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You’re not to notice him in that way, Stacie.
Troy opened the passenger door for her and stood back.
Stacie caught her breath, caught the scent of the cologne he wore, and fought not to close her eyes to enjoy it all the more. If she did that she’d be right back in her thoughts to being kissed by him, and she couldn’t afford to think about that. She stepped blindly into the car.
During the drive they spoke of the rain, the plant, Troy’s almond orchards and the number of times Houdini had found a way to be over at Troy’s since Troy had first found him.
It wasn’t a long trip and it passed quickly while Stacie was trying to pull her thoughts together for the evening ahead. She couldn’t walk into this night overly aware of Troy. The work aspect of the evening had to be her focus.
It was raining lightly by the time they arrived outside the restaurant.
‘Perhaps the weather forecast will prove accurate and we’ll be rained out tonight.’ Stacie spared a thought for the possibility of frizzy hair, while Troy took an umbrella from the glove compartment.
He took her arm so they could share the umbrella as they approached the welcoming lights of the restaurant. Sensible efficiency shouldn’t have added to her ultra-awareness of him, but it did.
‘That’ll be him over there.’ Troy spoke quietly and guided Stacie to a man waiting at a table set for three to the side of the room.
‘Troy Rushton?’ The man got to his feet.
‘Yes. And let me introduce the plant’s administrative assistant, Stacie Wakefield.’ Troy shook their guest’s hand, and introduced the man to Stacie in turn. ‘Stacie, this is Marc Crane.’
Stacie smiled. ‘Hello.’
Marc was an athletic looking man in his mid-thirties.
His gaze rested on her for a moment before they all took their seats.
Stacie didn’t even register the attention. Well, she did, but just as a passing moment of being summed up.
And how could she even drum up enough interest to care, when the only man she could manage to think about like that was the man at her side?
Andrew had hurt her so much. She’d thought a part of her would go on loving him, even when she didn’t want to. Had those feelings gone now?
She wasn’t thinking of Troy in that way, of course, but she hadn’t expected even to notice a man for a very long time at least.
They settled into their seats at the table. Stacie made sure she took her part in the conversation. With every moment that passed, she struggled not to fall deeper under the spell of her employer’s appeal.
She’d never felt like this. It was as though, by sharing those kisses with him, she’d opened a pathway that she now couldn’t seem to step off, that she wanted to follow forward.
What was she saying—that she did want to try to pursue a relationship with Troy?
Out of the question.
She’d told Troy she didn’t want that, and he’d said the same right back to her.
‘We don’t have split shifts to work the plant around the clock, no.’ Troy answered Marc’s question and expanded to outline the current hours. ‘Thanks to a very good manager, the plant has locked in three new almond suppliers in the past year, Marc, and we’re now in negotiations with several more.’ Troy continued the discussion. ‘The plant shows every sign that it will definitely expand until it is running around the clock.’
‘All good to hear.’ The other man nodded. ‘I like to understand how a plant works if I’m thinking about doing business with it.’
Their meals arrived: pumpkin ravioli for Stacie; steak dressed with sautéed prawns for the men, with herb bread in a wicker basket and crisp individual salads. Stacie ate her delicious meal and watched Troy shine as he put the plant forward in its best light to this potential business-contact.
No one would ever have known Troy hadn’t been running the plant in a very hands-on fashion for years and years!
‘I’ve enjoyed the meal.’ Marc glanced at his watch and then met Troy’s gaze. ‘And I’m looking forward to dealing with you. I’ll email you when I get back to my offices to sort out our next step.’
‘I’ll look forward to that.’ Troy rose as Marc did.
The men shook hands and Marc left.
‘He’ll get soaked between here and his car.’ Stacie made the observation as Marc pushed the restaurant’s entry-door open and the sound of deluging rain and rushing wind met their ears.
‘I suppose he will.’ Troy took his seat again.
Stacie smiled. ‘You did a great job of winning him over, Troy. I don’t think you needed me here at all.’
‘I want the plant to progress. That’s just good business-sense. And don’t underestimate the benefit of your presence.’ Troy gestured to a waiter. As the man approached, he asked Stacie if she’d like coffee and dessert. ‘It’s still early.’
‘I would, actually.’ Stacie gave a half-embarrassed laugh. ‘The tiramisu here is really spectacular.’ It wouldn’t be wrong to stay, to talk a little longer, just the two of them would it? If they simply spoke of work matters, didn’t that mean it was fine?
‘I’d rather let that rain ease off a bit before we drive back.’ Troy’s words seemed to decide the issue, and in a wholly pragmatic manner.
So, you see it was obvious—Troy wasn’t thinking about anything even slightly close to memories of kisses. He probably had production schedules circulating in his head!
Stacie told herself she could relax, and if she felt a spark of something that rather resembled disappointment she didn’t allow herself to admit it.
‘You’re digging in.’ She hadn’t really realised it until just now. ‘You’ve taken the future of the plant to heart, not just to see it keep going, but to make the absolute best of it that you can.’
He was already doing the same with his orchards. ‘You’ll make your enterprises here successful, Troy. It’s in your nature to make that happen.’
‘No matter what the career path …’ He seemed arrested by the thought. And then he looked at her. ‘You’re doing the same. Pushing forward.’
‘Yes. I really want to make a success of the Bow-wow-tique as a full-time business, and I believe, now that I’ve positioned myself here at Tarrula, I’ll be able to.’
He blew over the top of his coffee and sipped. ‘I think you will, too.’
Will … what?
For a moment Stacie couldn’t recall the thread of the conversation. She’d been distracted by lips that she’d thought from the start were made for kisses; now she knew …
‘Tell me about growing up, Troy. Or life in the army. Both.’ Anything to distract her from wanting his kisses again.
Too late.
And how would getting to know him more fix her problem of trying not to desire him as a man?
‘I left my home at seventeen.’ Troy took a spoonful of his dessert. ‘I go back for visits, but my parents are retired and travelling a lot. I can’t say we’re particularly close. Dad’s a quiet man, keeps to himself pretty much, and Mum’s always found me a bit hard to … accept, I think.’
He was giving her a chance to get to know him, to glimpse his past world—where he’d come from and what made him tick.
It felt right to reciprocate, at least to a degree. ‘I had a good childhood, a happy one.’ Maybe that was why, as they had all got older, she hadn’t wanted to notice when men started to gloss over her existence and only see her beautiful sisters.
It had taken Andrew, allowing her to believe he loved her and would eventually marry her—and then falling at Gemma’s feet instead, with an engagement ring in his hand, no less—for Stacie’s hopes to tumble down.
Stacie’s chin came up. ‘My sisters are very beautiful women.’ And that was enough about that.
‘Did you have a fulfilling career in the army, Troy?’ Had he reached his zenith before injury had robbed him of all of that?
‘I don’t know if the climb ever would have ended.’ The colour of Troy’s eyes darkened, as he seemed to consider the question. ‘But, yes, I’d reached a lot of my goals before the injury.’
He went on to explain how he’d moved through the ranks within the armed forces, into special-ops and what he’d achieved there. When Troy told her about the mission that had resulted in his injury, he was guarded about details, but told enough of a story for Stacie to realise the relief he’d felt that the mission had been a success—that no one else on the team had been injured, that they’d all got out alive and accomplished what they had set out to do.
Stacie met his gaze and something in it warned her not to become too sentimental about all that. ‘I’ve lived an easy life in comparison. I have supportive parents and my sisters. Now I have my farmlet to gradually bring up to standard inside and out, and my Bow-wow-tique business to grow. I’d dabbled with it for a couple of years before I moved here. I’m glad I finally got serious about it.’
‘I think you’ve lived more than you realize, or are perhaps letting on.’ His low words were observant. ‘And I think I’d find it interesting to meet your family.’
Too observant; Stacie had been through pain and she didn’t want to carry all of that forward into what her life was now. She wanted to leave it behind her, and he’d just hit on the one topic Stacie didn’t want to explore—how she currently related to her family.
‘I want to live my own life, my own way.’ The words came on a burst of sound, and she turned her attention back to Troy to get away from the emotions they invoked. ‘With a career like yours, would you have planned to marry?’
The moment she asked the words, she shook her head. ‘Sorry. That’s not really my business.’
‘I was engaged to a woman who also had a career in the army.’ Troy’s words held a calm inflection that didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.
Somewhere in their depths, Stacie saw turbulence: anger at fate, perhaps, for robbing him of his dreams, not only in terms of work, but personally as well?
Why had the engagement ended?
‘Linda couldn’t move forward with me. I’d have held her back.’ Troy spoke the words flatly. ‘If she hadn’t made that decision, I’d have made it for her.’
‘She agreed to this because you were injured?’ Shock made her words sharp; disapproval honed them even more. He didn’t need to confirm it. The truth was in his steady gaze. ‘That’s wrong.’
It hadn’t been love! This Linda should have been at his side, seeing him through!
A deep anger filled Stacie. Hadn’t Troy faced enough, without such a loss being added at a time when he must have been able to accept it least? Yet he was saying he’d have instigated the break up if his fiancée hadn’t!
‘I have no emotion for a second attempt at a relationship.’
His words made it clear that he believed that he had a lack of emotion deep down within himself. Stacie had looked into his eyes; she’d seen the hardness.
But he’d held her gently, kissed her softly as well as with passion.
Had she imagined those emotions in Troy because she wanted them to be there?
Just as you did with Andrew, Stacie? Except in his case those emotions weren’t truly there for you but could be found and handed to your sister.
‘I understand, Troy.’ In the end, she did. He wanted to be her neighbour and employer and that was all.
Whatever she felt about anything else, that was Troy’s expectation.
‘I wonder if the rain has eased at all?’ Stacie glanced towards the door. ‘We should maybe go.’
The getting-to-know you mission had certainly been accomplished. Whether the results felt particularly palatable just now or not was another thing. Well, they could be friends and colleagues, couldn’t they? That was what she’d felt would be sensible from the start. Stacie got to her feet and made the choice then and there to prove they could be exactly that.
It might take all the pride and determination she had, but she would make it happen.
After all she’d been through with Andrew, she wasn’t about to pine over Troy!
Troy escorted Stacie from the restaurant. He’d imparted more about himself than he’d planned to. Stacie had admitted to a broken relationship, and he’d drawn his conclusions about that: one of her sisters had stolen her man.
The hard knot in his chest must be disapproval of that sister. She’d treated Stacie badly.
Just as Linda treated you badly.
What was he thinking? Linda had done exactly what he’d expected of her.
He led Stacie through the rainy night to his four-wheel-drive. It was time to take her home and forget about swapping confidences, and too much examination of himself, when he was already quite clear just who he was!
CHAPTER SIX
‘FANG won’t like these high winds.’ Stacie glanced towards her darkened house. She took pride in the normalcy of her tone and delivery, just a colleague who happened also to be a neighbour, making an observation about the weather as Troy drove her back to her house. ‘He’s not all that keen on rain, and stormy weather makes him tense unless he’s inside the house with me. Hopefully it won’t be upsetting Houdini either. Don’t get out, Troy. There’s no point both of us getting wet.’
Troy got out anyway. He took her arm to help her to the house. The wind tried to pull them over. When they got under the porch he tipped his head to the side and listened. ‘That sounds like a sheet of tin flapping on your roof.’
It was hard to hear anything over the rain and he hadn’t bothered with an umbrella. It would have turned inside out in an instant, anyway.
Stacie had left her porch light on. She stepped back out into the open and looked up. Even in the dark and through the rain she could make out a large piece of roof-sheeting flapping crazily.
‘Come inside. We’d better see the damage,’ Troy suggested. ‘There’s going to be a mess.’
For ten seconds as she unlocked her front door and drew a breath to deal with what she might find on the other side, Stacie heard all the doubts. Had this been a good decision? Could she really make a go of things here without this place being just a money pit?
And then she threw her shoulders back. She hadn’t made the wrong decision. She’d made one that was what she’d wanted. She could make a wonderful home out of this farmlet, a great viable business of the Bow-wow-tique—and she would! ‘I guess the roofing contractor didn’t factor in weather like this when he said the rest of the work could wait.’
‘Nobody could have anticipated this. Hopefully the wind won’t have done too much—’ Troy broke off as Stacie turned lights on inside her house.
She took one look and excused herself to change into jeans and a sweater.
‘Well, technically,’ Stacie said, in an attempt to be judicious as she strode towards the rear door of her home past a large puddle of water in the hallway, ‘The wind hasn’t done all the damage. The rain it’s let through has done most of it. I’ve got a ladder out the back.’
I like a good challenge.
The thought whirled in Stacie’s head as she carried the ladder inside the back door. Fang was out there, of course, and barged into the house at the first opportunity, demanding at least some sympathy for the fact he’d been left to endure a wet, windy night while Stacie was out partying in town. Houdini was right on the larger dog’s heels.
‘I’ll take the ladder. You take care of the dogs.’ Troy glanced at both animals before he took the ladder from Stacie’s hands.
Stacie fed the dogs and she did it fast, with a quick pat for each. By that time Troy had climbed the ladder. ‘A torch would be helpful, Stace.’
Stacie already had it in her hand. She held it up and his hand closed around it, their fingers brushing lightly for a moment as he took it. It wasn’t only that which made Stacie’s heart skip a beat: Troy had called her Stace. It was just a shortening of the name; the guys at work did it all the time. But with Troy it felt different. Intimate …
