Page 51 of Where the Wattles Bloom

Rowena blinked. ‘His name is Colin?’

‘Sure, now we’ve established he’s a dude, I reckon he looks like a Colin. What do you think?’

‘I think Douggy’s daughter would be proud.’

They laughed and the wheel started with a lurch before they were lifted gently into the air. The sounds from the ground fell away, the music and buzz of the crowd a mere soundtrack now as the motor hummed and the metal squeaked around them and the breeze ruffled her hair.

It was a little chilly, her nipples beading in response, but she didn’t feel cold. She was far too close to Lachlan’s big body, which was pumping out heat beside her at a rate of knots. Not to mention the intoxicating effect of his aftershave, warmed to an incense-like haze, eddying around her on the breeze.

They were at the top before she knew it, their gondola swinging a little as the wheel creaked to a stop. She looked out, the view encompassing the movement and colour of the entire showgrounds. The elegantly lit pavilions, the garish, chaotic neon of sideshow alley, the erratic shimmer of glow sticks from bleachers crammed with spectators.

Absently rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Rowena let out a little happy sigh, the light winter wind blowing strands of hair across her face as easily as it carried away the sounds below. The Acacia Junction show may not have the numbers or the variety of a big city equivalent, but it sure was pretty up here.

‘You’re cold.’

She turned her head to look at him, the wind ruffling his hair, too. ‘I’m fine,’ she dismissed with a shake of her head.

But he was already shrugging out of his Country Road jacket and pressing it around her shoulders. Rowena opened her mouth to protest again, but his warmth and the heady scent of him enveloped her, and she lost the will to part with either pretty damn quick.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘You won’t get cold?’ Given he felt like a furnace beside her, she doubted it, but his cotton button-down didn’t look that substantial.

‘Nah. Me and Colin, we have testosterone to keep us warm.’

They both looked at Colin’s huge, overstuffed, man-spread blankness and laughed. The gondola rocked rhythmically, creaking back and forth.

‘Amiright, dude? Fist bump.’ Lachlan offered his fist to the bear, who stared with beady eyes and a fixed, surprised expression at nowhere in particular, and Rowena laughed again.

A voice over a loudspeaker interrupted, announcing the imminent start of the fireworks, and Rowena returned her attention to the centre ring, angling her body in the direction of the show.

‘Here we go,’ he murmured, his voice near her ear, the warmth of his breath fanning the side of her neck as he angled himself too, his front close to her back, his arm sliding along the rolled edge of the seat behind her.

A pop soundtrack blared out, but she was only really conscious of him. Until the first rocket fired into the air, anyway, the noise hitting her like a hammer to the chest, grabbing her full attention as a shower of pink sparks bloomed to life in the sky.

Below them, the entire crowd sighed in delight.

Another followed, and another, until the sky was alight with greens and reds and blues. A flurry of frothing white sparkles spewed from the ground before more pyrotechnics shot high, erupting into bright starbursts of colour overhead.

The crowd oohed and ahhed, and Rowena found herself just as much in thrall. And that felt good. It was hard to believe that a few months ago she’d been in a very different place, her ability to feel this level of … joy, non-existent.

And now here she was, hanging in the sky, feeling every pop and sparkle like bubbles of champagne in her blood. So she revelled in it, lapping up the spectacular sight with all the wonder of a firework virgin, her pulse fluttering.

Although that could possibly have something to do with her Ferris wheel companion.

‘Oh,’ she sighed ten minutes later as the finale of sparks finally faded from the sky, the smoky haze blown away on the wind. ‘That was so pretty.’ She turned back to face him and he shifted to accommodate her, his arm staying firmly along the back of the chair. ‘Wasn’t it?’

His smile was as warm as the rest of him. ‘Indeed.’

But the way he was looking at her left her in no doubt he wasn’t just talking about the fireworks. Suddenly, it felt like they were the only two people in Acacia Junction, swinging in a creaky gondola above the earth.

Well … except for Colin.

Lachlan’s gaze dropped to her mouth and Rowena’s lips actually tingled. Her fluttering pulse was definitely all about her companion now. The colourful strip lighting that decorated both the outside and inside of the wheel structure lit his face, emphasising that jaw and those soft blond whiskers.

Slowly, he lifted his hand, his fingers picking up a strand of hair that had blown across her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her breath hitched as a surge of desire every bit as potent as the one she’d felt in her hotel room at The Stockman lit her up like a torch.

It was a bloody wonder the gondola hadn’t combusted from how much heat they were producing.

He didn’t remove his hand, it just stayed there, cupping her face, his thumb a slow, lazy caress across her cheekbone as his eyes held hers unwaveringly.