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He tried to focus on anything other than the woman riding beside him. But it was no use. Every time he caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, his heart skipped a beat. He had to get a grip on himself, or he was going to do something stupid. Again. It didn’t help that she looked more beautiful than ever in the dappled sunlight, her hair catching the breeze and her skin glowing with a healthy flush.
He was in trouble.
They reached the stable way too soon for his liking, and he watched as she dismounted her horse and started to unsaddle. Doing the same, he could feel the heat emanating from her, and it made him even more aware of his own desires. He had to focus on something else, anything else, before he lost control.
‘Hey, Morgan, are you okay?’ Her voice brought him back to reality, and he realised he’d been staring at her.
He cleared his throat. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought.’
She smiled softly. ‘Anything you want to talk about?’
He shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts that threatened to consume him. ‘No, really, it’s nothing.’
She nodded, understanding in her eyes. ‘I’m here if you need me.’
You have no idea how much I need you, Jess.
They stood there for another long moment, the tension between them palpable. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull her into his embrace and never let go, but he knew he couldn’t. Not without risking everything.
Instead, he took a step back and gestured towards the horses. ‘I’ll put these two away, if you want to head back to the homestead.’
‘Okay, as long as you’re sure, I mean, I don’t mind helping.’
‘Nah, I’m all good, thanks, Jess.’
‘Righto, well, I’ll catch you back there then.’
‘Yup, I’ve got a bit to do after this, and then I’ll head over next door and grab the roses from the flower farm.’
‘Great, thanks, Morgan.’
‘No problemo.’ He watched her disappear out the stable door, taking another piece of him with her.
* * *
Cooking always helped to take Jess’s mind off things. And right now, after kissing Morgan the night before, even though they’d broached the uncomfortable subject and agreed to move past it, she needed to cook like her life depended upon it. She needed to distract herself from the fact that she still wanted him. Immensely. Even as she tried to push her attraction to him aside, it continued to gnaw at her. She knew it was wrong, that she couldn’t act on it, but the desire was still there, smouldering just below the surface. As she diced the vegetables for the beef and Guinness stew, her mind wandered to the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened if they’d played with the fire burning between them. She dropped the veggies into the preheated pressure cooker, and her cheeks flushed as she recalled his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, and the way he’d looked at her with such intensity. But it was all just a fantasy to believe it could happen again, or go any further than they’d already taken it, and a dangerous fantasy at that. She couldn’t afford to lose him as a friend, not after everything they’d been through together. Not after how hard they’d worked at mending their tattered relationship.
As the timer beeped she placed the wooden spoon down and dashed towards the oven. Hot air hit her in the face as she swung the door open, and she reached in, grabbed hold of the tray with the oven mitts and slid it out. Plonking it onto the sink, she smiled. The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls filled the kitchen, and by the looks of their fluffy centres with the perfect gooey, golden crust, she knew that she’d nailed it this time. She couldn’t wait for Morgan’s verdict when he tucked into one. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, letting the delectable scent fill her senses, and then turned the kettle on to make herself a cuppa.
Waiting for the water to boil, she glanced around the room. With cinnamon scrolls, chocolate chip cookies, and her special rum-soaked gingernut log setting in the fridge, along with the stew she was in the middle of prepping for their dinner, her efforts had been well worth it, although the kitchen resembled a disaster zone. So too did her clothes. She could only imagine the state of her hair and face. Licking the beaters after mixing the butter, cinnamon and brown sugar together had been unavoidable, as had taking a few sneaky mouthfuls of biscuit dough as she’d been rolling it.
The sound of footsteps approaching down the hallway caught her attention. Wiping her lips and cheeks, in case of sugary remnants, she turned around to see Morgan standing at the threshold, looking oh so handsome, his arms full of the roses they’d ordered.
‘Wowsers.’ Lifting his sunglasses to the top of his head, he looked her up and down. ‘Who won, you or the kitchen?’ He placed the fifty roses onto the dining table.
She grinned, then grimaced. ‘I reckon it’s a tie.’
‘Ha, go you.’ He closed the distance between them and sniffed in deep. ‘It smells bloody amazing in here.’
Jess chuckled, taking a deep breath in too. ‘Thanks, I’ve been experimenting with some new recipes, and refining a few favourites too.’ He was standing so close to her, she couldn’t help but admire his rugged good looks, and the way his button-up shirt clung to his muscular frame.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. ‘Well, I think I need a taste test to confirm how good things really are.’
Jess felt her heart race as she regarded his piercing blue eyes. ‘Sure, I’ll grab you a plate,’ she replied, trying to keep her voice, and knees, steady.
With two plates retrieved from the cupboard, she turned back towards him, not realising that he’d stepped up behind her. They smacked into one another. Morgan reached out to steady her, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment longer than necessary. She felt her heart skip a beat as she looked up at him. His eyes searched hers, and she felt herself getting lost in their blue depths.
Noooooo, Jess, don’t!
