he told her to change her clothes at the cottage before they got in the Jeep.
Since an argument would waste more time, she did as he asked, but once they were in the Jeep and driving past all the sheds towards the main, she in a dry T-shirt and jeans and Jack in his existing jeans and a dry button-down shirt with yet more of the large front pockets that he seemed to favour these days, she pointed out the facts. ‘We could have changed later. It’s a warm day, no risk of getting a chill. Surely the water is more important?’
What was it with him and his shirt pockets, anyway? Had he suddenly taken to carrying around a barrage of goods with him or something? Not that she had seen any evidence of that since he arrived.
‘It only took a minute, and I—I mean, you were very wet.’ He didn’t look at her, didn’t change his tone of voice, didn’t do anything but continue to drive ahead with his jaw clenched tight.
‘There’s the main.’ Jack brought the Jeep to a stop and they climbed out.
They were able to shut it off without any difficulty. She wished she could shut off her concerns about them renewing their relationship as easily, but she couldn’t. They drove back, cleaned up around the storage tank, and went on finally to the cottage.
Tension wrapped around them as they stepped inside. It showed in the way he masked his gaze as he looked at her. In the elevated beat of her heart as she tried not to look too closely back.
To cover her discomfort, she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘It really did surprise me to see you’d cut your hair so short. I never expected to find you with a military-style cut.’
‘Everyone changes hairstyles from time to time. I told you—I haven’t changed.’ He almost growled the words, and shutters slapped down over his expression. ‘Is there anything else you want done outside before we call it quits for the day?’
His attitude definitely was protective, guarded. She would even say perhaps secretive. Why? Did he think if he relaxed with her she would throw herself at him? Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. Again, this was proof they needed a frank and open discussion to make things clear between them.
‘There’s always more to be done, but it can all wait until tomorrow.’ It might not be what he wanted to hear, but she wouldn’t make a workhorse out of him. There were limits, even when a person had volunteered to assist.
Jack dipped his head. ‘I’ll phone Denise, then. Ask how Ron got along today.’
Tiffany had wanted to broach an entirely different topic, but she nodded and turned away. It was important to hear how Ron was getting along. Things weren’t exactly running smoothly around here so far, but despite the farm-related hiccups she still had hope that she could present her parents with a good overall result when they got back.
Try, try and try again. It was what she had done as a child with her birth mother, although nothing had ever been enough.
That was then. This is a completely different situation, and the only reason you care about it is because you naturally want to do a good job of things.
Right. And the situation with Jack was different again. She would figure out how to deal with that, too.
She set about preparing the meal.
Jack stepped back into the kitchen and declared that Ron was fine. ‘Denise kept me talking with gossip for a few minutes.’
‘She does like a bit of a chat. I’m glad to hear Ron is doing okay.’
After the strained silence interspersed with uneasy small talk that had comprised their dinner break Jack took first shower. Tiffany hurried through hers next, to get away from the too-enticing scent of his shampoo and soap. She stepped back into the house in her summer pyjamas with a satin robe tied over. Her hair hung in damp tendrils down her back.
In that first moment as she moved into the kitchen Jack paused from sipping his tea at the bench and looked at her as a man who was utterly aware of her.
She didn’t mistake it or misread it. She was certain of that. As a result, shock coursed through her—shock, and a burst of unwelcome hope. Why did he look at her that way? She didn’t understand.
Then Jack blinked, and there was nothing at all, and she doubted herself all over again. Maybe she’d made the whole thing up. It had happened before—much to her embarrassment.
Jack took a sip of his tea. He wore similar jeans and shirt to those he’d had on when they’d turned off the water main. A fitted shirt showed beneath. He obviously planned to sleep in that, and perhaps he had shorts or boxers on under the jeans.
Maybe she should have covered up in ten layers, too, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her. She certainly wasn’t trying to entice him, and her robe was perfectly acceptable, anyway. At least she had thought so until she’d surprised that look in his eyes.
Or imagined she’d surprised it.
His fingers tightened around the mug of tea, and then he set it down and straightened away from the bench. ‘It’s getting late. I think I’ll turn in. Goodnight.’
He started to walk away, past her, towards the enclosed veranda room that held her spare bed and opened onto the cottage’s rear garden—an area comprised of mostly weeds and overgrown grass.
Tiffany almost let him go. But then it would just go on and on, wouldn’t it? He had been here little over twenty-four hours, and in that time they had generated a great deal of tension between them.
If they wanted to rebuild a relaxed relationship, something had to be done about that—whether it made him uncomfortable or not. ‘There’s something I need to say before you go, and I don’t want you to stop me.’
‘Tiff—’ His face a forbidding mask, he swung back towards her.
She went on quickly. ‘Before you left I embarrassed you when I developed an interest you didn’t return. To make matters worse I pursued the situation to a point where you chose to escape overseas to get away from me.’
Jack muttered an expletive beneath his breath. ‘There’s nothing to be gained—’
‘Actually, there is,’ she corrected him gently. She wouldn’t be swayed. They could put this off for ever, or sort it out now. In the interests of trying to get past all the rest of it, she chose now. ‘I misread you, and I apologise, and I want you to know I won’t ever project those kinds of feelings onto you again. I’ve realised they were a mistake and, like you, all I want now is for us to be able to move ahead as friends again.’
It was all she could want. And she would get her thoughts in line with it as quickly as possible.
Tension poured from Jack. He seemed to fight some inner battle before he finally gave a sharp nod. For the moment he seemed incapable of speech, but that was all right. At least the matter was out in the open, where they’d have half a chance to move beyond it.
Tiffany turned away, stepped towards her bedroom door and tugged it open. ‘Goodnight, Jack. I really am happy you’re here. I’ve missed our friendship more than I can say.’
‘Goodnight.’ His voice was harsh.
He strode through the lounge room. A moment
