21 ~ DARCY

Body language experts claim you can’t really hide your emotions. The tightening under the eyes, the shift of your gaze, the unintentional positioning of your feet when asked something difficult, are all tells that give you away. But I’d endured hours of police interrogation and the mask I wore that hid my feelings slid into place these days with ease. My one overriding fear remained, and that was if Luther was concerned enough about my motives, he’d go digging through my past.

At least his threats from this morning now made sense.

“I’m sorry, Oliver. It’s a terrible story, and quite honestly Annabelle and your stepfather sound appalling. I know what it’s like to have your trust broken, and if you aren’t able to trust me, if you’d rather listen to Luther, I’ll understand. But, please believe me when I say that I’m not here to take anything from you. I’ll complete this contract then leave Waitapu.”

A mess of emotions tangled in my head that I needed time to deal with. Laid bare was every reason I couldn’t get attached to Oliver. I’d slipped. Fallen for a good man who seemed genuine with every word he said. Mentally, I’d hit my massive wall of guilt and secrets and things I didn’t want to deal with. I’d arrived in Waitapu focused on that one thing I needed right now, to salvage my career and reputation. My heart and emotions were not supposed to become involved in this rebuild I was attempting.

Oliver shouldn’t have shared. I couldn’t reciprocate without coming out of this in a worse situation than I was at my point of entry. I intended to return to the cottage but when I stood to leave, Oliver snatched my wrist.

“I believe you, Darcy. The time felt right for you to know about my past, and why Luther’s being so difficult. Don’t go rushing off to Auckland. I’m not pushing you away.”

He pulled me onto his lap. His scent and the feel of his body so familiar now it would have been easy to curl into that hard, broad chest and forget that I had my own past I should be sharing with him. Sharing now. Now, because later it would always appear as if I was deliberately keeping secrets from him.

Yet, if he found out by other means, it would feel like a betrayal, and that would destroy us, too.

Like a fractious child, I wriggled in his hold. “I need to go, please.”

“What is it? Darcy? That was my past. It bears no relevance to what we’ve started.”

“I’m becoming attached to you, and that scares me. I came here, to Waitapu, to get myself back on my feet. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, just a job and a bit of a timeout from the rough year I’ve had. Out of nowhere, we’ve fallen into this.” I waved my hands around, pulling everything around us into my abstract notion of Oliver and me.

“If you want to slow things down, we can go at your pace. But I want you to understand Luther. Protecting my back is in his DNA.”

A raw, emotional-filled laugh burst from my chest, and Oliver pulled me tighter against him. Feeling the steady thump of his heart made me wonder what it would be like to have people around who had your back. Words like solid, and reliable, came to mind. Maybe it was a smalltown thing, but watching out for each other was both honorable and expected. Luther might be explosive, but he protected his friends.

Oliver pressed his lips to the top of my head. “When I arrived home tonight, the smell of your cooking was amazing. Let’s get back to it and you can tell me about your meeting today.”

He opened his arms, and his release felt like the key to my better future. His hands took my hips, helping me stand. I gathered the glasses, Oliver picked up the wine, and by the time the base for the sauce was heating again on the stove, the things I had to hide were shut firmly away.

I added capers and fresh herbs to the sauce, stirring constantly so that it wouldn’t catch and burn.

Oliver was washing lettuce from a box of organic vegetables that waited at the door when I arrived earlier.

“They look amazing,” I said, pointing at the box.

“I get a delivery from Organicals each week. I need to tell you about that company, but first, tell me about your meeting this morning.”

As I gave him the details of the meeting, he put together a salad. It still amazed me how capable he was at preparing food. Rob found even the act of phoning for a takeout order a threat to his masculinity.

A small cardboard box held different-colored cherry tomatoes. Oliver sliced one, dipped it in this amazing single-estate olive oil and slid it into my mouth.

“Hold it there, cut side down on your tongue, don’t chew.” He watched me as if this was some sort of test. “Now press it slowly against the roof of your mouth and wait for the flavor to erupt.”

His smile spread like a sunrise as I followed his instructions. He was right. The sweetness of the tomato joined with the grassy flavor of the olive oil and melted over my tongue. I didn’t swallow until there was nothing more than the small empty cap of tomato skin left.

“That’s pretty good, Sackville. You really are spoiled for great food in this town.”

He tapped the logo on the vegetable box. “They’re an amazing company about ten miles up the river. Grow most of their produce—organic, obviously—and source what they don’t grow from other, smaller producers. They’ve been marketing the produce as weekly vegetable box deliveries. Nothing new there, but they’ve just landed a contract to supply Ron Bowen’s restaurants. They’re also helping other growers switch to organic. The company is on the cusp of something big. They’re hosting a party on Saturday night and I want you to come with me. I think you could help them out.”

“And there I thought you wanted me as arm candy,” I teased.

He laughed. “There’s nothing worthy in my motives, believe me. I want Organicals to use your PR expertise. It’s a way to keep you in Waitapu.”

My heart gave a couple of quick ‘are you listening?’ thumps that I chose to ignore. Oliver’s words suggested something permanent I couldn’t give him. “You do realize I can do that sort of work from Auckland, or Timbuktu.”

“We’re country folk, Darcy. We like the direct, hands-on approach.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” I said, because Oliver had turned me away from the stove and lifted me onto the counter.

He placed his hands inside my knees, opening my legs and shifting between them. Then he leaned right in until our noses were almost touching. “You’ve had a shitty day, Darcy. I intend to make it up to you after dinner.”

He was operating on full sexy voice, sending a shiver of desire through me. “Am I allowed to ask how?”

“Orgasms. Lots of them.”

“You’re going to fuck me back to happiness?”

“Whatever it takes. My dick is kind of magic like that.”

I burst out laughing.

“See?” he said, with a cocky grin. “Even the mention of it cheers you up.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.”