stemming machine. Then they transferred the produce to a machine known as the press – a steel cylindrical unit on its side, porous with holes like a grater. This squeezed all the juice out of the grapes and dropped the skins (or marc) out the bottom after all the juice was extracted. The liquid was then pumped into stainless steel fermentation tanks, or barrels, where it would remain for at least five weeks. It was very important to get the juice out of the grapes as quickly as possible after harvest so that the grapes didn’t spoil in the tubs in the heat of the day.

  Everyone at the winery was involved and staff from the cellar door also left their posts to assist. Even John Maxwell dropped by to lend a hand and give Adam a few pointers, which he did generously enough. Spider watched them enviously. How was it that this other man had gained John’s approval so easily? Why could he banter with John like an old friend of ten years when John had known Spider longer? He knew John blamed him for the fire but that was over a year ago now. Couldn’t they move on?

  Maybe he just needed to be natural. Instead of trying so hard to find something John was interested in, he should talk to his strengths and play it cool. He walked up to the pair.

  ‘Great crop, guys. Always loved your chardonnay, John.’

  John grunted. ‘It’s Adam’s this year.’

  Spider flicked his eyes briefly at his grinning competitor and tried again. ‘Chardonnay goes so well with pasta. Eve and I used to recommend yours with our signature gnocchi. Slow roasted tomatoes, goats cheese, basil leaves in a tangy salty sauce. Did you ever try that dish of ours?’

  ‘No, as a matter of fact I didn’t.’ John’s eyes became hooded.

  Spider blinked. ‘I can’t think why not. It was one of the bestsellers in our restaurant.’

  ‘I’m allergic to tomatoes,’ John said shortly and walked off, leaving his nerves bristling.

  A chuckle sounded beside him and his rival commented, ‘I can totally see what your problem is now.’

  ‘What?’ Spider demanded.

  ‘Mate, you’re not insensitive,’ Adam clapped him jovially on the shoulder, ‘you’re just dumb.’

  He was so astonished by this remark that he wasn’t quick enough to respond before Adam had already strolled away to help some other person with loading. It was probably the last squeeze in his lemon of a day. He had never been so dissatisfied with his lot in life.

  At least things with Phoebe had definitely improved. She was taking his side now in most things. They were making more decisions about the wedding together. However, it could not help but sting him that she still hadn’t taken him into her confidence about her father. Whatever the secret was, it was bothering her. He’d seen a worried crease between her brows when she thought he wasn’t looking. This wasn’t like his Phoebe. She was always excited and happy about everything. She wasn’t a worrier. That’s what he loved about her – her optimism and her openness. Where had it gone?

  It was now nearly three weeks to the wedding and he felt the secret between them was like a ticking time bomb over his head. If he was to continue the wedding preparations with any sort of peace of mind, he needed her trust. He was so glad on Friday morning when she’d suggested a day out together without anyone else in her family. They were going to hit the road and chase down everyone on the old staff chart so that they could re-open the restaurant kitchen just for one day. He was pleased to be getting away from the estate for a few hours.

  ‘At last,’ he gripped her shoulders thankfully, ‘some quality time together.’

  She’d nodded and smiled. ‘Let’s take a picnic and have breakfast in our favourite spot.’

  When she looked at him like that, with such love, it was easy to remember why they were getting married. They packed some of the croissants her mother had in the kitchen, along with a flask of coffee, and sat on the beach at Canal Rocks for breakfast – their all-time favourite spot.

  Canal Rocks was an ancient and unusual rock formation that extended on the coastline between Yallingup and Margaret River. The striking orange rock that lined the bank had been eroded along a straight line forming an almost perfectly cut ‘canal’ feature. Several smaller canals also fed into the rock perpendicular to the main one.

  In wild or stormy weather, the ocean churned white and angry in the canals, smashing against its sides and spitting upwards to bless viewers standing on the manmade timber bridge crossing the canal.

  It was a spectacular sight to see. But what was even nicer was a peaceful day like today. The crystal blue water contrasting against that stark orange granite was as conflicting as his own emotions. Sitting on that rock next to Phoebe, munching on her croissant, she felt so close to him and yet miles apart.

  The granite was warm from the sun and strangely reassuring. A gentle breeze whipped at his face as he let his eyes stretch to the horizon of an ocean that was so immaculately calm it couldn’t help but steady him a little. All he could hear was the swirl and lapping of water in the nearby rockpools and the occasional call of a seagull flying overhead. A slight movement caught the corner of his eyes and he discerned a tiny hermit crab trying to find i
ts way home.

  ‘You seem pretty subdued this morning,’ he commented, biting into his breakfast. Perhaps in these tranquil surroundings he could get her to tell him what was bothering her.

  ‘Did you have an affair with Eve last year?’ she asked.

  He choked on his pastry, spluttering and coughing as he reached for his coffee. ‘No.’

  Of all the things he had expected her to say, this was not it!

  ‘Have you ever had any feelings for her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you know she had feelings for you?’

  He gave a start. ‘Does she?’

  ‘Come on, Spider.’ She threw her croissant back into her lunchbox and shut the lid with a snap. ‘You must know something. My father spoke to you about this last year, without my knowledge, and you never said a word. You could at least be honest about that.’

  He frowned. ‘He asked me to end my relationship with Eve. And by that I assumed he meant my friendship, which I thought was grossly unfair as it was innocent enough.’

  ‘Not that innocent.’ Phoebe gritted her teeth as she thought of the note. ‘She was in love with you. You must have noticed.’

  His heart sank as he desperately tried to pull clues from his brain. Scenes from the past flashed – little things, quiet moments that had made him wonder briefly but not for very long.

  Damn it!

  Maybe I am just dumb.

  He searched Phoebe’s face. ‘You know, there were times when I was a little suspicious. But Eve is such a closed person, Phee, you know that. She never likes talking about difficult subjects.’

  ‘Neither do you for that matter,’ she accused. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about all this stuff earlier?’

  His face crumpled. ‘I didn’t want to lose you. And it seemed like a one-way ticket to just that.’

  He could tell her disappointment in him was palpable. ‘You’re going to lose me anyway if you don’t tell me the full truth right now.’

  He put his croissant away. ‘I have told you the full truth, Phee, I swear! I have never crossed that line with Eve. I’ve never even spoken about it with her. And as for the fire, it wasn’t arson, it was a tragic accident, the result of a few neglected candles. That’s it. There’s no conspiracy here. Unless you want to count your father’s blind prejudice against me.’