could yell control freak and uncompromising jerk as often and loudly as she liked—he was immune as far as her insults were concerned, and was more than comfortable with any label she threw at him so long as she was safe.
‘Why are you standing there all by yourself and looking like the world’s about to end?’
‘Hey, Suns.’ He realised he’d been lost in thought awhile. ‘I was listening to you play and thinking how quiet it’s going to be here.’
‘Doesn’t say much for my skills then; I stopped five minutes ago.’ She was leaning on her elbow crutch in a slant of light studying him with a half-smile on her lips, blonde hair curling in wisps around her face.
He nodded, coming out of what felt like a daze. ‘I’ll want a CD of your music.’ He was going to miss her. Sunny by name, Sunny by nature.
‘Already working on it.’ She cocked her head. ‘Problem with the new house?’
Why did her question immediately conjure a certain dark-haired dynamo rather than his latest property acquisition? ‘A few surprises, that’s all.’
That famous Sunny mood dimmed. ‘So there is a problem.’
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ He walked to her, clasped her shoulders with both hands and smiled his reassurance. ‘I’m ravenous. Did you wait for me?’
‘Of course I did.’
He squeezed her shoulders and released her, and she accompanied him down the passage, her crutch tapping lightly on the tiles. They both preferred the cosiness of the little kitchen alcove over the formal dining room. Because he knew she wanted him to, Leo sat down and let her ladle the fish stew into two bowls without assistance.
She’d raided his wine stash. He poured two glasses of pinot noir from the bottle she’d set on the lace-cloth-covered table. ‘Celebrating again?’
‘Can’t seem to stop,’ she said with a laugh. The table was arranged flush against the bench to accommodate Sunny’s disability and she carried the bowls to the table one at a time. When she was seated, she raised her glass. ‘To the next adventure.’
Crystal chimed against crystal. ‘Wherever it is you’ll find it, Suns.’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of your next adventure.’ Her blue-eyed matchmaking gaze winked back at him.
He leaned back and studied his glass. ‘We seem to be talking at cross purposes again.’
‘What happened with that pretty little brunette you sent fifty red roses to then escorted to the theatre last month? Aisha, wasn’t it?’
Ah, Aisha. Perfectly lovely, perfectly amenable. Or so he’d thought until she’d expected him to pay the cancellation fees for the overseas honeymoon she’d booked in anticipation of his marriage proposal.
Sunny and his love interests were very separate aspects of his life, except that she’d caught him ordering the roses. ‘You know me.’ He broke open his bread roll. ‘Short-term casual all the way.’
‘You’re right, I do know you. And it’s just sad.’ She pointed an accusatory finger at him then shrugged and sighed rather dramatically. ‘Okay, so you’re looking for ways to make your next million.’
‘Accumulating wealth.’ He drank deeply then tilted his glass towards her. ‘I thrive on the challenge.’
She grinned, picked up her spoon. ‘I love a challenge too. Swimming in the Australia Day Big Swim on Sydney Harbour, for instance.’
Leo set his glass down and blinked at her while she tucked into her meal. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I’ve put my name on the list for swimmers with disabilities,’ she said around a mouthful of fish. ‘January’s nine months away. Plenty of time for you to agree to be my swim buddy.’
‘We’ll need to have that conversation at some point,’ he growled and got stuck into his own meal. But of course he’d agree—what was more, she knew it.
She tolerated her scars and deformity without a whisper of complaint or self-pity. Her wish to live independently was her choice, not his.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, reading his mind.
‘Mum would’ve been proud of you.’
‘She’d have been proud of us.’ Spoon halfway to her mouth, Sunny eyeballed him. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.’
Sunny’s pain was physical and would last a lifetime. Leo’s anguish was deep and every bit as enduring. Guilt. Regret. His memories of the night twelve years ago when their lives had changed forever was as stark and real and terrifying as if it had happened yesterday.
He’d saved his sister but had been too late to pull their bruised and battered mother from their burning home. If his father hadn’t goaded him into swinging that punch earlier in the evening, maybe the monster wouldn’t have come back later and torched the place. The only justice was that he’d also died in the blaze.
‘I wish she could have been here to see me perform in Sydney,’ Sunny was saying. ‘She’d always wanted to attend a concert at the Opera House.’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said, pushing the past away and raising his glass to her.
‘I’m counting on it. It’s my last gig with the gang before I join Hope Strings. Three weeks, don’t forget.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised.
How could he forget? He only had to oversee the renovations, secure his own rental accommodation in Hobart and check out the environmental practices of a new client on the east coast of Tasmania in addition to his existing workload.
And to top it off there was the nosy neighbour with the attitude.
He tossed back the last drop of wine and set his glass on the table with a decisive plunk. He absolutely, positively, without a doubt, didn’t have time for a distraction like Breanna Black.
One week later on Saturday afternoon, with Eve’s Naturally closed for the rest of weekend, Brie made her way to East Wind’s back door trailing her small plant trolley. She and Carol had exchanged keys years ago for those times when either of them were away. Before she handed her key to the agent Monday morning, she’d made arrangements to reclaim several dozen
potted herbs and flowers she’d given Carol over the years. She’d intended collecting them during the week but had been working insane hours and they’d slipped her mind.
Taking a last look down the driveway to make sure Mr Hamilton of the husky voice hadn’t decided to turn up in the last two minutes, she deactivated the alarm and let herself in. Not that she expected him—apparently he wasn’t able to collect the keys until Tuesday. Carol hadn’t elaborated and Brie was thrilled with herself for not asking for more details.
The glass-walled atrium formed a semicircular
