Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,162

outside as though she had done it a hundred times before and, suddenly feeling small and delicate next to his strong, towering form, she followed where he led.

When the door shut behind her, the voices in the kitchen stopped and two unfamiliar faces popped around the corner of the kitchen wall.

‘Dave, Cate, this is Siena.’

Cate’s eyes glinted. ‘Aah. Kane’s princess in shining armour.’ ‘Who?’ Dave whispered.

‘The one with the green car and the green eyes, who cleaned up his scrape,’ Cate said through her teeth while coming forward and holding out her hand.

James released Siena from his secure grip and she found herself swept up in the tide as Cate drew her outside to where the gang had a barbecue heating up.

During the afternoon Siena allowed herself to see what it might feel like to be a part of James’s world, a world of car-pooling, soccer fixtures, school PTA meetings and even dreaded piano lessons.

Considering her PDA was filled with the names of dry cleaners, pedicurists and cab companies around the world, she found herself floundering to join in. But then she would catch James looking at her with an affectionate smile lingering deep within his eyes, or he would lean across her as an excuse to rub his arm against hers, and the suburban world beneath her feet would solidify once more.

As the afternoon heated up, Siena had ditched her jacket in favour of her cream lace camisole and skirt. While Dave and Matt fought over the barbecue tongs, and Cate sat on the edge of the pool dangling her feet into the cool depths, she and James found themselves alone at the long wooden outdoor table, cool in the shade of the pergola.

She took a long drag of a Corona, relishing the lick of lemon at the end of each sip.

‘Beer never tastes better than when it is drunk on a hot summer’s day in the tropics,’ James said, mirroring her thoughts exactly.

‘Who are they?’ she asked, watching as Cate flicked pool water over her husband’s bare legs.

‘Old friends. From when we were kids. I haven’t seen them in months. Entirely my fault. I’m just lucky that they were stubborn enough to come a-knocking after all this time. It seems this weekend is a lucky one for me all around.’

Siena took a deep breath through her nose and slowly, slowly eked the bubbles of beer down her tight throat.

‘So tell me about your interview,’ James said, saving her from commenting. He straddled the bench seat so that he was facing her, and she felt the whole world fade away until there was no one else of import bar her and him.

Images of Max and his white satin trousers and ridiculous house swam to the fore, but she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to know. Heck, he’d probably been there more times than she had.

So she bit the bullet and answered the question he was really asking.

‘He offered me Rome,’ she said.

James felt as though his legs had been kicked out from under him and if he hadn’t been sitting he would have been in trouble. So much for this being his lucky weekend.

‘Rome, eh?’

Siena nodded, biting at her inner lip in that way that gave him ideas.

The words don’t go! fought to escape from behind his clenched teeth. But that wasn’t his place. He barely knew her. She barely knew him. What right did he have to tell her what to do? Or even to ask her? Especially when she had that stubborn look in her eye that told him that if anybody told her what to do she would be out of there as fast as the words left his mouth.

‘That’s what you wanted, right?’ he asked, amazed he could even say the words.

She blinked, her brow furrowing. ‘It was. It is. But still I asked him to give me time to think on it. He gave me twenty-four hours. So, by this time tomorrow, my fate will be sealed one way or the other.’

And like that, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She had come straight from the interview to him. Not to the mechanic shop. Not to Rick’s house. And not to the airport.

This time she had come to him.

Suddenly this wasn’t all conjecture any more. This wasn’t a slow awakening by a beautiful woman who made him feel again. This had nothing to with any steps he had to take, twelve or otherwise.

Something big was happening between them. Both of them.

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