Lime Tree Hill (A Reluctant Kiss #1)

8. Bondi Beach

8

BONDI BEACH

Tayla walked into her apartment in Bondi Beach and looked around. She’d hesitated before booking the flight, her stomach in knots as the anticipation of returning to Sydney clouded her every thought. Now here she was, back in her cozy home, struggling with a tinge of regret and an unexpected tug of homesickness for Clifton Falls.

She’d leased the apartment furnished, complete with a hammock strung from one balcony support post to the other. Not that the balcony was part of her package. It belonged to the apartment above. Hers was a tiny ground-floor space, three blocks from the beach, with just enough room to park herself and her Vespa.

Tayla opened the windows and listened to the sound of children’s chatter and laughter as they ambled home from school. She recalled her life here: weaving her scooter through the crazy traffic, devouring the local sourdough, and early morning boot camps at the beach. Her home for three years, it had been the first time she’d lived alone, and she’d loved it.

Hayden had a three-bedroom terrace in Paddington. She’d been there many times but had seen no sign of a wife. Apart from hers, not even one feminine toiletry lurked in the bathroom. She wondered where else he lived in that double life of his. Probably Darling Point, or somewhere equally as fabulous.

She eyed her treasures: small market finds—paperbacks, jars of shells, and candles. Apart from her beloved Vespa, there wasn’t much else to pack, just a few things from the kitchen and her favorite linen sheets. Half a dozen boxes should do it. She’d managed to sublet to the daughter of the couple upstairs for a few months. That should give her enough time to sort out the orchard and remap her journey.

After hours of cleaning and sorting, Tayla walked along Campbell Parade in search of food. She bought a burrito—bursting with beans, rice, and avocado—and sat on the steps by the lifeguard tower, eating slowly as she fought to hold back the tears.

When Tayla moved to Sydney, Bondi had been a deliberate choice. She’d had a dream—to stand in the surf without fear and be lifted gently off her feet by the swell of the Pacific. To carry a surfboard under her arm as she walked home, like many of her neighbors did. Now that dream would never be realized, and the regret threatened to overwhelm her.

When she let herself into Hayden’s terrace house the next day, everything looked exactly the same. He liked order. Symmetry. Even their dates, his notes, and his timetable were slotted into neat squares on a calendar. Black pen on white and written with such a precise hand for a doctor, that she wouldn’t dream of adding to the script.

His bed was unmade—unusual for him—and on the chair, a shirt and tie lay where he’d left them. She inhaled, but there was no lingering scent to remind her of his touch, his kiss…her longing. Because she had longed for him. Wanted the intimacy others had talked of. And on those rare nights when he’d invited her to stay, she’d imagine what it would be like to make love—to finally ex perience that physical bond that unites two people—as Hayden slept beside her.

The sound of her phone had her rummaging in her bag, her thoughts snapping back to the present. She glanced at the unknown number before answering. “Hello?”

“Tayla? It’s Mitch.”

She sat on Hayden’s bed, unsure why her stomach flipped at the sound of Mitch’s deep voice. “Hi.”

“How’s Clifton Falls?”

“Actually, I’m in Sydney. Where are you?”

“In London, visiting family.”

London? So that’s why she hadn’t seen him before leaving for Auckland. “Oh, okay. I didn’t know that.”

“I just called to see how Barry was.”

Tayla wanted to ask why he hadn’t called her mother instead. But maybe he didn’t want to bother her. “He’s doing much better, thanks. How long are you away for?”

“Another three weeks.”

She removed the phone from her ear and pushed the speaker icon. “I’m glad you called. I’ve given your proposition some thought, and I’d like to…well, consider your suggestion.”

He fell silent. She imagined him lying in bed with the phone in his large hand, naked from the waist up, every muscle on full display and a slight frown on his brow.

“Did you manage to get hold of a realtor?” he finally asked.

“Not yet. We’re still working through a few things, but…”

“Okay. I’ve given it some thought too. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but to be honest, I can’t see it working. If you get another offer, you should grab it.”

Tayla’s heart sank. Just when she’d decided to go ahead, he’d countered with a ‘thanks, but no thanks.’ “Oh. Okay.”

“No one would believe us. Besides, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable around me, and I’m too busy to deal with that kind of energy at the moment. I’m not one for confrontation. ”

Energy? Why didn’t he just say ‘bullshit’? Because Tayla was certain that’s what he meant. “Of course.”

Silence stretched between them again.

“Tayla? Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she said, but there was nothing more to add. “We must have a bad line. Anyway, thanks for your call. I have to go.” With that, she hung up. If her phone hadn’t been brand new, she’d have thrown it against the wall. But no man was worth a broken iPhone.

Tayla hurried over to the closet and looked inside. The few clothes, bathrobe, and gym gear she’d left there were still in the same place. But when she studied Hayden’s things with a critical eye, she noticed something she’d paid no attention to before.

Lack.

There were no rows of running shoes—although he owned many pairs—very few casual shirts, not even many shorts and T-shirts in his drawers. And when she looked up, there wasn’t even one box of memorabilia on the top shelf.

Tayla stuffed her things into a duffel and picked up her paperback from the nightstand. She didn’t want him arriving home after a night in the operating room to find her poking around. But then, he wouldn’t come here at the moment, would he? Not with a new baby at his other house.

Downstairs in the kitchen, she placed the keys on the counter then rummaged through her bag, her hand finding the small ring box. Apart from a weekend away in the Blue Mountains, the ring was the only thing he’d ever given her. Tayla smoothed her fingers over the velvet, and after setting the box on the counter next to the keys, she opened the lid.

Fashioned from white gold with a large center stone and square diamonds on either side, it was a beautiful ring. Hayden had picked it himself—told her so after he’d proposed. He hadn’t wanted to announce their engagement or their plans for a wedding. It would be more romantic, he’d said, to elope and tell everyone after the fact.

Now there’d be no announcement.

Now that beautiful ring would never be worn. Not by her, anyway.

Resisting the urge to try it on one last time, she closed the lid. And as she stepped out the front door and pulled it shut behind her, an unexpected wave of freedom swelled in her chest.

They’d shared their last kiss, their final goodbye, but at the time, she hadn’t realized it.

The following day, Tayla returned to Auckland on the early morning flight, leaving Sydney and Hayden and the excitable waves of Bondi Beach behind. And later that evening, as she sat with her father, she couldn’t get over how frail and vacant he seemed.

When Tayla went to bed that night, she cried into her pillow. First, for her dad as he’d been: fit and strong and proud, with a smile that didn’t stop. And then, as the enormity of the situation with the orchard hit her, she cried for herself. Things would look better in the morning, but for now, tears seemed the only way forward.

Several days later, Hayden texted his angry demands, pleading for them to meet. Why this? Why that? Why, why, why? But by then, Tayla was already back in Clifton Falls.

Already wondering what on earth she should do.