Page 59 of Third Time’s a Charm

It’s everything early morning sex should be. Soft and slow and lazy. And utterly toe curling.

“Jesus, I’m out of practice. I ache all over.” Jasper groans, as he rolls onto his back once our toes have uncurled. I take more pleasure from knowing he’s out of practice than I probably should.

“Lucky this hotel has a secret weapon for that, then.”

An hour later we’ve soaked in the hot tub, hoovered up a massive breakfast on the private terrace of Jasper’s honeymoon suite and are about to head off on our winery visits. Jasper catches my arm and reels me in for a deep kiss at the door of the suite.

“This has been the best start to a day I’ve ever had,” he murmurs into the flesh below my ear.

My heart trips and falls flat at his feet. It’s the best start to a day I’ve ever had too. I only hope that what we’re starting now, in the glorious bubble of our road trip, survives the real world. I trust Jasper when he says we’ll work it out, but I’m not so naïve that I don’t see the problems we face. It’s just that I’m ignoring them.

Or maybe it’s that I’m trusting that he has my back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jasper

As with all the other places we’ve visited, the winemakers at Mount Barker greet Louise with enthusiasm and warmth, teasing us over the windscreen accident, and laughing over the tales of our stay in Bullibingal, minus what happened in the hotel room.

From Mount Barker, we head to the Barossa, one of the most famous wine-growing regions in Australia.

The spectacular rolling green hills are dotted with old stone barns and tasting rooms. In keeping with Louise’s preference for unique accommodation, we stay in an old homestead that’s been converted into a guesthouse.

After our unexpected but spectacular night in the honeymoon suite, by unspoken agreement, we retain the two rooms she originally booked so the office will be none the wiser about how our relationship has changed.

“Your place or mine?” Louise asks as we stand in the wide hallway outside her door after checking in.

I look at my door, barely three strides up the hallway. “Your place is closer.” I take the key, shove open the door and drag her inside, both of us laughing.

We don’t have long to indulge ourselves right now because we’re meeting some guy called David, one of the vintners Louise wants to work with, for dinner at a local restaurant. But we make the best use of the time we do have by taking a joint shower and manage to arrive at the restaurant he’s booked no more than five minutes late.

It’s obvious the minute we walk in the door that this guy has a crush on Louise. And why wouldn’t he? She’s absolutely crush-worthy. But he’s standing at the back of a very long line. I’m at the front. And I intend to keep it that way.

I’m not so far gone that I don’t notice he’s an objectively handsome guy. If you like the boyish look. But it will take more than good looks to win over a woman like Louise. I just hope I’ve got what it takes.

She’s looking particularly appealing tonight with a pink flush in her cheeks that I hope doesn’t scream just fucked. Her hair is loose and curls around her shoulders, and her green eyes are bright with humour.

What should be a polite welcome kiss on the cheek from David lingers. His hand drops proprietorially to the small of her back as he ushers her towards a table. Before I can stop him, he’s sliding onto the booth bench next to her, leaving me alone on the other side of the table.

He leans into her, inappropriately close, to make suggestions about what to order, which gives him an uninterrupted view down the neckline of her blouse. My linen shirt is too hot; even the open collar is too tight as I watch him flirt with her about ‘saving room for dessert’. If he thinks she’s going to be his dessert, he’s got a surprise coming.

I promised Louise I would do nothing to compromise her professionalism, but I’m shocked by my visceral response to their dynamic. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced before, and it’s hard not to grab this guy by the throat and tell him to keep his eyes and hands to himself.

Louise, of course, picks up on my discomfort, and I don’t miss the grin she tries to hide behind the massive folds of the menu.

I’m really going to have to get my shit together before we arrive back in Sydney, because based on the quizzical looks David is bouncing between Louise and me, I’m not doing a great job of hiding my feelings.

“I don’t know if she’s told you, but Lou and I go way back,” David the Douche says, leaning back and draping an arm across the back of the booth. His hand comes to rest on Louise’s shoulder, where he plays with a silky curl.

“Is that right?” I concentrate on not grinding my teeth loud enough for him to hear. “She’s never mentioned you.”

Yep. Looks like I’m becoming the type of possessive cave-man I’ve always despised. David, fortunately, is either too dense to pick up my dig, or has chosen to ignore it.

“Yep. We met at university.”

Given I know for a fact Louise still has a couple of months before she turns twenty-seven, I don’t think that qualifies as way back. But whatever.

I’m about to tell him I’ve known her since she was three, when I spot the mild panic on Louise’s face and remember we agreed to keep that to ourselves.