Bittersweet

by Jacquie Underdown

  ‘You know, she has a pretty high success rate.’

  ‘Really? How high?’

  ‘Freaky high.’

  Tom sighed. ‘Maybe I should be flattered that Rachel thinks I’m good enough to be set up with her best friend.’ Their gazes met for a moment longer than usual again. His scalp tingled, and his heart beat faster as he peered at her beautiful face.

  Amy looked away first and focused on her plate. ‘That’s a nice of way of looking at it.’

  Tom cleared his throat to ease some of the tension there. ‘No plans for sticking around in Alpine Ridge after Rachel comes home?’ He was getting way ahead of himself, sure, but he wanted to know.

  Amy laughed and shook her head. ‘It may be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, but small towns aren’t my thing. I thought I’d stay on for a month, so Rachel can spend some time with Mitch and the baby without worrying about the shop but after that, I’m going to head interstate. Maybe Sydney. Even Brisbane’s restaurant scene is blossoming. I guess it depends where I can find a job.’

  He rested his fork on the side of his plate and scratched his head. It was glaring with the distance and their occupations that a romance would never work. To be perfectly honest, Tom had stopped believing a relationship was even possible in the near future—not with his roster. ‘So why would Rachel try to matchmake us?’

  Amy paused and shrugged. ‘Good question. Not sure why she would when my stay here is temporary …’ she trailed off, shaking her head.

  Of course Rachel knew about Tom’s Christmas kiss with Amy, and it was obvious to all that there had been an intense holiday crush. Maybe Rachel felt a fling between her best friend and brother-in-law would do them both good.

  But that was a flawed conclusion because flings were definitely not what Rachel was about—no, she was the long-term invested-till-the-very-end type of woman.

  A fling would do Tom some good, though. A few months with Amy in his bed would do him wonders. And he’d start tonight. Right this minute if she were willing.

  He peered at her lips—was close enough to lean over and reacquaint himself with the soft press of her mouth.

  Get a grip, Tom.

  He sat up taller and broke his trance by looking down at his steak. He cleared his throat. ‘After dinner, I’ll pack the pram and capsule, so we’re not rushing tomorrow.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  Tom finished his glass of wine and didn’t open another bottle. After twenty-one days working shoulder to shoulder with men, too many months without sex, and sitting next to the most gorgeous woman he could ever recall knowing let alone kissing, wine was apt to make him do or say something he’d regret.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Everything okay?’ asked Rachel.

  The window Amy was gazing out came into focus again before she turned to face her friend lying in the hospital bed. ‘Yes. Fine.’

  Rachel smiled, but there was concern in her eyes. ‘You seem a little distracted.’

  Amy was. Distracted by images—all the Final Reminders from creditors she had pulled out of her mailbox that morning—that kept flashing in her mind like sirens.

  Ideas of how she could pay them all were whirring through her brain, but she couldn’t pin down a solution.

  Even if she landed a head chef position in one of the best restaurants, let alone a small cupcake shop in the middle of nowhere, it wouldn’t be enough.

  Not to mention the strong sense of failure that had settled in her bones like cement and was fast eroding her confidence.

  Failure was foreign to her, and she did not enjoy the taste of it at all. It had shocked her to her core. In fact, she’d rather eat a big pile of steaming rubbish than deal with the aftertaste of ruin.

  ‘I’m okay.’ She forced a smile and searched for a distraction. ‘Look at you. You look so much better than when I saw you yesterday.’

  Rachel laughed. ‘I see right through you, Amy Jenkins. But thank you. I feel better. I think I’ve lost a hundred kilos in fluid alone.’

  ‘That’s a good thing?’

  ‘Yep.’ She paused, wrinkled her nose. ‘So, are you still okay with running the shop because I don’t mind if it’s too much or … not your thing.’

  Her insides clenched to hear her best friend say that her cupcake shop wouldn’t be her thing. Amy had always been incredibly driven with the highest of goals. Her resume was an established chef’s dream. But she didn’t want Rachel to think that the great business she had single-handedly built and made successful was at all beneath her.

  Not at all. She was super-proud of her friend for making it work.

  So she nodded as enthusiastically as she could, attempting to convey that she was more than happy to be helping at Rachel’s shop. ‘I’m looking forward to it. It will be like a long holiday.’

  ‘Except you’ll be baking every day and standing on your feet for hours on end.’ A wry smile flittered across Rachel’s lips. ‘But, yes, a holiday, if you’d like to look at it that way.’

  Amy laughed. ‘Okay, perhaps not quite a holiday.’

  Mitch and Tom walked through the door. Amy snapped her head around to watch their entrance. My God, the Mathews family has sexy genes.

  Both of them were tall and broad, had dark hair and swoon-worthy chocolate coloured irises. But Tom had it all over Mitch. It was his rough-around-the-edges whiskers, in-need-of-a-cut dark hair, and solid jaw. And his swagger—not at all cocky, but self-assured like you often saw with big, confident Texans.

  Two nurses walked past the room, heads craning to catch a glimpse of the brothers. The work day had become brighter for the female staff at the hospital with these two guys strolling down the halls.

  Amy met Rachel’s knowing gaze and was confronted by an arched brow that all by itself said, I know you have a little thing for Tom.

  Do not go there, said Amy’s narrowed eyes before she turned to face the men again.

  Tom smiled at her and her head spun with lust chemicals—which was completely weird and needed to stop right now. With all that was going on, she must keep her wits about her, not succumb to distractions from hormones.

  But she smiled back, nonetheless, and said, ‘Hi again.’

  ‘Hi,’ Tom said, taking a seat beside Mitch on one of the only two chairs in the room.

  ‘Hey, Amy.’ Mitch rested his ankle on his knee as he relaxed back in his chair. ‘Everything okay at the house?’

  ‘Fine. I think I have the better deal when it comes to this house swap.’

  Mitched laughed. ‘We’re just so grateful for your help.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do.’ And she meant it.

  As Amy kept her position on the bed at Rachel’s side, she did her best to avoid glancing at Tom. The last thing she wanted was to add more fuel to Rachel’s matchmaking fire or let on that she did find him mouth-watering. It was bad enough that Amy had been caught in the middle of a hot kiss with Tom at Christmas, and she had to hear about it for weeks afterwards.

  Last night, when they shared a bottle of wine over dinner, there’d been a hum of sexual tension in her body. She was certain he had felt the same way.

  The intensity of her attraction to Tom had caught her off guard during the holidays; she hadn’t intended to feel it again. The last thing on her mind amidst all this turmoil was to feel chemistry for a man she barely knew.

  But no matter how strong the chemistry or what crazy Cupid plans Rachel had brewing, Amy was not—emphatically not—on the lookout for a fling, let alone a relationship.

  ‘You just look so stunning today, Amy. Without trying, you manage to brighten the room,’ Rachel said with a devilish glint in her eye. Amy watched her with suspicion, knowing where this was going. ‘Don’t you think so, Tom?’

  Amy rolled her eyes at her friend but was met by a smile that possessed an air of let Cupid work, darling, I know what I’m doing.

  Tom cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, no doubt uncomfortably. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, voic
e tight.

  Amy shook her head at Rachel and sighed. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

  ‘So do I,’ Mitch said.

  ‘Me three,’ Tom said.

  Rachel giggled. ‘I have no idea what you’re all talking about. Surely I’m allowed to comment on how gorgeous my best friend is.’

  ‘You can comment all you like, babe, it’s the intention behind it,’ Mitch said.

  A glow radiated in Rachel’s eyes. Her smile was dreamy. ‘Can you imagine how amazing it would be if Amy became part of the Mathews family?’

  Hand pressing to her forehead, Amy said, ‘My God, Rachel, we barely know each other, and you’re talking about marriage.’

  ‘I’m that confident in my matchmaking skills.’

  ‘She is pretty damn good,’ agreed Mitch.

  ‘Now you’re just encouraging her,’ Tom said.

  Mitch laughed and slapped Tom on the back.

  Rachel giggled. ‘I was saying to Mitch the other day that I think I have some hidden ability to sense an underlying soul connection between people. A sense most people don’t have.’ She gazed at Mitch and her expression softened. ‘That’s why I knew from the moment I met Mitch that we were going to get married and spend the rest of our lives together.’

  The warm glow of love in Mitch’s gaze as he smiled at his wife melted Amy’s heart. She’d give Rachel that much, she had nailed it when it came to Mitch. Amy had never seen two people who adored each other more.

  She wanted that for herself, someday way off in the future. Maybe.

  And yes, she was attracted to Tom, but it wasn’t going to be with him no matter what Rachel thought.

  Tom had his life in Alpine Ridge.

  Amy had always had her career. Everything, including romance, played second fiddle to that. She didn’t quite have a career at this point in time, but she did have whatever the hell one could call her chaotic situation to come back to. A situation not conducive to romance.

  ‘Anyway,’ Amy said. ‘Tom and I better take off if we want to make it home before dusk.’

  Tom stood and wiped his palms on his jeans.

  ‘Call me if you have any questions tomorrow about the shop,’ Rachel said, gripping Amy’s hand. ‘Or if you run into trouble or don’t know how to use the kitchen aids or something.’

  ‘It should all run smoothly, but I promise I’ll call if I need to,’ Amy said.

  ‘Good. Again, thank you so much for doing this for me.’

  ‘For us,’ added Mitch.

  Amy smiled. ‘It’s my pleasure.’ Love for her best friend ignited in her body as she hugged Rachel goodbye, giving her a hearty squeeze. ‘You keep staying strong,’ she whispered with a watery smile. ‘I’ll be sending you and the bub positive thoughts.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rachel said as Amy shifted out the way for Tom.

  Tom kissed Rachel’s cheek. ‘You rest up, okay?’

  ‘Thanks, Tom. I appreciate you organising all our clothes and gear today.’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘I’ll come back Saturday week to see you,’ Amy said.

  Rachel nodded. ‘That will be nice.’

  Mitch leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. ‘Call me when you get back, Tom, so we can go through what I need you to look after while I’m here.’

  Tom glanced back at Mitch and nodded.

  ‘When are you back at the mine?’ An unmissable hint of accusation was in Mitch’s tone.

  Tom’s jaw gritted. ‘Five days.’ His response was curt.

  Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘You know, it would be so much easier if you gave that escapade up and started back full-time at the vineyard.’ Impatience dripped from each word, and it surprised Amy to hear it.

  ‘I know what you want, Mitch. But this is my life, and I’ll do what I want.’

  Amy drew her gaze away from the men and met Rachel’s frowning face. She shrugged and shook her head.

  ‘But the vineyard is ours,’ Mitch said.

  Tom’s hands landed on his hips. ‘When’s Sam back by the way? Are you on the phone to him to get his arse home from Chelsea?’

  Mitch nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, I have been. And he’ll be home before you leave again.’

  Tom shook his head, then glanced at Rachel with an expression of apology. When he turned to face Mitch again, he said, ‘This isn’t the place or the time to be discussing this. And to be honest, I’m fed-up with discussing it.’ His last sentence had an ounce of defeat in it.

  ‘Fine,’ Mitch snapped.

  ‘Are we ready to leave?’ Tom asked Amy. His words were even, but the tightness in his neck and jaw exposed the effort taken to achieve it.

  Amy nodded, happy to get away from the tension that was throbbing between the brothers.

  Without another word, Tom marched out of the room. Amy followed behind him, turning as she got to the door and waving goodbye to Mitch and Rachel.

  As they headed down to the car park, Amy didn’t attempt conversation. If Tom wanted to discuss what happened, he could approach it in his own time.

  They climbed into her car and buckled up.

  Amy started the engine, and it rumbled to life. ‘Rachel looks a billion times healthier today.’

  ‘It was a relief to see her bright and smiling,’ Tom said.

  ‘She and the baby are going to be fine, aren’t they?’

  Tom met her gaze, two lines of tension sat between his brows. ‘Of course they are.’

  As she drove out of the car park and onto the main road, her mind wandered towards Rachel’s shop. A rabble of butterflies swarmed in her stomach when she pictured herself baking again.

  On a rational level, she was well aware that there was more to the bad reviews she had received from critics, and their reasons for slamming her restaurant were a personal vendetta rather than a reflection of her skills as a chef. But defending, and striving to prove herself against such maliciousness had battered her confidence and stamina.

  In the end, as the business nose-dived into an abyss of failure, and she woke up each morning with such crushing dread, not wanting to get out of bed let alone face another long day in the kitchen, she had wondered if, perhaps, the critics were right.

  Surely her mouth-watering desserts would be enough to counteract the criticisms and keep customers coming?

  But her menu wasn’t enough.

  She wasn’t enough.

  And now, as she contemplated stepping foot in another kitchen, the doubt had returned. Fear was close behind it. Fear she had been conditioned to feel about cooking because of all the painful baggage that had attached itself to the activity.

  What did that mean for her? She didn’t know how she was going to continue her career when her very occupation frightened her. An occupation she once found most exhilarating.

  Even the thought of baking cupcakes, which she had done countless times at culinary school and throughout her career, had her sweating. What if the regulars thought they were not as good as Rachel’s and stop coming by? What if she ruined Rachel’s business on top of her own?

  ‘Everything okay?’ asked Tom.

  Amy’s imagination reel ground to a stop. She glanced at him. ‘Yep. Fine. Why?’

  ‘I thought you were going to chew your bottom lip off.’

  I’d been chewing my lip? She ran her tongue over it; there was a hint of soreness there. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Thinking about the cupcake shop?’

  She shook her head, glanced at him again and was met by a knowing arched brow. She was getting tired of these know-it-all eyebrows. ‘Fine. Yes. I was thinking about the shop.’

  ‘Why don’t we stop in there on our way home, and you can whip up a practice batch? Just to ease you back into it. No pressure. I’ll be your sous chef.’ He grinned. ‘And taste tester.’

  She focused on him for a moment. It would be nice to have support—something she had lacked in the last year. Music could play softly in the background while she baked. Just t
wo friends cooking together—a relaxed, no-pressure environment.

  That may be exactly what she needed to break through the fear. ‘You wouldn’t mind?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  She smiled. ‘I’d like that. Thank you.’

  Main Street of Alpine Ridge was a single road lined with century-old restored buildings. On their way to Rachel’s cupcake shop, Sugar Cakes, they passed a butchery, small supermarket, chemist, newsagency and a bakery, each painted in their own unique colour.

  Sugar Cakes was lemon yellow, the shop to the left a pale blue, and to the right, soft grey. Up the road, on the corner, sat the obligatory pub—a big square double-storey building. A veranda with ornate timber railings stretched around the perimeter.

  Beyond that was lush hills, valleys and peaks of mountain ranges so far away they were deep blue. And above it all was the unending sky threaded with wispy white clouds.

  Amy parked at the back of the store and hesitated to open the car door, taking a moment to calm herself with a deep breath. She detested her rebelling nerves.

  With an encouraging smile on his face, Tom strode around the front of the car to her side and opened her door. He held out his hand. Compassionate brown eyes regarded her. ‘Come on. I’ll help you out.’

  Her gaze travelled from his face down to his hand, and her nerves subsided, replaced by a tingling desire to press her skin to his. She pushed her hand into his big warm hand, which encased hers. Sparks of electricity ignited from that simple touch.

  He tugged, assisting her out, not letting go even as she shut the door behind her and adjusted her jeans on her waist.

  Craning her head back, she peered up into his delicious chocolate eyes. Being so close to him, feeling his flesh on her flesh, her thrumming body made her well aware of just how much she enjoyed looking at this man’s face—the rich growth of stubble framing his strong jaw matched the colour of his eyes and hair.

  But his face didn’t detract from the rest of him. It only complimented his thick muscled arms, chest, and those big, broad shoulders.

  A distraction all right, but not in the way he had intended.