Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast - Lilly Mirren Page 0,64

when he saw who was calling.

“Ethan, how are you mate?”

He would’ve been better if Marc hadn’t called at that exact moment. “Great thanks, how about you?”

“I’m good. Listen, I won’t keep you but there’s been a development in your case I thought you’d want to know about.”

Ethan straightened in his chair, his breath in his throat. “Okay.”

“I’ve had several long conversations with the crown prosecutor, and she says that if you come in and give the police a statement, everything you know about what was going on over at Mammoth, they’ll drop the charges against you.”

Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s great, but I don’t know anything.”

“Then, tell them that. I think they realised that they don’t have any evidence that you’re involved, so they want to get whatever they can from you. The charges will go away as soon as you cooperate.”

“Wow, Marc — thank you so much. I don’t know what to say… that’s amazing. I couldn’t have done this without you, mate. I owe you.”

Relief coursed through his body, and his breathing returned to a normal pace. The charges would be dropped. As the tension dissipated from his shoulders and neck, he realised how much strain the threat of prosecution had put on his body. He’d thought he was coping fine with it all, but as he hung up the phone emotions welled up within him. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Emily.

He opened his eyes, met her gaze. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. They’re not going to press charges against me over the Mammoth fraud, as long as I go back up to Brisbane and give the police a statement.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s great news. Congratulations, Ethan. I’m so happy for you.”

He stood to his feet, pumped his hands in the air. “Yes! Oh wow, that’s a load off.”

Emily stood too, smiling so that her eyes gleamed.

She was close to him, close enough that he couldn’t look away. Her eyes were the kind of grey that reminded him of the ocean during a summer storm. Wide and grey they fixed on his, he was caught up in their depths. His pulse hammered, heat traveled up his body and made his head spin.

“Emily… I…” He reached for her, pulling her close.

When their lips met, his breath caught in his throat. His heart thundered in his chest so loud that every other sound faded away. His eyes drifted shut as she stood to curl her arms around his neck, moaning softly as she fell against him.

She tasted like chocolate and wine and smelled of vanilla. Her body against his was lithe, soft, and shivered against him like the waves curling to shore.

Sarah

Oscar sat on her foot and Sarah sighed. “No, Oscar honey, you’re supposed to go forward when I say ‘forward’. We practiced sitting. Ugh. He’s never gonna get this.”

She shook her head and Vicky laughed. “I don’t think Oscar’s really the rule-following type. I think he knows exactly what you’re wanting him to do, but he’s making a point.”

“Can’t he make a point while the dog whisperer isn’t watching us?” she whispered in a pained voice. “Come on, Oscar, Ruben’s looking over here in complete disgust at my dog whispering skills. I’m going to fail puppy training, dude, and it’s all your fault.”

“I don’t know if you can put all of the blame on Oscar for this one, Sar, he isn’t exactly a puppy, so this might not be the right class for him.”

Sarah’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, let’s do some more sitting then.”

She glanced up to see Meg and her new puppy Walton, acing the test by walking in a straight line around a red cone and heading back to where they’d begun.

“Sit, Walton,” said Meg. The tiny cavalier sat, held its head high and let out a sniff — or at least it seemed that way to Sarah. Walton was showing off.

Sarah groaned. “You’re being humiliated, Oscar. Don’t you even care?”

“I don’t think he cares,” replied Vicky, scrolling on her phone.

“Don’t feel too badly,” said Meg with a chuckle. “Ruben says that Walton is a prodigy.”

“Can you have dog prodigies?” asked Sarah, her brow furrowed.

Vicky laughed without looking up from her phone. “I’m staying out of this one.”

“But you’re the vet!” objected Sarah.

Vicky shook her head. “I’m not getting involved in who is or is not a puppy prodigy.”

“Always the peacemaker,” complained Sarah. “Up, Oscar, up. Stand up boy.”

Oscar ignored her and continued sitting and staring at the horizon without