Lime Tree Hill (A Reluctant Kiss #1)

36. Flirting With Indecision

36

FLIRTING WITH INDECISION

When she’d first moved to Bondi, Tayla had walked past the Icebergs Pool at least three times a week. Sometimes, she’d lean over the rail of the boardwalk, watching swimmers glide through their lengths with ease, and wonder if she’d ever have the guts to learn to swim.

It had taken two years for her to find that courage and another year before she could comfortably swim in the outside lane, closest to where the waves crashed over the pool wall. But by the time she’d left Sydney, Tayla still hadn’t ventured into the surf itself.

Mitch teaching her to surf had been a condition of their arrangement. But as the winter months slipped into spring, her board leaned against the garage wall, the bow still attached, and her wetsuit hung unused in the closet where he’d left it.

Tayla had never mentioned that condition again, and given his preoccupation with the business, she hadn’t wanted to push the point.

So when he arrived home early the following Saturday and suggested they ‘take her board for a spin,’ she wasn’t prepared.

The weather flirted with indecision: cold one minute, warm the next. And as Tayla sat in his truck, their boards strapped to the rack and wetsuits strewn across the back seat, that familiar panic held her in its tight grip.

Mitch pulled into a parking space south of Petrie Bay, where a cliff face calmed the easterly and the surf was soft and slow. As she watched the Pacific amble into the shore, she let out a sigh of relief.

He turned to look at her and reached for her hand. “Are you ready?”

Her mouth dry as she squinted against a brief flash of sunlight through the clouds, she picked up her water bottle and took a sip. “I’m kind of nervous to tell you the truth.”

“That’s understandable.” He smiled. “You think I’ll be a tough teacher?”

She took another sip. “Maybe we should go. I’m just wasting your time.”

Mitch leaned over and kissed her before tapping her on the nose. “I enjoy wasting time with you.” He opened his door. “Come on. It’s the perfect day for it.”

They donned their wetsuits without a word, then walked to the shore, their fingers entwined. Standing knee-deep in the water with her arms crossed over her chest, Tayla watched Mitch dive under. He resurfaced with a flick of his head. “Shit, it’s cold.” His hand outstretched, he waded toward her. “Come closer. I’ve got you.”

Tayla stepped forward, the sand beneath her slipping through her toes as the waves receded. He held her around the waist and walked backward, guiding her past the breakers with steady steps and calming words. By the time she stood chest-deep in the water, she didn’t know what took her breath away more. The cold water, fear, or Mitch protecting her with his body.

“You’re doing great.” He pulled her against him. “Wrap your legs around my waist. We’ll tread water through this next swell and let it flow around us. I’ll still be able to touch the bottom once it passes, so don’t worry about being out of your depth. ”

She wrapped her arms around Mitch’s neck as the swell lifted him off his feet. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Breathe through it.” He moved toward the shore and set her down. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll let go?”

Tayla braced herself against a breaking wave. “No, it’s just…”

“I won’t let go until you’re ready, I promise.”

His words were a practical statement of their present situation, but Tayla couldn’t help but think of the wider picture. He wouldn’t let her go until she was ready. But would she ever be ready? Their association had a time limit; she hadn’t expected it to last beyond a few months. And yet, here they were. Dancing through the waves of the make-believe world they’d created.

“Right.” He took her hand. “Ready to go deeper?”

They’d stayed at the beach until late afternoon and arrived home tired and content, their skin polished by salt and intermittent sunshine. Tayla hadn’t put her head under, but as they’d stood in the water, her arms around his neck and their bodies close, Mitch couldn’t have been prouder of his wife.

Despite the twilight chill, they’d eaten filo-wrapped chicken parcels on the balcony while soft music and easy conversation flowed. He’d watched Tayla animated as she told a funny story with a twinkle in her eye. And at that moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to pick her up and take her to bed, to feel her lean legs wrapped around him, to lose himself in their rhythm. Because, while she’d been a virgin when they married, her new enthusiasm for him knew no bounds. And to Mitch, that was the best feeling in the world.

But first, he had some urgent work to attend to.

He looked up when Tayla knocked on his office door. She wore another satin slip, pearl white with lace trim and shameless darts pointing to her peaked nipples .

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He rocked back in his chair, enjoying the sight of her. “Just running some numbers.”

“Come to bed,” she said, her voice husky, her smile full of an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

“Ask me again.” He closed the lid of his laptop.

“I want you to come to bed…so we can make love and try something new.”

A slow smile moved into play as he cleared his throat. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Keep the slip on.”

Tayla walked toward him and leaned over his desk until her face was inches from his. “Only if you wear those tight boxers from the photo shoot.”

“Come here.” He tried to grab her by the wrist, but she pulled back.

She turned and walked away, and as he jumped from his seat and ran after her, she took off into the bedroom. They fell together onto the bed, Mitch on top, both of them laughing. It reminded him of the touch rugby game, but this time, she was his to have—willingly. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her over and over, her mouth minty fresh, her scent wafting around him.

“Where do you want me?” he asked.

“On your back.”

Mitch rolled over and lifted his arms above his head while Tayla tugged off his T-shirt. She straddled him, grinding against him as his erection strained beneath his fly. He moved to unbuckle his belt, but she stopped him. “Let me.”

“I thought you never looked at me on the billboard.”

Her hands went to work, and as she pulled down his zipper, he lifted his butt so she could remove his jeans. She admired his boxers. They weren’t the ones he’d worn in the photo shoot, but they were just as tight. “Every woman in Clifton Falls looked at you on that billboard. Ogled you even.”

He grabbed her butt with both hands and squeezed gently. “ Every woman ogled me? Including you?”

“Oh yeah, including me.” She kneeled back, taking his boxers with her, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

Mitch placed his hands behind his head, grinning as his erection freed. “What are you going to do to me?”

Tayla crawled forward. Cradling his face in her hands, she kissed him before whispering, “Sit on top, but backward.”

“Reverse cowgirl?”

She lifted her arms so he could remove her slip. “Yes. Reverse cowgirl.”

He laughed deep within his throat, his hands around her waist. “Have I died and gone to heaven?”

“No, you’re very much alive.”

The next day, Mitch sat in his office, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him as he wondered what on earth was going on. Ever since they’d opened the larger premises, Lime Tree’s farm gate store had enjoyed a string of four- and five-star reviews. But as he scrolled through the latest dozen or so, they were all one star, each a variation on the others. Rude staff, overpriced produce wilting on the shelves, out-of-date eggs and milk, stale ciabatta.

Weeks ago, when several of the grapefruit trees were stripped bare, Mitch had put it down to petty theft. Then they’d lost hundreds of avocados, stolen so early that there was no chance of them ever ripening. But when the complaint to the OCA had surfaced, he’d really started to worry. And now this.

“Shit!” He picked up his phone and hit Luka’s number.

“Mitch. What’s up?”

“What’s the name of that private detective you play water polo with?”

“David Wong. Why?”

“Lime Tree Hill is under attack.”