Chapter Seventeen
“No way!” Helena’s voice rose, and she tapped her fan on Liam’s shoulder. “That old nag has no chance. Take my advice and put your money on Ted’s ‘Lucky Streak.’”
“Listen to your grandmother, Liam,” Pop said. “That horse is going to romp it in.”
Liam laughed and nudged Sebastian. “What do you reckon, Seb? I reckon old Sam would have a better chance than that old fellow of Ted’s winning.”
“I’m with Liam, Gran.” Sebastian’s eyes were twinkling. “You’re gonna do your dough.”
Helena folded her arms and smiled. “I’ve never once lost money at the races.”
“There’s always a first time.” Sebastian laughed when he received a tap of the fan for that comment. “You’ve got no chance this year.”
Happy banter and the opinions on the chances of each horse winning the J O’Brien Memorial Come-By-Chance cup filled the air as the family argued about which horses to bet on. As Isabella stood and listened to the men tease their grandmother, she felt a tap on her shoulder and Lucy squealed.
“Oh yes, Isabella.” Her squeal was echoed by the congratulations of those around her as the man who had tapped Isabella made his way to a young woman sitting in the next group.
“What did that mean?” Isabella looked back at Sebastian who was standing behind her chair. Every time he leaned over to speak to Liam or Garth, his arm brushed her shoulder or his head was almost cheek to cheek with hers. A woodsy aftershave tickled her nose when he was close. “Lucy? Seb?”
“Sorry, Bella. What did you say?” Sebastian’s breath whispered across her cheek as Lucy continued to jump up and down, clapping her hands.
“I asked what it meant when that man over there carrying the clipboard tapped my shoulder and Lucy squealed.”
“I don’t know.” He turned to Garth. “Garth, what’s Lucy so excited about?”
Lucy grabbed her husband’s arm. “Gosh, I forgot none of you have been here before…or in Seb’s case, too long ago to remember how it works.” She held her hand up to high-five Isabella. “You’ve made the final of Miss Come-by-Chance. I knew you would!”
Before Isabella could protest, her father hurried across, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up. He flung his arms around her. Isabella tottered on her heels and Sebastian grabbed for her hand.
“Oh, Bella. Well done,” her father said as he hugged her. “I’m so proud of you. In the final, you are!”
She was surrounded by the family group, either patting her on the shoulder or kissing her cheek.
“We haven’t had a finalist since Lucy was in high school,” Gran said. Soft fingers took Isabella’s and cool lips brushed across her cheek; she was surrounded by Lily of the Valley perfume. She’d been about to protest that she didn’t want to go in it until Dad had come over and hugged her. Now she didn’t have the heart to disappoint everyone.
“Well,” she paused and took a deep breath. “Thank you, everyone, you’ll have to tell me what to do.”
“Just stand there and look beautiful.” Despite the hot wind, Sebastian’s voice sent a shiver to her toes.
As she looked away, she noticed Gran and Lucy sharing a look.
…
The first two races had been run, and the judging was about to take place. The crowd was happy and his whole family, including Gran and Pop, had come over to cheer for Isabella as the judging took place. Sebastian lifted his camera and snapped the finalists standing on the small verandah of the tiny building that was the Come-by-Chance race club. In his opinion, Isabella was a shoo-in. But he was biased. The other women up there were elegantly dressed, too. But no one was as pretty as Isabella. He grinned, letting his gaze linger on her legs and down to those gorgeous shoes that had made it necessary for him to hold her hand for a good fifteen minutes as they’d walked through the crowd. He’d been hard-pressed not to puff out his chest as quite a few envious glances had come his way, and it was pretty clear that Isabella was with him.
And he was really happy by that. And the flirting had been mutual.
He lifted his camera and zoomed in on her face. Her eyes were wide and alight with happiness, and her lips were parted. A pink flush tinged her cheeks, and that sexy veil covering half of her face sent a rush surging through him.
It was a damn shame she wasn’t here to stay, because he was falling for her.
Yep, falling for her. He finally admitted it to himself. For the first time in his life, a woman was in his thoughts day and night. Up until now, his love life had been occasional with a rapid turnaround. He’d had a few casual relationships. Ever since he’d lost his mother he’d been hesitant about trusting his heart to anyone. But really, he had never been seriously tempted.
Until now.
He was pretty sure his interest in Isabella was reciprocated, and he lowered the camera thoughtfully. But she was leaving, so maybe he should pull back a bit with the flirting.
Why couldn’t they have met when he was in Florence?
But then what was wrong with having a fling while she was here? That would get her out of his system and he could focus on the farm.
Maybe that’s why he was having trouble settling down now.
Yes, that’s it!
If he had a fling with Isabella, once she left, he’d be able to devote his attention to the farm.
He looked over at her, caught her eye, and gave her a thumbs-up as the judging spokesperson walked to the verandah and took the microphone.
The gorgeous smile she returned almost melted his heart.
No, not his heart. His heart was not involved.
…
Isabella stood self-consciously beside the other young women. She felt like a bit of a fraud, not being a local, but no one seemed to mind. The mood of the picnic races was happy, and a couple of girls she’d gone to high school with had come up and congratulated her as she’d made her way up to the platform. The MC blew into the microphone and it crackled and squawked. The crowd quieted as he held up his hand.
“I’m sure you’re all keen to get to those picnic tables,” he said. “But first we have to announce the winners for this year. They all look gorgeous, what do you think? How about a round of applause for these lovely ladies?”
Not only was there clapping but many a wolf whistle filled the air.
“First up, the winner of Fashion of the Fields is Jeanette Perkins. Well done, Jettie!”
Applause filled the air as the winning lady made her way to the front.
“Now, unfortunately, there can only be one winner of Miss Come-By-Chance, but we do have a lovely runner-up today. Erin Nickleby, you look stunning. Congratulations.”
A surge of relief ran through Isabella, and she smiled as Shirley from the milk bar stepped up and presented the two women with a small posy of flowers.
Erin and Jeannette waved to the crowd as the cheers got louder.
Isabella held her fascinator as a huge gust of wind shook the building behind them.
“Now it gives me great pleasure to announce Miss Come-by Chance for 2017.”
Sebastian was staring at Isabella, and she focused on him. He tipped his hat back and his dark eyes were intense as he held her gaze. The noise of the crowd faded as she stared back. He nodded slightly, and she shook her head. She really hoped it wasn’t her.
“Isabella Romano. Congratulations!”
The smile on Sebastian’s face got wider, and Isabella shook her head again. Oh my God, she was Miss Come-by-Chance. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips.
Shirley came over and put a ribbon over her shoulder. “Well done, love,” she said in her husky smoker’s voice. “Look at your dad. He’s jumping up and down.”
Isabella looked at her father and decided to enjoy the moment. It was an honour, and it obviously meant a lot to the locals. And it would be a story to tell.
After a flurry of congratulations, she walked across the stage clutching the huge bouquet of flowers Shirley had given her.
Lucy grabbed her in a tight hug. “See, I had great taste in helping you shop, didn’t I?”
Isabella laughed and smiled as Helena and Harry stood on either side of her.
“Photo, please Sebastian,” his grandmother called out. Once the photo was taken, she leaned in and brushed her lips across Isabella’s cheek. “Well done, Bella.”
Dad came in for a photo, too, looking so proud, Isabella couldn’t help but smile.
Five minutes of having her photo taken with what seemed like dozens of people, the crowd thinned as they moved over to the picnic tables.
“Oh, I have to unpack the coolers,” she said.
“We’ll go and make a start. Come on, Gran,” Lucy said.
“Sebastian, you help Bella over that rough ground again,” Helena said and nudged Bella.
Sebastian walked over as the journalist from the local paper took her details. Isabella was conscious of his gaze on her as she answered the questions. Finally, it was done, and it was only Sebastian standing there with her. She watched curiously as he lifted his camera strap from his neck and put his camera carefully on the wooden floor.
“Is it flat already?” she said with a laugh. “Too many photos of me. I’m embarrassed.”
He stepped closer and shook his head. “No, it’s fine, but I wanted to congratulate you properly.”
“Properly?” She lifted her face as he put his arms around her.
“May I?”
Before she could reply, warm lips descended on hers, and he held her close against him. Isabella closed her eyes as Sebastian kissed her.
The rest of the world disappeared as he slid his lips slowly across hers. The noise of the crowd, the dusty wind, and the neighing of the horses in the stalls all faded as warmth suffused her.
After a full minute, she pulled her head back and he smiled down at her.
“Congratulations, Miss Come-by-Chance.” His voice oozed sexy, and a lovely little quiver ran rampant in her tummy. Before she could reply, a shrill whistle came from the direction of the picnic tables.
“Go, Seb!” Liam’s voice was full of encouragement. Isabella and Sebastian turned and she groaned. His whole family was watching.
And Dad.