Page 71 of Outback Secrets

‘Pub, and don’t tell Mum. If she thinks I’m meeting you, she’ll want to join us.’ Both Tilley and her mother were better—much more bearable—one on one.

‘Does seven work? That’ll give me a chance to make sure James is feeding Macy something vaguely nutritious.’

‘Seven’s good. I’ll see you then.’

After driving out to Tilley’s place on the edge of town to collect what she needed, Henri returned and then parked Cecil a little up the road from the pub so as not to be seen. Hopefully by the time Liam came in from the studio to shower and get ready to open the pub later that afternoon, her gingerbread would be cool enough to eat.

And, let’s face it, also that it would actually be edible.

She crept in the back door, snuck up to his apartment and let herself in with the key she’d stolen on her way out, only feeling mildly guilty about being there alone and uninvited. Resisting the urge to snoop or pluck his pillow off the couch, bury her head in it and inhale his woody scent, she went into the kitchen and set to work, putting baking paper on the trays, carefully measuring the exact quantities of ingredients into a bowl and then lovingly mixing it all together. It smelled and tasted so good Henri thought she deserved a medal for only eating a tiny chunk before wrapping it all in clingwrap and putting it in the fridge, and she felt immensely proud of what she’d achieved.

See, Mum? See, Tilley? I can cook.

She’d make sure to save a couple of biscuits for each of them to prove it.

After cleaning up the kitchen, there was still an hour and forty-five minutes to go before she could roll out the dough and start cutting. What on earth was she supposed to do with herself in that time?

You could go downstairs and see Liam.

Yet, as much as the idea of watching him work appealed—especially if he was shirtless again—making her presence known would defeat the point.

She wandered into the living area, thinking she’d see what was on TV, when her gaze caught on the bookshelf. Aside from a couple of old favourites, which she returned to time and time again for comfort and kept on a tiny shelf inside Cecil, all Henri’s books were on her e-reader, so it was a novelty having so many at her fingertips. Her device was more practical for travelling, but she did miss the smell and feel of actual print novels.

She trailed her fingers along the spines and shrieked when she came across the recent release of a favourite author that she hadn’t had the chance to read yet. As she plucked it from the shelf, she saw another couple of books that surprised her. Liam had to be the last person she’d have expected to have copies of The Baby-Sitters Club. She remembered Tilley and Frankie devouring these books, but they’d never interested her. Had they belonged to his little sister? Curious, she opened the first and frowned down at the inscription scribbled in juvenile handwriting on the front page.

Dear Liam—Happy Birthday. Luv Katie.

The second had an almost identical inscription. His sister’s name was Lacey, so who the hell was Katie? She must have meant something special for him to have kept these books. Ignoring the ridiculous dart of jealousy that shot through her, Henri went over to the couch and collapsed onto it.

She started to read, but her mind kept drifting from the story. It kept returning to Liam. To their magical day yesterday. To the way her insides turned to mush every time she saw him, like she was some teenage girl with a silly crush.

After a while she gave up, grabbed her phone and checked how long was left on the timer. The recipe said to let the dough rest in the fridge for at least two hours—there was still an hour and ten minutes of that to go—but was it really necessary to wait that long?

‘Guess there’s only one way to find out,’ she said to herself, dumping the book on the coffee table and heading back into the kitchen.