Beauty from Pain (Beauty, #1)(26)

I’m his for the next three months and I’m prepared for what that means. It’s clear he has boundaries, and he’s told me what he expects from me. I’m stoked about my sudden epiphany and stop dead in my tracks. “This relationship … I get it now. I get why it works.”

He smiles but still asks me for an explanation. “Tell me what you get.”

I think he wants to hear me say the words, and I’m okay with that. “Because we have no pretenses and clear expectations, I don’t feel pressured to be anything but me. I have no worries about what today, tomorrow, or next month means for us because I already know.”

He reaches for my face and strokes his thumbs over my cheeks. He’s beaming as he watches my eyes. “You get it full circle now—what I want and need from you.”

I see how delighted he is and I realize something. Pleasing this man brings me pleasure. Common sense tells me I should be frightened by that, but for some reason, I’m not.

We go back to the cave after our walk and he drives us back to the house. I think about the things he has planned for tonight. I know he has something in mind because this man doesn’t fly by the seat of his pants. He’s done this enough to be calculating, his every move premeditated.

We get to the house and he drops me off by the door while he parks the ATV. I take the picnic basket to the counter to unload it and put the dirty dishes and utensils in the dishwasher. Any other time, I suspect Lachlan would leave the mess for Mrs. Porcelli. Since she isn’t here, I make it my job.

When he enters the kitchen, I’m loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but now it’s done and we don’t have to worry about it.”

He opens the refrigerator and takes out two bottles of beer. He twists the tops off and pushes one across the counter to me. It’s an unexpected surprise, but I guess it’s presumptuous of me to think he only drinks wine. “Have a coldie with me.”

Wine drinking is a lot of work. Beer drinking is more my speed. I reach for the amber bottle and sip without holding it up to the light or sniffing it. I don’t swish it in my mouth to judge its aftertaste. I simply drink and enjoy it because that’s all you have to do.

I check out the label and see it’s an Australian brand. I like it and it goes down smoothly. “Nothin’ like an ice cold beer.”

He reaches for my free hand and tugs on it. “Come into the living room with me so we can talk and relax.” I follow him and we sit side by side on the couch. He’s close enough that his leg brushes mine and I feel like a teenager all over again. The simple touch thrills me beyond belief. “I’m sorry about bailing on you yesterday.”

“It’s fine. I understand that it wasn’t your choice.”

He rests his free hand on my bare thigh and begins to work my muscle like a professional masseur. “What did you end up doing?”

“Addison and I went shopping, which was probably the wrong thing to do considering Christmas is in three days.”

“Did you buy anything?”

“A few things.” I smile when I think of the lingerie. I didn’t know if it would get any use when I decided to blow my budget by buying it, but now I’m certain it will, and I can’t wait.

“I haven’t been in town long, but Wagga Wagga doesn’t seem to have a lot of great places to shop.”

He’s right. The shopping choices aren’t great. I’m used to Nashville. It’s home to all the biggest country stars so places to shop are endless. “It’s a little limited when compared to what I’m used to.”

He’s stroking my leg as he talks about Wagga Wagga, but I zone out for a minute because I’m remembering what he did to me in the cave. I hear him saying something about Sydney and I force myself back into the conversation just in time to hear his invitation. “I have tickets for Madama Butterfly in February in Sydney. Will you go with me and let me take you shopping?”

He’s asking me to make plans with him two months from now, and I realize this relationship gives me the ability to accept his offer without worry about what will happen between now and then. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

He probably thinks I like opera because I’m a musician, but he’d be wrong. I’m not a fan, but I don’t tell him this because he seems happy about taking me.

We finish our beers and have two more while we talk about everything and nothing at the same time. He tells me more about his life, but he’s guarded and I wonder if he’s telling me half-truths.

I hear “Jolene” by Dolly Parton playing inside my purse. It’s my mom’s ringtone and I’m not sure it’s wise to talk to her after having a few beers, but I decide I should probably answer since I’ve only spoken to her once since I arrived in Australia.

I reach for my purse and apologize to Lachlan. “I’m sorry. This is my mom calling, so I should probably answer.”

“Don’t apologize.”

I take out my singing phone and I’m reminded of the one Lachlan sent me. Neither of us has brought it up yet. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to thank him for it or not. It’s a weird situation. Not thanking him feels rude, so I’ll think that one over later. Right now, I have to talk to Jolie Prescott.