All They Need(71)

“Poor you.”

He was grinning shamelessly as he pulled her close for a quick kiss. “So, where am I taking you?”

“It’s the first Sunday of the month, so the market is on in the village if you want to see what’s happening?”

“Great. I’ve been meaning to hunt down the driftwood guy you mentioned.”

They took Flynn’s car and were forced to park on a side street because the shopping center lot was full to overflowing. A series of stalls were set up on the village green and they paid the small entry fee to the Lions Club volunteer at a makeshift booth on the walkway then began a slow trawl of the stalls. A few minutes in, Flynn slid his arm around her shoulders. A rush of emotion welled up inside her as her hip bumped his and they automatically adjusted their gaits to suit.

She’d forgotten how good it felt to spend time with someone who genuinely liked her, someone who treated her with respect and warm affection. Crazy to think that toward the end of her marriage the only place she and Owen had touched voluntarily had been in the bedroom.

The driftwood man wasn’t at the market this month for some reason, so they settled on buying a loaf of sourdough bread, a jar of homemade jam and a bag of crisp red apples before finding a table at Pop and Selma’s Café. They ordered an omelette and pancakes and ate half each—another couple pleasure she’d forgotten—then walked slowly to the car, talking and laughing.

They sat on the back porch at her place and ate apples and drank coffee, then Flynn drew her into his lap and she discovered how talented he was at getting inside her clothes with the least fuss possible. They tumbled back into bed and it was late in the evening by the time Flynn dressed and left for Melbourne. Mel stood on the porch huddled in her dressing gown long after his taillights had faded into the night, feeling dazed, her body a little tender.

Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she entered her house. It felt empty now that he was gone—a dangerous acknowledgement. She saw the light was flashing on the answering machine as she passed the study on her way to the bedroom. She stepped into the room and hit the play button.



“It’s me. Call me when you get a chance, okay?” It was Justine, her voice carefully neutral.

It was too late to call now, thank God. Mel didn’t particularly want to fend off her sister’s well-intentioned inquisition. Not right now, anyway. She was still coming down to earth after twenty-four hours of amazing sex.

It was more than amazing sex and you know it.

She did, but she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She was already edging her way toward a precipice she’d promised never to approach again. It was enough that she’d let Flynn into her life. The rest she would deal with later.

Much later.



FLYNN COULDN’T GET the smile off his face as he took the freeway back to Melbourne. Mel was…

He didn’t have the words. Beautiful, sexy, funny, warm, earthy, challenging, smart, adorable. Okay, he had a few words, but none of them felt adequate to the task of describing how he felt when he was with her. She made him feel more. More alive. More aware. More present. She made him want more, too. But he was smart enough to know not to push things with her. Not in that way. Not yet.

So he resisted the urge to call her just to hear her voice before he went to bed, and he resisted the urge to call her first thing the next morning. His self-discipline failed at lunchtime, however, when his inbox chimed and he saw he had a message from her.

Just checking that you got back okay and that Gertie behaved herself.

He pushed aside the marketing brochure he was reading and pulled his keyboard toward himself.



Gertie behaved. I arrived. When can I see you again?

There was a short pause before she responded.

What suits you? I can come up to town if it’s easier for you.

With his crazy workload it was easier, and they settled on the following evening—dinner out then back to his place for what he hoped was the night. He booked the local Thai place and made a mental note to change the sheets. Then he dove into work with renewed enthusiasm.

Mel was coming. She was going to stay at his place. She was allowing him in.

He left work on time for the first time in months the following evening. His assistant stared at him as he walked past, coat over his arm.

“Do you have a dinner meeting?” She started checking his diary, a frown on her face.

“I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mary.”