kidding yourself, mate.
Work was the wimp excuse. The wussy versus the brave. From somewhere deep inside him he had to drag out the truth. At the wedding, he’d felt a real connection to Lizzie that he had never felt before—a connection that had been severed with a painful cut by the way she’d behaved. Now he realised that link could easily fuse together again. Go further with her and he could get hurt.
And there was nothing wimpy about avoiding the kind of hurt that could destroy a man. Like the pain he’d felt when Camilla had ended it with him so brutally. Like when Ben had lost his family.
But Ben had found new happiness with Sandy. All around him were people in settled, fulfilling relationships. And he was headed for thirty, older and wiser, he hoped. He realised just telling Lizzie about Camilla’s behaviour and hearing Lizzie’s outrage on his behalf had done him good.
It had also made him realise how very different the two women were. He doubted that blunt, straightforward Lizzie had it in her to be as devious as Camilla. What good reason—what real, valid reason—was there left for him not to be brave when it came to Lizzie?
‘What are we waiting for to happen?’ he asked her. ‘If we don’t take this chance while we’re actually both in the same country, will we live to regret it?’
She got up from the sofa, walked across the room, stood with her back to him for a terrifyingly long moment. Then she turned to face him again, took the steps to bring her closer to him again. He got up from the sofa to meet her.
‘I’ve had a horrible thought,’ she said, still keeping a distance between them.
‘Tell me,’ he said, bracing himself for her words.
She tilted her head to one side. ‘What if we walked away from this and kept up the pretence we were just friends, then the next time we met was at one of our weddings to someone else?’
A shudder racked him at the thought. ‘That is a horrible thought.’
‘Too horrible to contemplate,’ she said. ‘I don’t know that I could bear it.’
‘Me neither. I say we forget the pretence of friendship. If there’s something real between us then we can address my job, your jealousy and any other barriers we’ve put between us.’
She covered the distance between them in a few steps, opened her arms and put them around him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I say yes. We give it a go.’
He drew her tightly to him. This. This was what he wanted.
* * *
Lizzie stood close to Jesse in the circle of his arms. She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt this mix of happiness and anticipation. Facing the future—even if they were only talking the immediate future—felt so much less scary when she was facing it with Jesse. She could almost feel those barricades she’d put up against him falling down one by one with a noisy clatter.
Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. ‘One more thing. There might be a puppy to throw into the mix of things we have to consider.’
He groaned. ‘You’ve been talking to my mother.’
Lizzie pulled away from him so she could look up at his face but stayed in the protective circle of his arms. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Her house is full of foster dogs and she’s always on the lookout for homes for them.’
‘Amy would love a puppy. So would I. My father would never allow us to have pets. I always wanted one.’
‘Needless to say, we always had dogs when I was growing up. How could I not love them? I admire Mum for her commitment to rescues.’
‘I hear a “however” there,’ she said. These days, she picked up on the slightest nuances in his voice.
‘Some of the parts of the world I’ve worked in, children live worse lives than our pampered pooches. It’s charities for kids I support.’
Was Jesse saying the things he knew she wanted to hear? She shook her head to rid herself of the thought. She had decided to trust him.
‘Are you too good to be true, Jesse Morgan?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I’m just me, Lizzie—take me as you find me. I didn’t tell you that looking for praise,’ he said. ‘But it’s a good way to segue into the fund-raising dinner the dog shelter my mother supports is having on Saturday night.’
‘Maura did mention it, so did Sandy. But I said no. I can’t afford a late night when I’ll have such an early start next day. I’m expecting Sunday to be one of our busiest days at the café.’
‘What if you made it an early night?’ he coaxed. ‘Just come for the dinner and then I take you straight home?’
Her smile was teasing, mischievous. ‘Are you asking me on a date, Jesse?’
‘I guess I am. Surely it can’t be all work and no play for you.’
‘No, but—’
‘Where’s the “but”, Lizzie? You can’t use the “just friends” argument any more.’
‘I...I don’t want everyone in Dolphin Bay knowing our business.’ She would never forget that dreadful moment at the wedding when that raucous crowd had discovered her and Jesse kissing on the balcony.
‘I understand. And feel the same way. So we keep it private,’ he said.
‘Even from my sister and your brother?’ Sandy was the last person she’d want to know about the change in status of her relationship with Jesse. She didn’t want any more warnings or disapproval. Not when she’d decided to switch off her own inner warning system when it came to Jesse.
‘If that’s what you want,’ he said. ‘I’ve never confided in Ben about my relationships.’
‘And Amy too, when she gets here on Wednesday. Until...until we know for sure where we’re going.’ If Jesse were to be a part of her life, they would have to introduce the idea to her daughter with great care.
‘Fine by me,’ he said.
He cradled her face in his hands. Kissed her briefly, tenderly. Even on that level of kiss, he was a master.
‘I’ll come to the fund-raiser with you,’ she said. ‘To everyone there we’ll just be friends, but to us—’
‘We’ll be finding out if we can be so much more.’
‘Yes,’ she said.
SATURDAY MORNING WAS so busy at Bay Bites that Lizzie had to call in a casual waitress for extra help. It wasn’t just for help with table service; the phone was also ringing off the hook with advance bookings. She was elated and also somewhat surprised that the word had spread so quickly. Don’t jinx it, she reminded herself.
She was in the kitchen checking a new batch of the rhubarb and strawberry muffins that had just come out of the oven when Sandy burst in the back door, fizzing with excitement. She grabbed Lizzie by the arm. ‘Forget those—they look perfect, smell divine and will probably be gone in ten minutes. Come outside, will you.’
Bemused, Lizzie let herself be dragged outside by her sister. Sandy waved the Saturday edition of Sydney’s major newspaper in her face. ‘Check this out in the Lifestyle section. Bay Bites has been included in an article about the foodie scene on the south coast.’
Lizzie felt her stomach plummet to below the level of her clogs. There had already been positive reviews from customers on the internet review sites. But to be reviewed by this newspaper was something different altogether. The review would go on its website too and find its way into prominent positions on search engines. A bad