Page 8 of Moonstruck Kiss

She scoops him up and tickles him under his chin, making him giggle. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yes!” He puts his arm around his grandmother’s neck and squeezes tight. Then he wriggles out of her embrace to go to his Grandpa Evan, who lifts him and spins him around.

“I saw a kookaburra, Grandpa. It was laughing!”

“Oh, wow! Did you take a photo?”

“No! Because Dad was too slow to get his phone.”

“Ah, we’ll have to teach him to move faster then. But let’s have breakfast first, shall we?” Dad raises his brows at me. “In the restaurant okay?”

“Yup.” Now that the town is—to the best of our knowledge—free of reporters, paparazzi, and nosy social influencers, my parents are encouraging Ollie and me to be out and about.

I didn’t mind being cooped up within the lodge’s premises for a month. It was the perfect time for my whole family—and my friends from New York, Sawyer and Brooke—to bond with my son. We enjoyed going bushwalking and kayaking, and we had picnics by the river near our cabin. What was more, I was able to do some office work since I had a lot of babysitters around. While I’m technically on vacation, I had agreed that Lando could call me anytime so I can show him what I’m really capable of. And he’s been doing just that.

Of course, I’m copping a lot of flak from my parents for working a lot, but I can’t afford to let my career suffer—or lose it altogether—just because I’m now a full-time father. In fact, I need this job even more now that I have a son to raise.

Anyway, now that the out-of-towners are gone, Mum and Dad are insisting we start doing something else for Ollie’s sake. I suppose I agree. I’m just not looking forward to the attention we’ll get from the local busybodies.

Like Dimple.

Excitement shoots through me at the possibility of seeing her again but, honestly, what’s the point of wallowing in thoughts of her when I don’t intend to do anything about my stupid attraction?

We enter the lodge’s in-house restaurant, Moonstruck Tastes, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon wafts into my nostrils, making my stomach grumble in anticipation. Ollie is bouncing on his feet, eager for his hot chocolate.

The four of us sit down at the most private corner table, and I look around. The place is almost full, with only two tables next to us kept empty for our relative privacy. That’s good.

As our breakfast arrives, my parents fuss over Ollie, heaping food on his plate and listening to his tales about the birds and plants he saw on our way here.

My mother seems distracted, though. She keeps glancing at the entrance behind me.

“Waiting for someone?” I ask before I sip my coffee.

She lets out a high-pitched laugh—her tell when she’s nervous. “Why would I be waiting for someone when we’re all here?”

I narrow my eyes. My bones tell me I’m not gonna like what she’s planned.

She thinks that finding Ollie a new mother is a great idea. Hilarious, right? She hasn’t exactly said that out loud, but I’ve no doubt that’s what she had in mind when she introduced me to a woman named Lara yesterday. Lara’s first words to me were, “Gosh, you’re so much hotter in person,” followed by, “I’ve always wanted to live in New York since visiting it three years ago.”

Thanks, but no, thanks. Not that Lara wasn’t nice and all. I’m just not after a relationship—at least not of the permanent kind. My exes would attest that I’m way too career-driven to be a good boyfriend.

Since I want to avoid any conversation regarding my non-existent love life, I bring up the subject both my parents don’t want to talk about.

“Can we please discuss your financial status?” I ask in a gentle tone. “Like I said, I’m happy to help. I wish you’d consider my advice, at the very least.”

Dad grins. “We’re absolutely fine. Nothing to worry about.”

I suppress a sigh. “I know that this place is special to you. And I’m so proud of what you’ve done with it over the years, especially when the buildings were barely standing when you inherited it. But you know that numbers don’t lie. There are not enough rooms here to generate the money you need to give you a comfortable income. What’s the point of a hard slog day in, day out when you can sell this place for a fortune to someone who has the funds to develop it? Then you can buy another business that’s not only easier to manage but also a heck of a lot more profitable.” While this property is over one hundred acres, only a small area is being utilised. The rest is untouched bushland. Developers would throw big money at my parents to snap this up.

“But we’re fine. Really,” Dad insists.

All right, I didn’t plan to bring my sister into this, but it looks like I have to. “Liss told me that you have a very short-term loan with super-high interest rates that you’re having a hard time paying.”

My parents glance at each other. “How did she know that?” Mum asks before shaking her head. “Oh, don’t tell me.”

I chuckle dryly. “It’s true, huh? So why did you have to get a loan with such undesirable terms if you’re doing well?”

“Because,” Dad says, “at the time, that finance company was the only one willing to lend us money for the electrical and plumbing issues we had. Anyway, it’s all paid up.”

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