All They Need(78)

He knew Mel’s marriage had been unhappy. She’d intimated that her ex had been critical, maybe even controlling. The day they’d had lunch together she’d also implied that Owen Hunter’s parents had not approved of their marriage and that she’d never fit in with the Melbourne society set.

Not a good picture, any of it. And he could understand why Mel might be gun-shy. He wished he knew more about what she was thinking, how she was feeling, because he was about as committed as it was possible to get. Had been for some time now. For the first time in his life, he was truly in love. Mel was the woman he’d been waiting his whole life to find. Everything in him wanted to sweep her off her feet and put things in motion to start the rest of their lives together.

But only an idiot would ignore the subtle and not-so-subtle signals that Mel was broadcasting. She’d been reluctant to acknowledge their attraction from the very beginning, and even though he’d been hoping that what had happened between them last weekend would have put paid to some of her doubts, it was clear that she was still very much feeling her way as far as their relationship was concerned.



He was going to have to be patient, and he was going to have to let Mel set the pace. It chafed the impetuous idiot boy in him, but at the end of the day, as long as they wound up at the same destination, he was willing to take as circuitous a route as Mel required. Whatever it took.

Because she was worth it. A million times over.



THE NEXT DAY they both woke early. After a quick shower, they walked into the village and bought croissants and pain au chocolat from the local bakery and ate them during the walk to Summerlea. He still had her brush-cutter in his garage, and Mel insisted on borrowing her brother-in-law’s machine as well so they could tackle the blackberry brambles in tandem. By the time they were finished they had a huge pile of severed canes and a large collection of cuts, scratches and splinters between them. Walking to the house with Mel at his side, his muscles aching pleasantly from a day of physical activity, Flynn had a vision of how the rest of his life could look—the two of them working here at Summerlea, restoring the garden to its former glory, restoring the house, growing together. It felt so close, so achievable, as though he could almost reach out and touch it.

“I was thinking of inviting my parents down next weekend to show them around the place,” he said as they stored the equipment in the garage.

Mel shot him a quick, startled look before her expression smoothed into polite interest. “I didn’t realize they hadn’t seen it yet.”

“Between one thing and another, I haven’t had the chance to have them down yet. I was thinking we could do a bit of a tour here, then go to one of the local wineries for lunch. What do you think?”

“It sounds lovely. I can recommend a few places for you if you like. I always get good feedback from guests who try the restaurant at Paringa Estate, and I’ve been hearing good things about La Pétanque, too.”

“So which day would suit you better? Saturday or Sunday?”

She gave a funny little shrug. “Sorry, but next weekend isn’t great for me. Rex has got this thing at his school and I promised to help out.”

“How about the following weekend?”

She pushed her thick plait back over her shoulder. “Don’t change your plans on my account. I’m sure your parents are keen to see this money pit that you’ve bought.”

“Sure. But I’d like them to meet you, too,” he said.

Her smile was forced. “They can meet me any old time. Seriously, don’t put them off for my sake.”

He studied her a moment, tempted to push. Then he had a flash of her standing naked and shivering in his bathroom last night, fleeing from a bad dream she wouldn’t share with him.

“Okay, sure. Why not?” he said easily.

Her shoulders dropped visibly with relief. Just as well he’d already had a conversation with himself about being patient, otherwise his ego would be in the gutter right about now.

They went inside the house together and, because he couldn’t resist, he slid an arm around her shoulders. The tight feeling in his gut loosened as she leaned readily into the contact, resting her head briefly on his shoulder as her arm slid around his waist.

Slow and steady wins the race, he reminded himself.

Slow and steady.





GUILT ATE AT Mel for the rest of the weekend. No matter how many times she told herself she hadn’t technically been lying when she said she was busy the following weekend, the reality was that if she’d wanted to, she could have made time to meet Flynn’s parents.