by Kiera Jayne
Flynn threw his hands into the air. “Whoa, Perie, calm down!”
“No, I won't calm down! You know Aunty Denise was an outcast in my family. She was shunned by my mother’s family for being a little bit out there, a little different. Everyone would ask me why I bothered to help her. They couldn't understand why I wanted to look after crazy Aunty Denise. They couldn't see the sweet lady underneath the kookiness. She soldiered on, but I could tell it hurt her. She was so sweet, you know? Your mum’s sweet, Flynn, and she deserves to be treated better, for you to take an interest in her life. We’re going to her barbecue tonight and we are going to have a great time. You got that?”
Flynn stared at Perie as her small breasts heaved with every heavy breath she forced out, her anger colouring her ivory cheeks. There was no way he was going to argue with her. He didn’t bother to remind Perie of how his mum had treated him and his sister after she left his dad. What would be the point? He should try to be the bigger person for once. Flynn stuffed the cold food into the cooler and mumbled, “Got it.”
***
After the supermarket, Perie and Flynn headed to the industrial estate off the town’s bypass. While Flynn went in search of some timber, Perie made her way across to the mower shop, hoping they knew someone she could hire to tame the overgrown yard.
As she pushed the glass door open and stepped inside, a blast of cool air hit her clammy skin, making her realise it was fairly warm today, just not Brisbane warm. Granite Ridge was gloriously humidity-free for the most part, which would make their summer restorations much easier to handle.
The front of the shop was abandoned, so Perie hit the bell situated on the counter. When no one turned up after a few minutes, she hit the bell again.
A tall, burly guy bowled through the backdoor which appeared to lead out to the repairs workshop. “Hey, sorry about that, ma’am. How can I help you?”
That voice was so familiar, which shouldn't have been a big deal in her tiny hometown. She hadn't heard this voice since high school and she had never forgotten it. It sent shivers through Perie’s body. “Vaughn?”
The man stopped in his tracks. His dark brown eyes widened, and his handsome face was a picture of shock as he realised who was standing in front of him. “Perie Miller? No way!”
She leaned her hand on the bench and grinned. “Yes, way! You'd better get your arse around this counter and give me a hug.”
Vaughn hung his head and chuckled before he made his way around to her and pulled her into his arms. Perie laughed as he lifted her tiny frame off the ground and swung her about. His huge arms held her tight against his muscular body and she struggled to fight the desire that shot down her spine as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, his full lips brushing against her skin. “I've missed you, Perie.”
“Aw!” She lifted her head off his shoulder and studied his face. His square, stubble-covered jaw, the full lips she remembered the feel of even after all these years, the eyes she always lost herself in. There was a sadness reflected in them now. Perie wondered why. “It's good to see you,” she said as he set her back on her feet.
Vaughn flashed a bashful smile. “Yeah?”
“Yes! It's been so long. What have you been up to?”
The smile faded somewhat. “Oh, not much. Helpin’ Dad out.” He indicated the shop.
“But you just got back from somewhere, right?”
“How do you know that?” Vaughn asked.
“I've been back and forth between here and Brisbane for the last year or so.”
“Oh yeah . . . your aunty. I heard about her.”
Perie lowered her eyes to the floor.
“I'm sorry. Were you close?”
“Yep.” The word caught in Perie’s throat. “It's, um . . . why I'm here, actually. She left her house to me and I need a mower man. Do you know of someone I could hire?”
“Yeah, sure. He's standing right in front of you.”
“You?”
Vaughn chuckled. “Don't look so surprised. I work in a mower shop; I think I can mow a lawn.”
“It's three acres of jungle . . .” Perie warned.
“So, I'll bring the line trimmer as well.” He sent her an exaggerated wink.
“And maybe a hedge trimmer, if you have one,” Perie added.
Vaughn leaned in close. “I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m trying to start up a garden care business. You’ll be my first customer.”
Perie almost couldn't believe it. Here she was talking to Vaughn Forester years later and after everything that had happened, they were falling straight back into flirt-mode. Not that Perie minded . . . not one bit. The guy was sexier than ever. “Well, okay then. Tomorrow, if that's possible?”
“See you then,” Vaughn agreed.
Feeling like she'd already accomplished something significant, Perie practically skipped out of the mower shop and made her way back to Flynn’s vehicle at the same time he stepped out of the timber store.
“You look happier,” he observed. “Does that mean you're not angry with me anymore?”
Perie narrowed her hazel eyes. “Only if you behave tonight. No sulking. Promise?”
“I don't sulk,” Flynn scoffed.
“You're sulking right now,” Perie pointed out.
Flynn huffed and all Perie could do was laugh.
Perie wrapped her arms around his arm. “Let's go home and get ready for your mum’s dinner.”
“AH, SHIT!” VAUGHN SNAPPED as the wrench he was using slipped and dug into his finger, breaking the skin.
“Oi, what's wrong with you?” his father, Dave, demanded. “You haven't been able to concentrate for more than five minutes this afternoon.”
“I'm fine,” Vaughn lied. He threw the wrench to the cement floor and made his way to the first aid kit.
He was distracted alright. Vaughn hadn't been able to stay on task ever since Perie Miller appeared in the shop. As soon as he recognised her, he felt just like he had back in high school when they were an item. Before he and Flynn had . . ..
“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath.
He ruined things with her, and he had regretted it ever since. He cleaned and taped up the small wound, then shuffled back to the repair he was working on. He sank heavily onto the wheeled stool and got back to work, aggressively tinkering with the innards of the machine.
“Will you have that thing done before closing?” his father asked.
“Yeah, Dad, easy. Give me another forty.”
“Righto.” The old man made his way into the air-conditioned office, sat down at his desk, and opened up his old costings book.
Vaughn sighed. He needed to set the old mate up with a computer and internet connection. It would make everyone’s lives much easier and repairs would go faster if they could order things online and have a booking system installed. As he thought about ways to improve the business, Vaughn got caught up again.
“Hi, Vaughn.”
Vaughn looked up at the woman hanging over him and inwardly groaned. “G’day, Vicki.”
Vicki Simmons was Dave’s employee, Robert’s younger sister. She was taking a liking to Vaughn and wasn't shy in her flirtations. The thing was, Vaughn didn't feel the same way.
“Aren't you going to finish up for the day? It's getting late.” She twirled her platinum hair around her finger and cocked her head to the side.
In an effort to avoid her flirtatious gaze, Vaughn glanced at the clock on the tin wall. Suddenly, it was close to five p.m. Where had the time gone? He turned back to the mower. “I'm pretty much done here. You lot go, I'll close up.”
“I was hoping you might come to the pub for a drink.” Vicki tried to act as innocent as possible. Vaughn knew there was nothing innocent about it, though.
“I can't. I've got an early morning tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I've got my first client for my yard maintenance business.” Vaughn closed the cover on the mower’s engine.
“Oh.
Well, good for you. But one drink isn't going to hurt . . ..” Vicki pouted.
Vaughn got to his feet. He stepped away from her and placed a tool back into the tool chest. “See you later, Vicki.”
She huffed. Her skimpy denim shorts clung to her rounded arse as she stormed out of the workshop.
Vaughn cleaned up and was walking out the doors half-an-hour later. He walked the four-point-six kilometres home to his little unit on the other side of the creek that ran through the southside of town. He passed by the battered old Subaru that he almost never had to drive and stepped into the old, art deco building. Vaughn set his backpack onto the coat rack, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and settled into his armchair.
Perie clouded his mind again. Why couldn't he get her out of his head? Usually, all he could think about were the horrors he had seen whilst he was on deployment in Afghanistan, but now Perie was drowning all of that out. This might not be a good thing. He didn't know if she was married or not. Did she have kids? Would she still be interested in him after all this time? Could she handle a returned soldier who was prone to brooding?
In an effort to drown out his thoughts, Vaughn turned on the television. When that didn't work, he set aside his half-finished beer and went to his wardrobe. After changing into his workout clothes, he made his way out to his car and went to the gym.
As he pulled into a carpark, he caught a glimpse of a familiar woman. It was Perie again. Vaughn’s heart thudded in his chest as he took in the short, black dress and silver heels which showed off her shapely legs. She was still a slip of a thing. Damn, she looked sexy.
He watched her laugh as she lifted up a bottle of wine, waving it in the air triumphantly before she climbed into a fancy new Volkswagen Amarok.
It couldn’t be . . ..
Vaughn’s mouth dropped open when he saw Flynn Brewer lean across to open the door for Perie.
They were all back in town for the first time in years. Vaughn wasn't sure the town was big enough for the three of them.
***
“Well, I guess this is it.” Flynn turned the vehicle off the road and rolled to a stop by the open gate.
Perie glanced at him, then back down at the fancy, large, rendered house nestled in amongst the paddocks of green and brown. “Well, not quite. Not until we actually pull up in front of the house, go in and say g’day.”
When Flynn glared at her, she simply pursed her lips and shrugged.
“Just look at the place, would you? A traditional, weatherboard farmhouse isn't good enough for them? They have to have a fancy rendered house with a cemented driveway and landscaped gardens,” Flynn grumped.
“Oi. I intend to landscape Denise’s gardens. What's wrong with that?” Perie demanded.
Flynn scrunched up his nose at her. “Why don't you put in something useful . . . like a veggie garden?”
“Ah, because I don't plan to stay here permanently. It'll be like my holiday house. Remember those lives we have back in Brisbane?”
Flynn sighed.
“Take my hand.”
He looked down at Perie’s outstretched hand dubiously.
“Do it,” Perie ordered.
Flynn dropped his hand into hers and she wrapped her fingers around it.
“Now squeeze it.”
He did. What on earth was this all about?
“I want you to remember how this feels. How my hand feels in yours. Because tonight, even if I'm not physically holding your hand, I'm by your side. You've got my support, no matter what. But you need to promise me one thing . . ..”
“What's that?” Flynn murmured, his voice growing husky.
“Please try to make your mother happy.”
After a moment, Flynn reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, alright.”
Satisfied with his answer, Perie faced forwards in her seat once more. “Drive on.”
Flynn steered the Amarok down the long, meandering dirt road to the house and parked under the single, fat-trunked palm tree. He and Perie got out of the car and took the place in. Flynn automatically reached for Perie’s hand and she gladly gave it to him as she tucked the bottle of wine under her arm.
She glanced at the nearby vineyard that was situated along the edge of a small hill and her steps faltered. “Seems kind of redundant to bring a bottle of wine to a vineyard, doesn't it?”
“It's the thought that counts,” Flynn replied.
“Hi, you two!” Brooke yelled as she stepped out onto the front patio.
“Into the belly of the beast,” Flynn said through gritted teeth.
Perie elbowed him and whispered, “Be nice.”
Flynn pulled his mother into a hug. “Hey, Mum.”
“Hello, welcome.” She turned to her son’s companion. “Perie.”
“Hi.” Perie smiled big as she received a cuddle as well.
“Come in!”
They were led past a study and formal living room into an open-plan kitchen and family area with a long, timber dining table situated between the kitchen and the brown suede lounge suite. Double sliding doors led out to an outdoor area with a top-of-the-range outdoor kitchen. Brooke’s family was gathered around the timber outdoor setting.
Flynn’s hand tightened around Perie’s in an almost crushing grip as they approached the group.
“Flynn,” his stepfather said by way of greeting.
“Chris.”
Sean, his stepbrother, held his hand out. “Hello, Flynn. Good to see you.”
Flynn reluctantly dropped Perie’s hand to shake Sean’s. “Sean. Back from Europe, hey?”
Sean nodded. “For a few weeks. Had to come home and meet my new nephew.”
Flynn nodded. “Yeah, right.”
Sean buried his hands into his pockets. “Are you coming to the christening?”
“When’s that?”
Sean frowned. “Haven't you received an invite?”
“No, mate.”
Sean shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Oh. Well, maybe it got lost in the mail . . ..”
“Right.” Flynn’s quiet laugh was humourless.
“Papa!” a little girl shouted as she launched herself at Sean and wrapped her arms around his legs. She mumbled something in French as she peered up at Perie and Flynn with her large, expressive azure eyes.
Sean responded to her in kind and added, “Anglais, bébé.”
“Oui, Papa.”
Perie knelt down so she was on the little girl’s level. “Bonjour, mademoiselle. Je’ m’appelle Perie.”
“Bonjour. Je suis Margot,” the girl responded.
“Lovely to meet you!” Perie glanced up at Sean. “Sorry, that's about the extent of my high school French retention.”
“Well done,” Sean praised.
Perie stroked the girl’s short brown hair. “How are you liking visiting your gran and grandpa?”
“Mémé and pépé,” Sean corrected.
Margot’s face lit up as she nodded. “We went on the motorbike today to see cows and . . . mouton?” She glanced up at her dad.
“Sheep.”
“Sheep!”
“Wow, that sounds awesome, sweetie!” Perie exclaimed.
“Come and meet the family.” Sean waved Perie and Flynn towards the outdoor dining table. “Flynn, Perie, this is my wife, Juliette and my two-year-old son, Olivier.” Sean’s fatherly pride made him puff out his chest ever so slightly.
“Bonjour,” Juliette said with a smile. Her hair was just like Margot’s, but her eyes were the colour of chocolate, and like Perie, she was a thin rake of a woman. “Lovely to meet you.”
“How's the business going, Flynn?” Chris asked as he turned the food on the barbecue. “I hear you've been doing it tough?”
Flynn shrugged. “I was for a while there, but I came up with a new strategy and now I'm back in the black again.”
“Oh, right. What strategy was that, if you don't mind me asking?”
“He works with me,” Perie piped up.
Flynn jumpe
d back in quickly, “I specialise in renovations now.”
Perie took up the explanation. “Then I come in and help my clients bring their new space to life better than what they imagined in their head.”
“Sounds like a good partnership,” Sean said.
Brooke smiled. “Flynn and Perie have always had that. They were inseparable from birth.”
“You two make a beautiful couple,” Juliette gushed.
Perie blushed as she and Flynn glanced at each other uncomfortably.
Flynn shifted in his chair. “Oh, we’re not a . . . that.”
“Ah, I understand. That is commonplace in France.”
“What is?” Perie asked.
“A relationship such as yours. How do you say . . .?”
“Shag buddies,” Sean said, careful of his language around the little ones.
Brooke shrugged. “Part-time lovers?”
“That's a Stevie Wonder song, isn't it?” Chris asked.
“Certainly is,” Brooke replied.
Flynn turned the reddest shade Perie had ever seen and all she wanted to do was hug him. But then that would feed the gossip going on around them, wouldn't it? Instead, she simply ran her hand along his back. “We’re just friends.”
“Who like to shag,” Sean insisted with a teasing smile.
Perie ducked her head as she bit back a laugh. She couldn't exactly argue the point—after all, it was true.
“He's finally awake.”
A cacophony of coos went up into the air as the beautiful, curvy Isobel Cooper stepped out onto the patio with her new baby in her arms with her handsome husband, Michael, by her side. His perfect, straight nose, his perfect hair, his high cheekbones, his tidy, cream-coloured capris and Ralph Lauren polo shirt screamed upper crust. As did Izzy’s dusky pink garden party dress and pearl drop earrings. It was like the royal family had arrived with the fanfare they garnered. As though they were presenting baby Max to his public.
The family parted like the Red Sea as the pair made their way to the table. Michael pulled the chair out for his wife so she could sit without disturbing her son, who was snuggled against her bosom.