Lime Tree Hill (A Reluctant Kiss #1)

31. Quiet Reflection

31

QUIET REFLECTION

Two days after Hayden and Anna’s departure, Tayla took the river track to Cherry Grove for a stroll around her mother’s garden before sunset. With the sale finalized and the tenants not yet in residence, it gave her time to let go. When she reached the house, pruned rose bushes and lavender trimmed into tight balls ready for spring greeted her. That was how Mitch operated—everything done with an efficiency Tayla had never mastered.

Sitting on the steps of the veranda, she recalled the many nights she’d lain awake in her room, wishing for a boyfriend, her imagination running sexually wild. Fueled by stories from her sisters and peers, she’d dreamed of nights where stolen kisses and hushed tones would lead to messy, passionate sex in the back seat of some boy’s borrowed family car.

But her dreams remained just that. Figments of her overactive imagination. Because for Tayla, no boy ever showed an interest. By the time she’d met Hayden, she’d resigned herself to a life of what her Great-aunt Annie had referred to as spinsterhood. That barren existence so earnestly portrayed in historical novels and movies. It was either that or submit herself to the pick-me-at-any- cost scenario. Where sex was offered to and by jerks with no thought or feeling—until the booze wore off.

When Tayla met Mitch in Norman’s sunroom in her eighteenth year, she hadn’t realized he was ‘the boy’—the grandson who’d come and gone like a proverbial ghost from Norman’s life. A man in his early twenties, he’d seemed so unavailable then. With his height and bulk and inquisitive eyes, he was as handsome as any man she’d ever met. She’d babbled on about groceries and library books and insisted there must be some mistake when Ken told her Norman had passed. But Mitch had remained silent as he’d looked upon her with pity.

Or had he simply shared her pain? After all, he’d lost his grandfather that weekend. A grandfather he seemingly loathed and loved in equal measure.

And now they were married—albeit a marriage of convenience. Mitch had suggested they become lovers without ties or commitment. Lovers without love. And while she’d imagined being with him in those times of quiet reflection, she’d never in a heartbeat considered he might reciprocate the notion.

Later, she climbed the stairs to the loft and slipped into the bathroom for a shower, leaving him to work undisturbed in his office. As the water soothed her skin, the billboard flashed through her mind. It wasn’t there any longer, replaced two days earlier by a new BMW advert. She missed it. Missed his smile even more than those perfect abs. And the longer they stayed together, the more she’d liked the comfort of Mitch watching over her as she drove toward Lime Tree Hill after work.

She imagined having sex with him. Was he a lights-on or a lights-off kind of guy? Would he take care of her needs or simply use her as an outlet for his frustrations? Had he been with anyone else since they’d eloped? Would sex with him be a moment of tenderness or a time of regret? Questions flooded her thoughts until she had to shut them off along with the water .

As she walked back into the kitchen for a glass of juice, he called to her.

When she popped her head around his office door, he sat forward in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “You okay?” It reminded her of their wedding day, when he’d demonstrated his caring side with such thoughtfulness. A side she’d seen more and more of since then.

“Fine. I just needed a walk. I had a call from Mum earlier. They’re coming home this weekend. It will be strange seeing them crammed into their new place.”

“Yeah, but their move couldn’t have come at a better time. Imagine if they still had the orchard. Barry wouldn’t have coped with that.”

“You’re right, but it’s still the end of an era.”

“Do you miss the house?”

“Yes, a lot, actually. It was always so full of life. Lots of noise—everyone talking at once sometimes.”

“I appreciate what you did…the sacrifices you made so I could buy the orchard.”

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Thank you. But we both made sacrifices, didn’t we?”

Mitch stood and walked toward her, offering a soft smile. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “I guess we did.”

Was this their new normal? Touching hands and knowing smiles? Seduction without emotion?

Her hand slipped from his and she looked away. “You know what, I don’t feel like cooking. Let’s go into town and I’ll shout you a takeout. We could eat at the beach.”

“Sure, sounds good.” He gestured for her to go first. “I’ll grab some beers while you get your jacket.”

They sat at the northern end of City Beach, two bento boxes on the picnic table in front of them. Mitch reached into the cooler bag and pulled out a couple of bottles of craft beer. He flipped the lids with an opener from his key ring, and for a moment, the differences between him and Hayden made her smile. Mitch, with his large hands and gravelly voice, had a bottle opener on his key ring. He offered her a beer much as Hayden would have offered her a fine wine and explained the bouquet as they sipped.

Tayla focused on the water, a fishing boat—a dark dot against the sunset—catching her eye. She inhaled; the smell of miso soup, seaweed salad, and tempura vegetables making her hungry after days of little appetite.

“Did you see Hayden before they left?” Mitch asked as he tucked into his meal.

“Briefly. He came over to drop off the key, then stormed off in a huff when I wouldn’t let him kiss me goodbye. He texted later to apologize though.”

Mitch didn’t reply, conveying his thoughts with a slight shake of his head.

“I won’t be going back to Sydney to live. Although, I do have to sort out my apartment soon.”

He stopped eating. Put down his chopsticks.

“I know I’ve been withdrawn,” Tayla continued. “But after everything that’s happened and returning to Clifton Falls, I’ve struggled to pull myself through the mist. Do you understand what I mean?”

Mitch kept eye contact, sipped his beer. “Sure.”

Tayla moved rice around with her chopsticks while her thoughts found order, the other hand holding her jacket tight against the wind. “Still, I’m over the worst. When I saw Hayden the other day, standing in the driveway talking to Ned as if he belonged, I despised him for his insensitivity.”

Mitch reached over and fastened the jacket tab around her neck. Such a small gesture, but intimate. Caring. “Do you still love him on a deeper level?”

She finished her mouthful of food. “It’s taken me a while, but no. Seeing him in a different light the other day—that pleading, blame-shifting shit-show he put on—helped snip that last thread of doubt.”

“But you still haven’t blocked his number?”

She grinned. “It’s on my to-do list.”

Mitch chuckled. He picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and took a bite. “I’m sorry I screwed up, with Cherry Grove, I mean. I’ve put you through a lot of crap.”

“We did what we had to do. Hayden could have told me about Anna, but he chose not to. He lived a double life and thought I’d never find out. I’ve never considered myself gullible but, maybe I’m not such a good judge of my own character.”

Mitch raised his beer. “To gullibility. May we both smother it under the weight of regret.”

Tayla glanced his way and laughed. Some days, he said all the right things. She clinked her bottle against his. “I’ll drink to that.”

“May I ask you a personal question?” Mitch said after a moment.

“Depends.”

He touched her hand, rubbing this thumb back and forth across her knuckles. “You said you guys didn’t have a sexual relationship. Just how experienced are you?”

His bluntness surprised her. Apart from Ruby, no one had ever asked about her sexuality outright. She didn’t reply.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he said. “You don’t have to answer.”

They ate in silence until their bento boxes were empty. Tayla stood and stuffed the bottles and boxes into a bag for recycling. “I’m going back to the truck. It’s freezing.” She paused, her expression flirtatious. “And to answer your question, I’m not experienced at all. ”

Mitch picked up the cooler bag and followed her across the boardwalk. As he opened the truck door for her, she smiled her thanks. Once inside, he went to start the engine, then stopped.

He looked at her. “You’re still a virgin?”

She hesitated. Exhaled. “Not by choice.”

“Shit, seriously?” He leaned back in his seat, the keys still in his hand. “Don’t you ever…wonder about sex?”

“Of course.” She giggled, as she often did after a beer or two. “I’m not asexual, I’ve just never had the opportunity. That must sound strange to a guy like you, but not everyone’s out there doing it all the time.”

He grinned at her words. “But you’re still open to us sleeping together?”

Tayla nodded. “I won’t lie, I’m scared stiff of taking that step. I never had a boyfriend at school or uni. When I moved to Sydney, I went out all the time—quiz nights, speed dating. I still didn’t meet anyone I felt a connection with. When I finally met Hayden, I hadn’t been on a proper date in four years.”

“I don’t get it. Most guys would jump at the chance of dating you.”

She shot him a wry smile. “Maybe it’s the prissy stuck-up snob vibe that puts them off.”

Mitch threw his head back and laughed. “I still can’t believe I said that.”

Tayla loved the sound of his laugh. Warm and throaty and teasing in its message. “Is that an apology?”

He leaned across the cab and kissed her on the cheek. “No.”