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The House On Burra Burra Lane

Page 26

by Jones, Jennie


  ‘What things?’

  ‘You tell me first. You came here to tell me something, not to listen to me.’

  ‘Oh, I want to listen to you, I really, really do, but you’re right. There is something I want to say.’

  He waited.

  ‘Last night,’ she began.

  ‘Last night when you were alone thinking about me? Or last night outside the Bar & Grill?’

  Her smile was a flirting one, but she let it flutter. ‘That was the biggest disturbance I’ve ever seen anyone make in any town. You had quite a lot to say too, and coming from you, it was a miracle.’

  He waited for more, then moistened his mouth, creased his eyes again. ‘Is that it? Is this your idea of a telling off? Thought for a few seconds I might have got away with it. That you’d come to see me so you could throw yourself at me and beg me to kiss you … or something.’

  ‘Not on your life. I want the full nine yards first—the apology and everything.’

  He blew out his breath. ‘Thought you didn’t want my apologies.’

  ‘I figure this will be the last one.’

  His smiled started: a tilt—not fully loose yet. ‘Pretty sure of yourself, Miss Walker.’

  She was out of stages, hadn’t planned this part. ‘What about that list you were harping on about?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘I’d like to know what’s on it.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll be quiet and consider it?’

  She bit her grin. ‘I’ll consider it.’

  He wore his navy shirt, the one soft with wear, with the little rip in the pocket. And there was the tip of his pencil, sticking over the top. It probably went through the wash, along with the shirt.

  He spoke more calmly than Sammy had expected. ‘First on the list is, I love you. Last on the list is, I love you. There’s a lot in between, about what it is that I love about you. And there are a few blanks, where I want to learn new things to love about you.’

  She waited.

  ‘Is this making the right impression?’

  She nodded, swallowed the lump in her throat. There was that look in his eye. The one she’d been waiting to see so she could step forwards into the unknown part of her plan—the part where he took over.

  ‘I thought long, hard, and sometimes in despair about what I wanted from you, Sammy.’

  ‘What can I do to make you see what you have in front of you?’

  ‘Nothing. You don’t need to do anything, I can see it.’

  ‘And do you have your answer?’

  His smile tilted further. ‘I can see a light in your eyes. I think it’s for me.’ He took hold of her upper arms and pulled her close. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’ll take it as a yes.’

  ‘Take what as a yes?’

  ‘You.’ He leaned down, his mouth open and his eyes darkened with … love.

  ‘Wait… Wait!’ She stopped him. ‘You have to ask me, Ethan. I don’t want to accept without the statement that’s supposed to go with it. I want to hear the question.’

  He took her hands in his and banked them against his chest. His shirt smelled of all-night restlessness, of outdoors, lead pencil and builders chalk.

  He kissed her forehead. He kissed each eyelid. He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Will you, your freckles, your crazy exuberance, your cat and your chickens, and anything you wear, please marry me?’

  She rose to him, sliding her arms around his neck. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, burying her body, and being, in the strength and warmth of him.’

  ‘There’s something else.’ He held her with one arm and withdrew something from his pocket.

  Sammy stared at the topaz ring in the palm of his hand.

  ‘I’d like you to wear it, but you don’t have to if you don’t like it.’

  The setting was old. Vintage rose gold with clusters of diamonds around the topaz. ‘Was it your mother’s?’

  ‘No. There’s nothing unhappy about this ring, Sammy. It belonged to my grandmother. My grandparents were happy together. They lost their lives together. I imagine they’re still together.’ He paused. ‘Only if you want it.’

  She tilted her face to him. ‘You gave me happy diamonds.’

  ‘You don’t deserve any other kind.’

  Poetry, diamonds, and the topaz he’d said would suit her. He’d known her all along.

  ‘I’d love to wear it.’

  He grinned, cleared his throat, looked like he was in the middle of mindboggling dream. He slid the ring on her finger, pressing it a little over her knuckle. ‘Thought I’d be carrying it around in my pocket for the next twelve months—or perhaps a decade.’

  She smiled. ‘Are you joking? The town would have a field day, you’d never get your hundred dollars back.’

  He licked his lips. ‘I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright.’ He didn’t wait for an answer. He kissed her.

  A long, slow kiss. An exploration of a kiss. A tingling, thrilling kiss. A deal. Sealed. They were going to take a walk together. They’d have tartan picnic blankets for when they fished the river. They’d have a park bench in town so they could sit and bask in the sun. They were going to take a stroll through life and make memories together.

  He sighed as he released her. ‘I love your mouth, too. Did I tell you that?’

  Sammy shook her head. ‘You said you loved my eyes. Didn’t mention anything about my mouth.’

  ‘Don’t ever rub those freckles off your nose either. And don’t cut your hair or I’ll divorce you.’

  How come he couldn’t hear her heart singing? ‘Don’t ever change, Ethan. I love you as you are.’

  ‘I imagine we’ll both do some changing. Not just within ourselves, but what we do, what we give back. I need to give something back, Sammy. I thank fate and chance and luck that I’ve got you in my arms but I don’t trust them. I’m never letting go, do you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Sparkling and sensual, that’s how he made her feel.

  He grinned. ‘I like it when I’m in charge. How often will it happen?’

  She smiled. ‘As often as you like.’

  He laughed, hugged her tight. ‘Hardly ever, I imagine. But I’ve got an idea about how we can begin this new life together.’ He leaned back. ‘It’ll involve taking you out of your clothes.’

  She giggled. ‘How fast do you think you can get these clothes off me?’

  ‘How fast do you want to know?’

  ‘Oh, Ethan.’ She didn’t want to remove her arms from around his neck, ever.

  He lowered his jaw and locked her in his gaze. ‘Can I ask you something? It’s important.’

  What did he need? What hadn’t she expressed?

  ‘Am I the first man you’d been with since Dolan?’

  She held her breath, nodded.

  ‘And did I … ’ He paused for so long that Sammy couldn’t stand it.

  ‘You took away every bad memory. You cared for me. I couldn’t have been happier in any man’s arms but yours and never will be again.’

  ‘I’ll always care for you. Do you understand that?’

  Sammy nodded. ‘I’ll watch your back too.’

  ‘So why are we wasting time in the kitchen when we could be caring for each other in the bedroom?’

  ‘I have to visit my mother.’

  ‘We’ll go together. Later.’

  ‘I have to tell her our news.’

  ‘We’ll tell her together. This afternoon.’

  ‘I have to pay Mr and Mrs Capper.’

  He squeezed her. ‘Sammy, I need you now. I’m feeling kind of desperate.’

  ‘I want to ring the biggest bell and tell the world!’ She clutched his back, pressing herself to him. ‘Did you know that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings?’

  ‘Well, my beautiful Sammy, there are going to be a lot of angels hanging around you, because my heart will ring like a bell every time I look at you.’

  The early morning light shone in his eyes. The pro
mise of summer.

  ‘I need to prove to you I will stay, Sammy. Always.’ He pressed his hand to the base of her spine. ‘So here’s the deal, while I’m still in charge.’ He kissed her, thoroughly, holding the back of her head and pulling her body tight against his. ‘You can either walk with me or I pick you up and carry you but either way we’re going to bed. It’s the only choice I’m giving you. Take it or leave it.’

  Sammy breathed in the joy of him. ‘Well … put like that … ’

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  ISBN: 9780857990532

  Title: THE HOUSE ON BURRA BURRA LANE

  Copyright © 2013 by Jennie Jones

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. NSW, Australia, 2067.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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