Page 20

Two months later

LIV

The gravel crunches under our tires as Elliott eases his pickup truck to a stop in front of the weathered farmhouse. I inhale deeply, savoring the crisp Canterbury air that smells of grass and possibility.

"Home sweet home," Elliott says, his voice warm with affection as he kills the engine.

I smile, drinking in the rolling hills and the distant silhouette of mountains. "It's even more beautiful than I remembered."

Elliott's hand finds mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Ready for our weekend getaway, city girl?"

"More than ready," I laugh, pushing open the car door. The moment my feet hit the ground, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. This place, with its quiet strength and timeless beauty, has become as much a part of me as my bustling Ponsonby bakeries.

As we stretch our legs, Elliott's eyes crinkle with mischief. "Fancy a walk down memory lane?"

I quirk an eyebrow. "You mean the meadow?"

"The very one." He grins, already tugging me towards the well-worn path.

We set off hand-in-hand, our footsteps in perfect sync. The sun warms my face as we weave through knee-high grass, and I giggle at the tickle of wildflowers against my legs.

"Remember the first time we came out here?" Elliott asks, his voice lowered conspiratorially.

Heat rises to my cheeks. "How could I forget? I was so nervous I nearly tripped over my own feet."

"And I was trying so hard to be smooth," Elliott chuckles. "Probably came off more 'awkward farm boy' than 'rugby star.'"

I bump his shoulder playfully. "You were perfect."

We crest a small hill, and there it is – our meadow, a hidden pocket of tranquility nestled between two ancient totara trees. Elliott produces a blanket from his backpack with a flourish.

"Still prepared for everything, I see," I tease as he spreads it out.

"Some habits die hard." He winks, lowering himself onto the blanket and patting the space beside him.

I settle in, leaning against his solid warmth. The peacefulness of this place seeps into my bones, a stark contrast to the constant buzz of my Instagram notifications and the hum of my industrial mixers.

"I've missed this," I murmur, closing my eyes and drinking in the moment.

Elliott's arm wraps around me, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "The quiet?"

"Mm, that too," I say. "But mostly... us. Like this. No distractions, no schedules. Just us."

His lips brush my temple. "We should do this more often."

I nod, my mind already spinning with possibilities. "Maybe we could start a tradition? Monthly escapes to recharge?"

"I like the sound of that. Though I might have to fight the rugby team for some of those weekends."

I laugh, snuggling closer. "I think I can take them."

As we sit there, wrapped in each other and the serenity of the meadow, a sense of rightness settles over me.

"I can see why you loved this," I say, breathless.

Elliott's eyes sparkle with pride and something deeper. "It wasn't just about training. This place... it was my escape. Where I could dream about playing for the New Zealand Team, about being more than just a farm boy."

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at my heart. I stop, turning to face him fully.

"You've always been more than that," I say softly. "To me, you're everything."

His arms encircle me, and for a moment, we're suspended in time, balanced on the river stones of his childhood dreams.

The morning sun warms my back as I plunge the shovel into the rich earth. Elliott's beside me, his muscles flexing as he digs deeper. We're creating more than just a hole for a tree; we're planting our future.

"What kind of tree did you pick?" I ask, wiping sweat from my brow.

Elliott grins, that boyish charm sparkling in his eyes. "A pohutukawa. Thought we could use a little Kiwi Christmas magic year-round."

I laugh. "You romantic fool. I love it."

As we lower the sapling into place, my mind wanders. "Do you ever think about... you know, having little rugrats of our own running around here someday?"

Elliott pauses, his hands covered in soil. "All the time, actually. I picture a little girl with your curls and my stubbornness."

"Oh no," I groan playfully. "The world's not ready for that combination."

We pat the earth around the tree's base, our hands brushing. The contact sends a familiar tingle through me.

"What about you, Liv?" Elliott asks softly. "Do you see us building a family here?"

I close my eyes, letting the vision wash over me. "I do. A couple of kids, maybe. Teaching them Nonna's secret recipes, watching you coach their first rugby match."

"Speaking of recipes," Elliott says, standing and offering me a hand. "I'm starving. What do you say we raid the pantry and whip up something delicious?"

"You read my mind, amore mio ," I reply, my stomach growling in agreement.

Back at the farmhouse, we throw open the windows, letting the breeze carry the scent of fresh herbs from the garden. I twirl around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients while Elliott chops vegetables.

"Remember the first time I tried to make you pasta?" he asks, chuckling.

I snort, nearly dropping the olive oil. "How could I forget? You almost set my kitchen on fire!"

"Hey, I've improved," he protests, brandishing a zucchini like a sword.

"True," I concede, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You make a mean toast now."

We work in comfortable sync, the kitchen filled with the sizzle of garlic and the gentle thud of the knife on the cutting board. It feels like home, like the future we just planted outside.

As we carry our plates to the porch, I think about how far we've come. From that first awkward meeting in Ponsonby to here, building a life together on his family's land.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" Elliott asks as we settle into the porch swing.

I take a bite of our creation – a simple but perfect pasta primavera – and smile. "Just thinking how lucky I am. How lucky we are."

Elliott's arm wraps around me, pulling me close. "Luck had nothing to do with it, Liv. We chose this. We're building this, one day at a time."

As we eat, sharing stories and dreams, I know he's right. This happiness, this love – it's ours, planted and nurtured like the little pohutukawa by the house. And I can't wait to see how it grows.

The sun hangs lazy in the afternoon sky as we set out across the farm, our fingers intertwined. Elliott's hand is warm and calloused, a reminder of his dual life as rugby star and farm boy.

We pause at the crest of a small hill, the golden light bathing the fields in a warm glow. The scent of sun-warmed grass and wildflowers fills the air, and I breathe deeply, savoring the simplicity of this moment.

"It's so peaceful here," I murmur, leaning into Elliott's solid frame. "So different from the bustle of Ponsonby."

Elliott nods, his gaze sweeping across the land. "This place... it's in my blood, you know? No matter where rugby takes me, this will always be home."

I watch his face, seeing the quiet pride there. "And now it's becoming my home too," I say softly.

His arm tightens around me. "I love hearing you say that."

We continue our walk, pausing now and then to admire a particularly vibrant wildflower or watch a hawk soaring overhead. As the afternoon wanes, Elliott leads me towards a gentle slope I haven't explored before.

"There's something I want to show you," he says, a hint of excitement in his voice.

We climb hand in hand, the incline just steep enough to quicken our breath. As we reach the top, I gasp. The entire farm spreads out before us, a patchwork of greens and golds, with the mountains rising majestically in the distance.

"Elliott, it's beautiful," I breathe, taking in the panoramic view.

He guides me to a flat rock, perfectly positioned for two to sit side by side. As we settle in, the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in brilliant streaks of orange and pink.

"I used to come up here as a kid," Elliott says, his voice soft with memory. "Whenever things got tough or I needed to clear my head. It always helped me put things in perspective."

I lean my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. "Thank you for sharing this with me," I whisper.

Elliott takes my hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. The weight of the moment settles around us, filled with unspoken promise. As the colors deepen in the sky, we're on the cusp of something profound, something beautiful.

Elliott squeezes my hand, then stands up. My heart skips a beat as he takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. There's an intensity in his gaze that makes my breath catch.

"Liv," he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "From the moment we met in that Ponsonby bar, I knew you were something special."

He slowly lowers himself to one knee, and I feel my world tilt on its axis. Is this really happening?

"We've shared so much," Elliott continues, reaching into his pocket. "Laughter in your kitchen, quiet moments by the river, and dreams whispered under the stars. You've seen me at my best and my worst, and somehow, you still look at me like I'm your favorite flavor of cupcake."

I laugh through the tears that are starting to form. Oh, this wonderful man.

"Livia Garner," he says, his voice strong and sure as he presents a small velvet box. "Will you marry me? Will you build a life with me, full of love, laughter, and endless batches of pastries?"

My heart feels like it might burst. "Yes!" I exclaim, barely letting him finish. "Yes, a thousand times yes!"

Elliott's face breaks into the most radiant smile I've ever seen as he slips the ring onto my finger. It's perfect – simple, elegant, with a large diamond that catches the fading sunlight.

We're both laughing and crying as he stands and pulls me into his arms. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of pine and earth.

"I love you so much," I murmur, my voice muffled against his shirt.

"I love you too, my little baker," he replies, and I can hear the joy in his voice.

As we stand there, wrapped in each other's arms with the farm spread out below us, I've never felt more certain of anything in my life. This is where I belong. This is home.

Hand in hand, we stroll back towards the farmhouse, the grass swishing against our legs. I can't stop stealing glances at the ring on my finger, still hardly believing this is real.

"So," Elliott says, his eyes twinkling, "ready to trade your trendy Ponsonby digs for the wild thrills of Christchurch?"

I laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "Oh, you bet. I can't wait to scandalize the locals with my big city ways. Maybe I'll open a bakery that only sells avocado toast."

"Whoa there, rebel," he chuckles. "Don't go too crazy on us."

As we walk, my mind whirs with possibilities. "You know, I've been thinking about expanding 'Dolce Vita' to Christchurch anyway. This is perfect timing!"

Elliott nods encouragingly. "That's brilliant, Liv. Your Instagram following would go nuts for behind-the-scenes content of the new location."

"Ooh, yes!" I exclaim, my free hand gesticulating wildly. "I could do a whole series on adapting Nonna's recipes for Kiwi tastes. 'From Italy to Aotearoa'"

"Speaking of Nonna," Elliott says gently, "how do you think she'll take the news of you moving?"

I pause, feeling a pang in my chest. "She'll be happy for us, I know she will. But... it won't be easy leaving her. She's been my rock, you know?"

Elliott pulls me close, kissing the top of my head. "We'll make sure she visits often. Maybe we can even set up a little baking nook just for her in our new place."

The thought makes me smile. "She'd love that. And who knows? Maybe she'll finally share that secret tiramisu recipe with me if I butter her up enough."

I feel a warm bubble of happiness expanding in my chest. The road ahead may be uncertain, but with Elliott by my side, I'm ready for whatever comes our way.

"You know," I muse, "between your rugby and my baking, we're going to be quite the power couple in Christchurch."

"The Flour and Tackle duo," Elliott quips. "Unstoppable on and off the field."

I groan at the pun, but can't hide my smile. "Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything," he says, his voice softening.

"No matter how busy we get, we'll always make time for moments like this. Just us, together."

Elliott lifts our joined hands, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Always, amore mio . Always."

The End

Thank you for reading Sweet Rucking Temptation .