Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(114)

“I know,” Gemma said. “But there’s no point pretending this isn’t a really big change.”

“So, take the sabbatical?”

She’d shrugged, then nodded. “I think it depends on what feels right to you. But there’s no harm in keeping your bridges intact. Just in case.”

So that door remained open, for now, but Falk found he never even glanced at it.

Instead, he went for long walks, wandering hand in hand with Gemma, Luna at their heels. Every day at the vineyard was different, and absorbing the layered operations that wove together to form the business was challenging and engaging. There was plenty to be done, both indoors and out, and Falk had always been a fast learner. Shane had not had to touch a spreadsheet for months and remained deeply grateful. Falk often stayed for a drink with him and Charlie before heading home, beer for them, ice water for Shane.

Falk had lived in the guesthouse on the vineyard at first, he and Gemma both agreeing it was better to take things slowly. She’d helped him unpack, sitting on the bed and leafing through his favorite novels. She’d borrowed a couple he’d recommended and invited him back to her place for dinner. Falk had turned up, then barely left. After two months, they’d given up the pretense, and he’d packed up his belongings and books once more, driven to the cottage, parked under the shade of the eucalyptus trees, and moved in for good.

Falk had learned his way around her kitchen, and he and Gemma spent early evenings opening and shutting drawers and passing each other sieves and pans and wooden spoons. He found out her favorite things to cook and had a crack at them himself with increasing success. They listened to music and opened good bottles of local wine and ate together at the table with the doors open to let in the warm night air. Afterward, they’d sit on the veranda tackling the cryptic crossword online and watching the summer evening glow turn into night. Sex was regular and enthusiastic. He wore jeans to work. He shaved once a week.

Falk walked home now with Luna along the back roads, pausing as he passed the park and the oval. Shane had been on holiday from the vineyard for the past fortnight, and Falk could see him kicking a football around with Naomi’s three kids. She was lounging on a nearby bench, beautiful in her autumn jacket and dark jeans, half watching, half scrolling idly through her phone. She smiled and raised a hand as she spotted Falk, and he wandered over to join her.

“Hey.” She shifted up to make room. “You’ve reminded me, I’ve got Joel’s sleeping bag to return. I’ll drop it by this weekend.”

“I don’t think there’s any rush,” Falk said. “How was the big camping trip?”

“It was good, thanks.” Naomi smiled as her eyes followed Shane across the oval. “I mean, not the camping itself, obviously. That was bloody hideous. But the trip was fun. Kids enjoyed it. Shane and I had a nice time.”

“Great. Glad it’s going well,” Falk said.

“Yeah.” Naomi certainly looked happy these days. “I’m sure Shane’ll have a few choice stories about camping to fill you all in on at the Sunday barbe—”

“Hey!” Shane slowed as he ran past, three kids trailing him. He pointed at Falk. “You. Don’t forget, training starts Monday.”

“Yep, mate. I remember,” Falk called back, but Shane had already gone.

“Looking forward to it?” Naomi said.

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you worried your footy skills won’t be up to scratch and the other boys will make fun of you?”

Falk laughed. “Yes, obviously, Naomi. That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

“It’s a team of middle-aged men raised on wine and cheese. Trust me.” She patted his arm. “You’ll be more than fine.”

Joel was out in the back garden when Falk got home, swinging gently in the hammock with his arm around a girl. They were barefoot and lying on their backs, her long hair splayed out, talking softly together and gazing at the clouds. Gemma was absently stirring something on the stove while looking up the answers to yesterday’s crossword.

“That ten-letter one was antipodean, by the way,” she said, leaning over to kiss him as he put his keys on the counter. “Which is so annoying. We should have gotten that.”

“We really should have.” Falk looked over her shoulder to see for himself, then nodded at the stove. “You need help here?”

“No, all good. Go out and meet Molly.” She nodded toward the teenagers outside. “She’s very nice. And it’ll put Joel out of his misery. He’s desperate for you two to hit it off.”

Falk laughed. “I’m sure we will. Not that it’ll matter. He obviously likes her; he’s not going to care what I think.”

“You don’t think so?” Gemma said mildly as she stirred and continued to scroll through the crossword answers.

So Falk made sure Joel knew he did like Molly, which was true. He liked the fact she obviously cared about Joel, for a start. They discovered they were currently reading the same book, and Falk lent her the author’s previous one. She was a little shy at first, but clearly very smart, studying a technology subject that hadn’t even existed when Falk was at uni.

“See, this is why I’m glad I’m not still battling it out in California,” Gemma whispered after dinner as they loaded the dishwasher. “I slept in the office for two nights once trying to get something to work that Molly has literally just done on her phone. She said she learned that code in high school. Unbelievable. I feel a thousand years old.”