Page 45 of Where the Heart Is

She didn’t know what was worse, the stinging of her palms or the stinging in her eyes, as he gently patted her hands dry, his tenderness almost undoing her.

‘This is going to hurt,’ he murmured, as he poured antiseptic onto some cotton wool, and dabbed it on the cuts on her palm before blowing on them.

She blinked rapidly to stave off tears, overwhelmed by his solicitousness, and when he clasped her hands in his once he’d finished, his touch lingering, she wanted to bawl.

‘There. All better,’ he said, clearing the gruffness from his throat. ‘Probably best to leave them open for a while rather than bandage them.’

She managed a ‘Yeah, thanks,’ as she followed him back to the kitchen, wishing it wasn’t too early for a drink. A strong manhattan would go down very well right about now. Not that she drank often, but for the first few years after she’d left, she had a drink or two every night to take the edge off her restlessness.

She’d second-guessed herself a lot in those early days—had she done the right thing, had she been selfish, had she given up too easily—but once she started meditation and learned to release her residual tension, she never looked back. No good could come of regrets.

‘I’ll dish up the quiche. Orange juice okay?’

‘Perfect,’ she said, content to watch him bustle around the kitchen, a man comfortable in his own skin.

He poured the OJ, then slid his hands into mitts before getting the quiche out of the oven, cutting it into wedges and placing two on plates. There was something riveting in watching him take control in a way he never had. Jack had always deferred to her in all aspects of their life bar the farm. He’d been so consumed by his work that he didn’t seem to care about anything else.

It made her curious. What else had changed about this man she once thought she knew better than herself?

‘Tell me what you’ve been up to,’ she blurted, sounding nosy but not caring. For some unfathomable reason, she wanted to know everything.

‘For the last fourteen years, you mean?’

His droll response held no malice and as he placed a plate and glass in front of her, she glimpsed amusement in his eyes.

‘Yeah.’ She pointed at the delicious smelling quiche in front of her. ‘I’m guessing your newfound culinary expertise isn’t the only thing that’s changed over the years.’

He sat opposite and took his time answering—sipping at his juice, rearranging his cutlery. ‘I guess the biggest change is that I’m not wound so tight anymore. I don’t sweat the small stuff. I take time out to do things I enjoy, like gardening and popping into the Men’s Shed in town weekly.’ He shrugged, bashful. ‘You leaving gave me a wake-up call I needed. So I guess I should thank you for that, even though I didn’t see it that way at the time.’

She didn’t know whether to be affronted or flattered. ‘I’m glad you’ve found peace.’

‘What about you? What’s your life like?’

She had nothing to hide but revealing her new life to the man who’d been the centrepiece of her old left her feeling oddly vulnerable.

‘Tally Bay is like Byron, only more chill, less touristy. I have a small studio I rent from a rich couple who are never around, that’s cluttered and artsy. I paint and earn money from what I sell and subsidise my income by working part time in a juice bar.’

His eyebrows rose and she laughed. ‘Yeah, I work alongside hip young things who think they invented blending ginger and turmeric with fruit for health benefits.’

His cautious smile made her think it would be okay to push for the real answer she wanted.

‘What about significant others, Jack? Is there anyone in town I should be worried about who may get jealous and stab me in my sleep while I’m staying here?’

His smile faded, replaced with a frown. ‘I’ve dated over the years, if that’s what you’re asking. But no one in town. Can’t stand the gossip.’ He managed a rueful chuckle. ‘Not from a lack of trying by the local women, mind you. Turns out, being abandoned by your wife makes you appear very attractive to the ladies.’ He patted his stomach. ‘I reckon I put on twenty kilos the year after you left because they kept dropping off casseroles, pasta bakes, jelly slices, and cakes.’

Not an extra ounce of weight graced Jack’s body; Adelaide should know, she’d been checking him out. It wasn’t fair that he still looked as trim as ever, while she carried an extra ten kilos. Then again, she viewed that weight as an indication of a good life. She didn’t have to please anyone but herself these days and ate whatever she wanted when she wanted.

‘What about you?’

She knew asking Jack about his dating life would mean she’d have to reveal hers and she hoped it wouldn’t make things awkward between them. She wasn’t finalising their divorce because of Raven, but the closure wouldn’t hurt.

‘I’ve enjoyed being single over the years, but there’s a man who’s been persistent and we catch up when the mood strikes.’

Jack was many things, an idiot wasn’t one of them, so his glower meant he’d read between the lines and knew what she was saying: Raven was a friend with benefits.

‘Do you love him?’

Hell no. She’d given her heart to only one man in her lifetime and having it shattered meant she’d been more circumspect since.

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