Say You'll Be Mine

by R. J. Groves

  Not that he wanted to.

  She would be gone in a few weeks and he’d probably never see her again, considering they’d spent the last seventeen years without seeing each other. But the way that she avoided his gaze right now, the way she’d spoken that last sentence so quietly and with a hint of something he struggled to place—was it disappointment? Jealousy? And her statement itself—I didn’t know you have a son—where did that even come from?

  ‘Well,’ he said slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and letting out a slow breath. ‘That would be news to me, too.’

  Her brow creased and he fought the urge to reach out and smooth the crease with his thumb. He gripped his biceps instead, his arms still folded. ‘Are you saying you don’t have a son?’ She squinted, her lips pursed as she waited for his answer, and he had to swallow to stop himself from closing the distance and kissing those supple lips. God, what had come over him?

  ‘No son that I’m aware of,’ he managed. ‘Or a daughter, for that matter.’

  Her mouth worked, and she pointed to the stable. ‘B—but Jarrod?’

  ‘Jarrod is Sylvie’s. He’s my nephew.’

  Her arms dropped to her side, then she crossed one arm in front of her to hold her other elbow and let out a sound that he could only take as disbelief. Then she closed her eyes and rubbed her face. ‘I’m sorry, I thought—’ She lowered her arms and planted both hands on her hips, staring down at the space between them. ‘I—well, it’s nothing. Sylvie has a son?’ She looked up at him again at the last bit.

  ‘She has three sons. Jarrod, who’s almost fourteen, and almost-four-year-old twins, Xander and Zeke. Jarrod’s dad left before he was born, and his step-dad tends to favour the twins over him. So he spends some time here at the farm to get away from it all. Can’t blame the kid. The twins are a bit of a handful.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ she said quietly. ‘I had no idea Sylvie had kids now.’

  ‘Well, it’s not exactly what she’d planned either, but I don’t think she’d have it any other way.’

  She held his gaze for a moment, evidently reminiscing. Sylvie had always kept to herself when they were younger, so although Jannette knew her and had talked to her, Sylvie had always had her select friends. Everyone else was too boring. Shannon scoffed inwardly. Where were those friends when she’d needed them most? He thought about suggesting that Jannette catch up with Sylvie while she was staying here, but decided against it. She might bump into Sylvie at some stage, but she shouldn’t have to go out of her way to contact someone who may not be willing to give her the time of day.

  ‘What would you have said if he was my son?’ He was surprised by the question that managed to come out before he’d had a chance to think about it. But she didn’t seem quite as surprised as he was.

  She held his gaze, not moving and not saying anything for a few moments, then said, ‘I don’t know.’

  He swallowed. ‘What would you have thought?’

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that. He knew whatever her answer was that it shouldn’t matter. But a part of him—a part he seemed to be losing control of very quickly—felt like it should.

  After another moment of silence, her lips curved into a smile he couldn’t help but feel had a hidden meaning. ‘It doesn’t really matter, does it?’

  ‘Maybe not.’ He barely registered the fact he’d taken a step closer. ‘But I’m interested to know.’

  He must have taken another step forward, because she was now close enough that he could easily cup her cheek and kiss her if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

  Actually, he did. Very much. But he couldn’t.

  She lifted her chin, looking up at him, her baby blues darkening a few shades, and he wondered if she wanted it too. But none of it would work. None of it could work. She would be leaving soon. Not to mention the fact that she was a city girl now, and he was everything country. She swallowed, and it took all of his restraint not to kiss her right then.

  ‘I would have thought that you’d make a great dad,’ she said slowly, quietly, holding his gaze the whole time. ‘And that any kid would be lucky to have you looking out for them.’ Her mouth opened again as though she was going to say more and then she snapped it shut.

  ‘And?’ he prompted, lifting a hand to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. Much like he had that first day she’d been back, but this time she could have very easily done it herself.

  She swallowed again, and he could have sworn she’d pressed her cheek against his hand. God help him. ‘And … I might have been a bit jealous.’

  He couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He slid his hand to cup the back of her neck, and she lifted her chin a little more, her gaze dropping to his lips. Slowly and torturously, he lowered his head closer to hers, inch by inch, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she didn’t want this—whatever this was. He couldn’t make sense of it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He sure as hell didn’t want to think of what would happen over the next few weeks or when she left. He wasn’t the kind of guy who had flings. He was the kind of guy who went all in and wore his heart on his sleeve.

  By the time he was only an inch or so away from her lips, one of her hands slid up his arm, leaving a trail of fire wherever she touched. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she nudged just that little bit closer. He felt the rumble at the base of his throat and his breath mingled with hers as he moved to close that distance.

  ‘You coming, Uncle Shan?’

  They jerked apart, putting distance between them a lot quicker than they’d eliminated it. Shannon rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin and she stared at the empty space between them.

  ‘Uncle Shan?’ Jarrod called, a lot closer than the first time he’d called out.

  ‘I should, ah …’ he started.

  ‘Yep. Do that.’ She turned back towards the calves and busied herself with putting the empty bottles back in the crate.

  ‘Right. Well. I’ll—I’ll see you later.’ He waited for a response, but he got nothing.

  He let out a long, slow breath and tried not to beat himself up too much as he caught up to his nephew. If he hadn’t taken so long to close the distance …

  She’d been so close …

  So close he could taste her in her breath—he still could. Sweet. Tender. Lush. Oh, he could get addicted to the way she tasted. In fact, he just might already be. It was probably a good thing his nephew interrupted when he did. Shannon couldn’t think clearly when he was so close to her. Now that there was some distance between them, he realised how stupid it would have been to kiss her. Even if it was good—which he was sure it would be—and even if it meant more than he was ready to admit, it didn’t change the fact that they were from two different worlds and he may never see her again after she left. Which she was going to do. Leave. She had a life to return to in Perth, even if she’d admitted to him that it hadn’t seemed as fulfilling as it had been. But she had plans. Baby plans. And she deserved that happiness. He couldn’t ask her to change her plans for him.

  And then there was Robbie.

  Robbie, who would no doubt be furious that he’d trusted his best friend around his sister and he’d gone and done something stupid like kissing her.

  ‘You okay, Uncle Shan?’

  ‘All good. You back to school yet?’

  ‘Next week. I’m kinda bummed I didn’t get to spend as much of these holidays here though.’

  Shannon slapped Jarrod on the back. He remembered being disappointed when he couldn’t come to the farm at his age, too. ‘Yeah, well, your mum needed your help while she was on her own this week.’

  Jarrod nodded, but didn’t speak until Shannon had his horse saddled and they both started on their ride to check all the fences.

  ‘Do you like Uncle Robbie’s sister? As in, like like her?’

  Shannon shot his gaze over towards his nephew, unsure whether this was the kind of conversation he should be having with him. ‘Um. Yeah. I guess
I do.’

  ‘Does she like you back?’

  Shannon took a deep breath and let it all out. Well, if someone had asked him that right before he was about to kiss her, he might have said yes. But something had shifted in the air between them when they’d jerked apart, and now he wasn’t so sure. ‘Don’t know. Doesn’t matter anyway.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Usually he didn’t have a problem with Jarrod’s questioning. But then, it wasn’t usually about anything as personal as this. ‘Well, she’ll be leaving soon.’

  ‘But what if she doesn’t?’

  Shannon couldn’t help but let out a laugh. If only it were that simple. ‘She will.’ But as he’d said it, Jarrod’s words rang in his ears.

  What if she doesn’t?

  Chapter 5

  Jannette placed the hot tray of shepherd’s pie on the cork trivets on the table and flicked the tea towel over her shoulder, giving the salad another toss as she heard the front door close and the masculine voices trail through the house towards her. She grabbed some plates from the cupboard and cutlery from the drawer and placed them on the bench just in time for the men to enter the kitchen.

  ‘Smells good, Aunt Jenny,’ Jarrod said, leaning his elbows on the back of a chair and peering at the food. He reached a hand towards the shepherd’s pie to dip a finger in it and Jannette cleared her throat, pausing his actions.

  ‘I hope you’ve washed those hands,’ she said, a smile playing at her lips.

  Jarrod had been spending a lot of time at the farm over the past week or so and she’d grown to enjoy his company. When he wasn’t following Shannon around, he’d been helping Jannette in the garden and sometimes in the kitchen. He really was a good kid—Sylvie should be proud. Even if he still reminded her so much of a young Shannon. The fact that he’d started calling her Aunt Jenny with a similar twang to Shannon’s didn’t help, either. He flashed his cheeky grin and made a defeated noise, looking towards Shannon.

  ‘Told you she’d notice, mate. Off you go now,’ he said.

  Shannon shot a glance towards her, and she had to turn to the sink to hide her blush, her teeth inadvertently digging into her lower lip. She wasn’t sure why, but he seemed a different person around Jarrod. Less stressed, she supposed. Younger, like he was a kid again. Carefree, even. And while they hadn’t had any time where they were alone together since their almost-kiss, he still gave her looks that sent her stomach aflutter, and smiles that curled her toes. Moments that, at the time, were so brief, but so intense. And she wasn’t sure what to make of them.

  It was probably for the best that Jarrod had been there—and that he’d interrupted them. God if they’d actually kissed …

  She could still feel his warmth against her body, the touch of his hand against her cheek, the back of her neck. She could still taste him though they hadn’t actually kissed. Oh, but they were so close! If she had just been that little bit braver and closed the distance between them herself …

  Jannette brushed the thought aside and popped the dirty dishes from her meal preparation in the dishwasher, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t see the blush she knew would be on her cheeks.

  She felt his presence next to her before he cleared his throat. Grabbing the tea towel off her shoulder, she quickly dried her hands and looked towards him, surprised by his closeness. He leaned back against the bench next to the sink, a little bundle of envelopes in his hand.

  ‘These came for you,’ he said, holding them out towards her.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ she said, grasping the envelopes.

  She’d had her mail redirected to the farm just before she’d left Perth, unsure of how long she’d be away or when she’d be returning. She hadn’t realised that everything would come at once. She didn’t look through them. She knew they’d mostly be bills or junk mail. She never really got anything else sent to her in the post. Really, she should get her bills sent to her via email, since that would probably be easier. But with the number of emails she already got from everything she’d subscribed to—not to mention all the spam she somehow managed to get—she was bound to lose the bills and end up not paying them on time. At least if they were stuck on her fridge, she wouldn’t miss them.

  ‘I’ll look through them later.’ She shoved them in her handbag that was still on the floor at the end of the bench.

  She’d been so determined to put on a nice spread for everyone that she’d ducked into town for fresh ingredients and had gone straight into cooking as soon as she’d got back to the farm. It had been another big week, and with most of the calves for the first part of the season already born, she’d been busy with feeding times. Not to mention that Jarrod would be returning back to school in a couple of days and Robbie was getting his casts off the day after. Considering all of it, she’d thought a celebratory dinner was needed.

  She flicked her gaze back towards Shannon, who looked as though he was about to say something, when Robbie and Jarrod both came into the kitchen.

  ‘Jarrod said you found another calf,’ Robbie said, settling himself at the table.

  ‘We did.’ Shannon pushed himself off the bench and headed towards the table. ‘Fed her up and tucked her in the pen. That breech calf went straight over to her and made a fast friend by the looks of it.’

  Jannette smiled as she brought the plates and cutlery over to the table, noticing the seating arrangement as she distributed them. Robbie sat at one end, Shannon next to him, and Jarrod next to Shannon. She slid herself into the logical seat—on Robbie’s other side, opposite Shannon.

  ‘I imagine Clarabelle would make a great mother one day,’ Jannette said, unable to hold back her pride for the little calf.

  Considering she’d been a bit wary of the newcomers at first, Clarabelle had certainly gotten better at making them feel welcome. Jannette hoped the calves would all be okay under Jarrod and Shannon’s care while she was away on the weekend for Andie’s wedding. She still couldn’t believe that her employee and friend had got engaged to her now-fiancé the night before Jannette had told both her and Harley that she’d decided to close the shop. Not to mention the fact she’d only had six weeks to plan the wedding. She supposed that was the kind of problem that came with being so determined about the venue, but she also knew that Andie was probably the best person to plan a wedding with such short notice.

  ‘Clarabelle?’ Robbie said, scooping some shepherd’s pie onto his plate and bringing her back to the topic at hand.

  She noticed Shannon had already scooped a healthy serving of salad onto his plate and was waiting for the scoop for the pie. Jarrod, it seemed, was avoiding the salad altogether until Shannon picked up the salad servers again and loaded half of Jarrod’s plate with it.

  ‘Clarabelle,’ she repeated. ‘The breech calf.’

  She felt all eyes fall on her, and she couldn’t quite make out why it unsettled her. ‘Oh. You named it,’ Robbie said, scooping some salad onto his plate and picking up his fork.

  ‘Of course I did,’ she said, frowning. She took the salad bowl from Robbie and served some for herself. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  She could feel Shannon’s gaze on her, but somehow managed to not look at him. She did, however, notice that both Robbie and Jarrod now had pie on their plates and neither her nor Shannon had any yet. She nudged the scoop towards Shannon. She didn’t know why. She’d never really been the kind of person who needed everyone else to be served before her. But a part of her seemed to think that at least Shannon should be. She decided she’d have to have a little chat with that part of her later.

  ‘We just don’t usually name the … calves,’ Robbie said. She noticed the deliberate pause before he’d said the last word and couldn’t help her brow furrowing. She turned towards Shannon now, hoping he might clarify. His eyes were on her, an intensity in the look she couldn’t quite discern, but he said nothing.

  ‘Why not?’ Sure, she could guess the sheer number of cattle they had over the years would, in itself, make it difficult t
o come up with names. But there was just something in how they were all acting around her and about that topic.

  ‘Because they’re bobby calves, Aunt Jenny,’ Jarrod piped in, shovelling pie into his mouth. ‘If you get too attached, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.’

  She recalled Jarrod saying something along those lines when she’d first met him. She shot her gaze back to Robbie. ‘Gone where? To another home, I assume. I mean, I get why you can’t keep all the calves, otherwise your herd will get too big but—’

  ‘Jenny.’

  Shannon’s voice was quiet and she could still feel his gaze on her, but the sudden realisation of what those calves were destined for had finally hit her. Bobby calves. Now she remembered why it had sounded familiar. Because she’d heard the term mentioned in hushed tones when she’d been a kid. When her dad had still been alive. She remembered enjoying calves for a while and then the calves going to a new home. She glanced down at the remainder of the shepherd’s pie sitting in the middle of the table. What kind of new home, she wondered, had all those calves she’d loved as a kid gone to?

  ‘Robbie, no,’ she whined, shifting in her seat to face her brother. She could still feel Shannon’s gaze on her, felt the tip of his foot land gently on hers, as though trying to reassure her in a way. She tried not to look too far into it. ‘Please don’t tell me they’re meant for the S-L-A-U-G-H-T-E-R.’

  ‘I’m fourteen, Aunt Jenny,’ Jarrod said with a smirk. ‘I can spell.’

  ‘Robbie?’ she urged, ignoring Jarrod’s comment.

  He continued eating for a moment, just like their father had sometimes done so many years before. Back then, she’d admired her father for it, as if he was thinking out an answer before speaking. Right now, she couldn’t have been more frustrated. She knew Robbie was only doing it because he didn’t want to tell her the truth. But in doing so, he’d already given her an answer.

  ‘How could you?’ she said, her voice a little over a whisper. Shannon’s foot pressed a little harder on hers, but she didn’t care. ‘Robbie, this is a dairy farm. The cows are bred for milk, not meat.’