Page 60 of Outback Secrets

‘This is fun,’ she said as they manoeuvred the rocking chair off the ute. ‘I feel like a reverse burglar.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Reverse burglar?’

‘Yeah. Totally. We should have worn balaclavas.’

It was hard not to laugh as an image of Henri wearing a black mask and ski suit landed in his head. She’d make the sexiest damn burglar he’d ever seen.

Neither of them said a word as they lurked up the street, doing their best to be quiet as they carried the rocking chair between them. They were almost at their destination when the clock struck midnight and, just like that, the street went perfectly black. Well, it would have been perfect if Henri didn’t choose that moment to get a serious case of the giggles.

‘Shh,’ he hissed, more amused than infuriated. She didn’t come across as the kind of girl who giggled, but the more time he spent with her the more she surprised him. ‘You’re supposed to be helping, not getting us caught.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She didn’t sound it, but she managed to curtail her laughter as they tiptoed up onto the porch, put his rocking chair alongside Dolce’s old one and retreated quickly.

‘I bet everything about Christmas is pretty different in America,’ Henri said as they made their way back to the ute, passing by a house that had three white reindeer grazing on the front lawn.

Damn Christmas, couldn’t she think of anything else to talk about?

‘Yeah.’ He forced himself to reply like a normal person. ‘Summer will never feel like … like Christmas to me, neither will prawns on the barbie or cricket in the backyard.’ And that was a good thing. ‘Is that what you guys do out on the farm?’

‘Not so much anymore—my brothers don’t like it when I score more runs than them. When Dad was alive, he used to tell them to grow up and stop being sore losers. Mum keeps things fairly traditional foodwise. Despite the heat, she still usually goes the whole shebang with ham and turkey, roast veg, Yorkshire puddings, gravy and a steamed Christmas pudding. Once we’re all stuffed silly, we flop about in the pool or head to the beach.’ She looked up at him. ‘What about you? What was Christmas like when you were growing up?’

His throat threatened to close over at the question, but he didn’t want to keep being weird or for her to think him a grump so, somehow, he managed to tell her something.

‘Well, my family wasn’t huge, so Mom would invite around anyone she knew who was going to be alone for the holiday and she’d put on this enormous meal. Sometimes we’d have up to twenty strays. It was never boring.’

‘Sounds fun. I guess you ate turkey?’

‘Of course.’ Another forced smile. ‘And also the traditional casseroles—green beans, marshmallow and yams—and more pies than anyone could ever eat. Pumpkin, pecan …’

He trailed off when he realised Henri had stopped and was staring at him like he was an alien. ‘What?’

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought yams were sweet potatoes?’ When he nodded, she screwed up her nose. ‘Please tell me you don’t eat them mixed together with marshmallows?’

The tightness in his chest eased a little at her horror. His smile became real. ‘Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it.’

She opened her mouth, but her words were lost as a gunshot pierced the otherwise silent night.

Fuck.His stomach dropped. How could this be happening? Again?

But there was no time to question fate. Instinct kicked in and Liam dived in front of Henri, pushing her onto the ground and covering her body with his. Moments later what looked like Brad’s V8 Falcon hooned past, smoke pouring out of its exhaust.

At the realisation it was just the engine backfiring, breath gushed from his lungs and his heart rate tried to catch up with his head.

‘Sorry. Are you okay?’ he panted, gazing down at Henri, her face mere centimetres from his.

‘That scar on your shoulder isn’t because you fell from a tree, is it?’

‘No.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘It’s not.’

Silence stretched between them. In the distance he could hear waves lapping against the shore, and maybe an owl.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked eventually.

Did he want to talk about it?That was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but something about Henri had him wavering. He’d almost come clean to her last night. And after what had just happened, perhaps he did owe her some kind of explanation.

Rolling off her, Liam sat up, ran a hand through his hair and took a few ragged breaths.

Beside him, she slowly rose into a sitting position but didn’t say a word.