Honey Hill House

by Lisa Ireland

  ‘Deal.’

  * * *

  Mitch was glad Bea had insisted on the dim lighting option. Hopefully it meant she couldn’t see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He had performance anxiety of a most unusual kind. He’d meant what he said earlier about loving every part of her, and he knew that no matter what she revealed when she removed her jumper, it wouldn’t turn him off. On the other hand, he’d never seen a woman without breasts before and he didn’t know what to expect. He knew even the slightest flinch or hesitation on his part would send Bea’s confidence plummeting. It seemed he would be the first man to see her like this since her husband. Bea was tough, she’d recovered from the bastard’s rejection, but Mitch knew there was a lot riding on how he reacted to her scars.

  He sat on the side of the bed, his back to her as he removed his socks and threw them so they landed on top of the clothes he’d already discarded. He took a steadying breath and turned to face her, finally discarding the hat. ‘Okay, that’s my part of the deal done. Your turn now.’

  Her eyes stared into his as she silently removed her jumper. Slowly he lowered his gaze. Her chest was encased in an ordinary black bra. Nothing too scary there.

  She slid a finger under one bra strap and pulled it free of her shoulder. She was smiling but he could see the trepidation in her eyes.

  ‘Allow me,’ he said. He placed his hand on her neck and drew her in so he could kiss her. When he felt her body relax into the kiss he gently moved his hand lower, all the time stroking her with his thumb. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, his lips following the same path as his hand. She moaned softly as his thumb caressed her collarbone and his body responded to her desire.

  He moved his free hand to her back and found her bra clasp. He fiddled for a moment without success and she laughed. ‘Do you need some help?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘No, I just need both hands, that’s all.’ He moved his right hand to her back. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Success at last.’

  She gave him a timid smile and leaned forward so the bra and its imitation breasts fell onto the bed.

  He moved back just slightly and looked at her chest. He wanted her to see he was not afraid. And there was nothing to fear. Her chest was flat, that wasn’t such a big deal. And there were two perfectly symmetrical horizontal scars. Fine and silvery in colour, they sat in the place where her nipples had once been, their presence the only mark on her otherwise milky white skin. The scars weren’t ugly. They stood in testimony to her courage. ‘Is it okay if … can I touch …?’

  She nodded.

  He traced his finger along the left scar and then his lips followed suit.

  She placed her hands in his hair and whispered, ‘Thank you.’

  His lips found their way back to her collarbone and then her neck. He pulled back so he could look at her as he said, ‘No, thank you,’ before kissing her mouth once more.

  Chapter 11

  Bea awoke to the winter sun peeking through the crack in her curtains. She never closed them completely because she loved the freedom of not having an alarm. Waking to the morning light was one the pleasures of living out here.

  Speaking of pleasure, had she dreamed that delicious encounter last night? She rolled over. Nope. The beautiful man was still here in her bed, sleeping soundly. It felt too good to be true. She allowed herself a moment to watch him and to revel in the memory of last night’s lovemaking, before sliding quietly out of bed. She didn’t want Mitch to feel uncomfortable when he woke. She wasn’t expecting him to whisper sweet nothings now the reality of the new day was here.

  Last night he’d done more than enough. Mitch had given her a beautiful gift and she appreciated that. He’d made her feel like the most desirable woman on earth.

  He’d made her feel whole.

  Despite what he’d said last night—after a few wines, it had to be said—she had no expectations of anything more than what they’d shared. Of course, now that she’d seen him at his very best, she couldn’t help but feel sad that their relationship would never get off the ground. Another reason to hate the situation she now found herself in. But nothing had changed. She still owed the tax office a truckload of money she couldn’t afford to pay, and sleeping with Mitch hadn’t made her change her mind about accepting his financial help. In fact, if anything it strengthened her resolve to stand on her own two feet, no matter what the consequences.

  But she wasn’t going to spoil this gorgeous sunny morning by dwelling on her money problems. This morning she was going to make them a hearty breakfast and enjoy spending time with Mitch. She was not going to ruin her good mood by thinking about what lay ahead.

  As she headed to her antique wardrobe to collect a robe she caught sight of her naked body in the mirror. She paused for a moment to look at her reflection. Staring back at her was a happy woman, with long toned legs, awesome hair, shining eyes and a couple of scars. She traced her finger along her scars. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. Without them she might not be here. Even if the cancer hadn’t claimed her life, without her decision to have surgery she might very well still be in a toxic marriage and living half a life. She missed her breasts, there was no doubt about that, but she was grateful for the strength and freedom their loss had provided.

  She slipped on her warmest winter robe and tiptoed across the chilly floorboards to the bedroom door. Outside she could hear the patter of paws. Poor Rosie was probably dying to go outside. She edged the door open to find the pup padding towards her. ‘Hello, gorgeous girl,’ she whispered. ‘Do you want to go outside for a bit?’

  Rosie pricked up her ears and wagged her tail in response.

  ‘Come on then.’ She headed down the hall towards the back door with Rosie following dutifully behind. ‘There you go girl,’ she said as she opened the door for the pup to head out. Rosie bounded off, and Bea closed the door to stop the crisp winter air from filtering in. Rosie would let her know when she was ready to come back inside. She made her way to the kitchen to turn on the little fan heater before heading to the bathroom.

  When she returned she found Mitch standing at the open fridge in his boxer shorts.

  ‘Hey beautiful. I wondered where you’d got to.’ He extended his hand. ‘Come here and give me a kiss.’

  ‘I was just letting Rosie out for a run.’ She took his hand and let herself be pulled in for a kiss. ‘Are you ready for breakfast?’

  He nibbled her neck. ‘Yeah, I’m starving.’

  She giggled and pulled away. ‘Be serious will you? What would you prefer? Bacon and eggs or Canadian pancakes?’

  ‘What are Canadian pancakes? I mean what makes them Canadian specifically?’

  She shrugged. ‘Well, my version is big fluffy pancakes, real maple syrup and a side of bacon. It’s my Dad’s favourite breakfast. He always called them Canadian and I guess I never questioned why.’

  ‘Sounds awesome.’

  ‘Pancakes it is.’

  ‘I might go put some clothes on before I give you a hand with that. As much as I’d like to spend more time half naked with you it is a bit chilly in here.’

  ‘I don’t need any help. Why don’t you have a shower while I cook? Fresh towels are in the cupboard under the sink.’

  He grinned and pulled her close again. ‘I’ve got a much better idea. Why don’t you come join me in the shower and then we can both cook breakfast afterwards?’ He started to kiss her neck.

  Bea’s heart soared. Last night hadn’t been an act of kindness. He wanted more. Whether or not that was a good idea she didn’t know. It was hard to think straight with him kissing her collarbone like that. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You’ve convinced me.’

  * * *

  ‘Canadian pancakes are my new favourite breakfast food,’ Mitch said as he laid his knife and fork together on the plate.

  ‘Good thing I showed you how to make them, then. Now you can have them whenever you want.’

  Mitch crinkled his nose and shook his head. ‘N
ah, I’m a slow learner when it comes to cooking. I’m sure mine wouldn’t be a patch on yours. Maybe you’ll take pity on me and we can breakfast together more often.’

  ‘Mitch …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Last night was amazing. And this morning too. But nothing’s changed. I’m still leaving. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to start something when we know it has no future.’

  He’d known this was coming and was prepared. ‘But we already did start something.’

  ‘I thought I was clear last night, that this …’ she pointed her finger at him and back at herself, ‘… that we had no future together. I’m so sorry if I led you to believe otherwise.’ The look on her face was pained.

  ‘No, no. You were clear. That’s not what I meant. This started for me when I met you. I was intrigued, then attracted and now … well, now I don’t want to think about a day without you in it. I can’t help how I feel and I’m not willing to give up on the chance for us to be together. Unless …’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless that’s something you’re not interested in?’

  Her hand reached out across the table and she placed it on top of his. ‘In different circumstances I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’

  ‘So if we could find a way for you to stay in Dulili you’d consider taking this further.’

  She was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Mitch’s pulse thudded in his ears. Had he just made a gigantic fool of himself? Maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe she only agreed to sleep with him because she was leaving.

  ‘I’d be open to talking about it,’ she finally answered.

  A wave of happiness washed over him. Now he knew there was hope, there was work to be done. He looked up at the kitchen clock. ‘Jeez, it’s nearly nine already.’

  Bea gave him a cheeky grin. ‘I guess time flies when you’re having fun.’

  ‘You’re not wrong. Look, as much as I’d love to stay here, I’ve got things I need to do this morning. What are your plans for the day?’

  She shrugged. ‘I was going to start pulling up the carpet in the guestrooms today. Once the en suites are done I’m going to strip and polish the floorboards. Or I was going to, but I can’t see the point now. So I guess I don’t have any plans.’

  ‘Good. One of my jobs this morning is to call my friend, Fiona. She’s the accountant I was telling you about. I’m going to try to get her to see you today.’

  ‘But it’s Saturday.’

  ‘I know that, and I’m not making any promises, but I’m sure if she can she will make time for you. We go back a long way.’

  Bea cocked an eyebrow at him. Was that a hint of jealousy in her eyes?

  ‘Okay so you’ve sprung me. Fiona used to be my girlfriend.’

  Her face coloured and she started to shake her head. ‘I don’t think I’m comfortable with you asking your ex for favours on my behalf.’

  ‘Relax. You didn’t let me finish. She was my kindergarten girlfriend.’

  ‘Oh.’ She laughed. ‘I guess that’s okay then.’

  He stood up and carried his plate to the sink. ‘Shall we do these dishes?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll clean up. You’ve got work to do on the farm.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll let you know what Fiona says.’ He stopped to give her a kiss on the top of her head as he made his way out to the door. Her still-damp hair smelled of the vanilla and honey shampoo he’d washed it with not an hour before. An image of the suds running down between the two small tattoos on Bea’s naked back flashed through his mind and he shook his head to stop the thought going any further. There was no time for that now. He was a man on a mission.

  * * *

  After the dishes were done, the sheets changed and the bed remade, Bea found herself with nothing to do. There was no point doing anything towards the house renovations at this point, but she wasn’t ready to start packing up to leave just yet either. It was probably ridiculous to hope that Mitch’s friend could offer any solutions to her problem, but she was going to hold out to hear what the woman had to say before packing her bags.

  She made herself a fresh cup of tea and took the phone into the living room. What she needed was a big debrief with Em. A chat with her friend was guaranteed to make her feel better and, more importantly, help her sort out how she was feeling about the Mitch situation. She punched in Em’s number and waited, but instead of Em’s cheery voice she got voicemail. Bea glanced at the grandmother clock on the mantle—another spectacular op-shop find—and realised it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. More than likely Em was at her Saturday morning Pilates class. So now it was down to her to sort out her feelings on her own.

  The divorce might have just been finalised but her relationship with Jason had been over for a long time now. They day he told her he thought her decision to have her breasts removed was ‘unnecessary and selfish’ she’d closed her heart to him. And there hadn’t been anyone else since.

  In her heart of hearts she hadn’t dared to hope that there could be anyone else. Em had questioned whether her decision not to have reconstructive surgery was her way of protecting herself against further relationships. Did she want an excuse not to put herself out there? She’d been so sure that wasn’t it. Her decision was to do with accepting what had happened to her and loving herself the way she was. She totally understood why women chose reconstruction, and she hadn’t ruled it out as an option for the future, but for now she needed to embrace the change to her body and her life, not sweep it under the carpet like it had never happened. That’s what she’d been telling herself up until now.

  What if Em was right? What if the reason she didn’t want new breasts had less to do with acceptance and more to do with fear? And where did that leave her now? Mitch didn’t care whether she had breasts or not. He’d made that perfectly clear. So what was she running from? Why was she so resistant to the idea of starting something up with him?

  Bea stared out the living-room window and watched the dark clouds rolling in. This morning’s clear blue sky was gone and it looked as though they were in for a storm any time now. Funny how things changed so quickly.

  Last night she’d been certain that her dalliance with Mitch couldn’t last more than a night, but what if she was wrong? What if by some miracle she was able to keep Honey Hill House? Could she really risk giving this thing with Mitch a chance?

  Her shoulder began to itch in the exact spot where she had the rose tattoo in memory of her mum. As she rubbed her shoulder blades against the back of the overstuffed armchair to scratch her itch, Mama’s last words to her sounded in her ears as clearly as if the woman was in the very same room.

  Be brave, my little honeybee.

  * * *

  ‘Hey Bea. How’re ya doin’?’

  Bea smiled at Johno, the pub’s bartender, as she made her way across the public bar. ‘Not too bad, Johno. Yourself?’

  ‘Can’t complain.’

  ‘You haven’t seen Mitch, have you? I’m meeting him here for a drink.’

  Johno nodded in the direction of the bistro. ‘He’s out back with Fiona Maxwell. Go on through. You can’t miss them.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Mitch waved her over as soon as she pushed the saloon doors open. She’d been surprised when he’d called and asked to meet her here with the letter from the tax office. Apparently Fiona was busy all day but was happy enough to meet them for drinks and dinner at the Dulili pub. Mitch apologised for not being able to pick her up. He said he some errands to run in town and would meet her at the pub at five-thirty.

  He stood up and kissed her on the cheek when she got to the table. Her body stiffened slightly. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of public kissing just yet, but no-one else seemed to take any notice, least of all the blonde curvy woman seated at the table.

  Bea thrust out her hand. ‘You must be Fiona. I’m Bea Elliott.’

  Fiona looked up throug
h heavily mascaraed eyelashes and said, ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Bea.’

  Bea took off her coat and sat opposite Fiona. ‘I’m so sorry you had to come all the way out here on a rainy night like this. I would have been more than happy to meet you at your office during business hours.’

  Fiona smiled. ‘It’s no trouble, honestly. I’m a Dulili girl and I love an excuse to get back here and catch up with old mates. Plus, I do love me a good chicken parma and you can’t go past the one they serve here.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

  Mitch smiled at Fiona. ‘Should we get the business portion of the evening out of the way? I’m sure Bea will feel a lot better once she’s spoken to you.’

  Fiona nodded, but Bea’s mouth went dry. She wasn’t at all sure that Fiona would be able to give her any good news. ‘I don’t think there’s much you can do, actually. I owe the tax office a lot of money.’

  Fiona nodded again. ‘Mitch mentioned that. Did you bring the letter with you?’

  Bea dug around in her handbag for a moment to find the letter and then passed it to Fiona. They all sat silently while Fiona read the brief document.

  ‘This payment is overdue. Is there a reason you didn’t attempt to pay on time? What I mean is, have you had any other notifications that you’ve ignored?’

  Bea shook her head vigorously ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it. I guess because I’ve moved house a couple of times since my last tax return.’

  ‘And you didn’t notify the tax office?’

  Bea shook her head.

  ‘Did you lodge a tax return last year?’

  Bea’s stomach churned. ‘I wasn’t earning any money so I didn’t think I had to.’

  Fiona nodded sympathetically. ‘It’s okay. I’m not here to judge you, only to help. Don’t worry, I’ve seen much bigger debts than this. We’ll be able to sort something out.’

  Mitch reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘See? I told you Fiona would help.’