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She nodded. 'The best.'
His grin widened. ‘You like a guy so out of control he can't make it to the bedroom?'
‘Not any guy.’ She grabbed his lapels and hauled him close until their noses almost touched. 'I like you, Nick Mancini. Every delicious, bad-boy, inch of you.'
'I love it when you talk dirty to me.'
'I didn't mean—'
'I know.' He chuckled and rubbed noses with her as he stroked her back; long, languid strokes that relaxed her, and she rested her cheek on his chest, inhaling his seductive scent. 'Do you think it's ironic we're back here where it all started?'
She pulled away and glanced up at him. 'You mean my first time?'
He nodded, caressing her cheek with a tenderness that stole her breath and warmed her heart.
'I wanted to make it special for you then too. Which meant the oven chose that day to malfunction so the pizza was cold, the frozen apple pie didn't defrost fast enough, and I sprayed cola all over you.'
She smiled at the memories. 'That night was special and it was all because of you.' Her fingertips skimmed his jaw, savouring the faint prickle of stubble, before hovering over his lips, tracing their outline. 'You were incredible and I've never forgotten that night.'
Or the few months after it, when they'd sneak down to the river to have sex underneath the towering eucalypts or beneath the beautiful jacarandas. To this day, she couldn't walk past a jacaranda without blushing, its unique fragrance a poignant reminder of Nick laying her on a carpet of purple blossoms and taking her to the heavens and back.
'I say we recreate the magic.’ He winked. ‘Though this time, we might make it to the bedroom. You in?'
Excitement surged through her as she nodded, and he swept her into his arms and headed for his old bedroom.
'I'm definitely in,' she said, laughing out loud when he twirled her around a few times before bumping the door open with his hip.
'Good, because if you'd said no, I would've dropped you.'
Nipping the skin beneath his jaw, she nuzzled him. 'You wouldn't dare.'
'Never dare a rebel,' he said, dumping her on the bed before joining her, their laughter surrounding them in lovely warmth.
She glanced around the room, at the wooden shelves stacked high with trophies, several motorbike helmets in one corner, old leather jackets in the other. 'This room hasn't changed.'
He shrugged, a blush stealing into his cheeks. 'I never stay here. My life's in Noosa now. I guess Pa was too busy running the place when he was alive to worry about changing the bedrooms.'
Did Nick know his voice changed when he spoke about his father? Deepened, softened, as if caught up in good times. She envied him that, had always envied him the easy, close relationship he'd shared with his dad. It was one of the reasons she'd liked hanging out here so much; that, and the mean lasagna Pa cooked.
'I love this place. Do you really need to sell?'
A momentary shadow clouded his eyes before he blinked and it vanished. 'It's not fair to let it run down. And I don't have the time to do much out here.'
'Why don't you hire a manager? Farm hands? Get the plantation up and running again?'
He shook his head, the tiny indentation between his brows a sign she shouldn’t but into business that didn’t concern.
'You know what this place meant to Pa.' He didn't have to add 'and me'. She could see his reluctance to sell in his clenched jaw, in his rigid neck muscles, and could hear it in his formidable tone.
'All the more reason to keep it, bring it back to life—'
‘It's time to let the place go.’ His jaw clenched. ‘You of all people should understand the power of memories and the need to move on.'
Oh yeah, she understood the need to move on all too well. As for memories, her good ones involved Nick and, rather than push the issue about the farm, she needed to start creating new ones.
'Yeah, I get it.' Her gaze caught a flash of silver hanging off the mirror. 'Hey, is that the medallion I gave you?'
He followed her line of vision, the deepening pink on his tanned cheeks a dead giveaway he'd rather forget that he'd kept a girly trinket.
