The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,25
what it was—makeup and real clothes instead of workout gear. Small changes, but enough to make him realize something he hadn’t admitted to himself before tonight. She was an attractive woman. Verging on beautiful, with her delicate features and striking blue eyes.
He offered her the bottle. “Not sure if you’re a red or white person or an equal-opportunity wine swiller like myself, but this looked good.”
She examined the label. “It is. One of my favorite local vineyards, actually.”
She gestured for him to enter, making him clue in to the fact he was still hovering on the doorstep like a nervous schoolboy. He shrugged, feeling stupid and self-conscious, and stepped into her small entryway. Strudel strained at her leash, eager to cavort more fulsomely with her new beau.
“Hope you like pasta. And I bought a lemon tart for dessert,” Mackenzie said.
“Sounds great.” It did, too. Lunch had been hours ago, a cheese and Vegemite sandwich he’d shoved into his face one-handed while sorting through one of the many boxes of books in the back bedroom. “Is it okay if I let Strudel off the leash?” Before she choked to death trying to get at Mr. Smith.
“Of course.”
He unclipped the lead and Strudel and Mr. Smith rampaged down the hall, disappearing in no seconds flat.
“No worries, guys, we’re cool. We can look after ourselves,” Mackenzie called after them.
He smiled at her wry tone. “Hard not to feel like chopped liver sometimes, eh?”
“I think Smitty would be more interested in chopped liver, to be honest.”
She led the way to the kitchen, her perfume leaving a scented wake.
“I never got around to asking, is this a permanent move for you or have you bought next door as a holiday place?” she asked as she opened the fridge and extracted a bottle of wine.
Let the small talk begin.
“Neither, actually. Marion was my aunt, and she left the place to me and my brother. We’re both Sydney based so we decided it was best to sell.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss. I know it was a while ago, but she was a great old bird. I used to enjoy chatting with her over the fence whenever I was down here. I was really sad when I heard she’d died.”
“Thanks. To be honest, I didn’t know her that well. She lived so far away, we didn’t see her much. Mostly it was Christmas cards and the occasional phone call.”
“Right.”
He thought over what she’d said. “Does that mean you don’t live here permanently, then? I thought you were a local.”
“I’m a city girl. But I’ve been masquerading as a local for the past few months so I can concentrate on my rehab.” She handed him a glass of wine. “So you’re the sucker who gets to prepare the house for sale, huh?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“That’s a big job. Your aunt had me over for tea a couple of times and that place is stuffed with furniture.”
“And books and clothes and knickknacks. Then there’s the shed out the back.”
“You’re a good brother,” she said.
“Not really. It suited me to get away for a few weeks, that’s all.”
She raised her glass. “To being temporary neighbors, then.”
He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “Cheers.”
“Grab a seat while I make this happen.” She waved him toward the stools parked beneath the overhang on one side of the counter.
He sat and watched as she moved around the kitchen, setting water to boil and washing a bunch of parsley. There was a restrained energy to her actions, as though she was constantly holding herself in check. Or perhaps it was her injuries that were doing that. He wondered what she’d been like before the accident.
Unstoppable, he suspected.
His gaze dropped and he couldn’t help noting her small, round backside again. He wondered what it would feel like in his hands.
He forced himself to look away. He wasn’t the kind of guy who went around checking out women and wondering what they looked like naked. He didn’t make a habit of it, anyway. Yet somehow his thoughts always seemed to head in that direction when he was with Mackenzie. Even though she wasn’t his type.
“So, what do you do when you’re not clearing out old furniture?” Mackenzie asked.
“I’m a sound engineer. My business partner, Rex, and I have a small recording studio.”
Her gaze was bright and assessing. “What sort of things do you work on? Music, commercial stuff?”
“A bit of everything, but mostly session work for albums.”