fighting with Ry and trying her best to stay away from the handsome jerk.
Oh yes, this was excellent stress-diversion therapy, Julia realised and wondered why she hadn’t begun the cleaning aspect of this program sooner. Back in Melbourne she had a super-efficient Greek lady who arrived every second Wednesday and made her old cottage gleam. It made life bearable, especially after pulling fourteen-hour days at the office dealing with the crisis du jour . Coming home to a sparklingly clean home was one of life’s pleasures, she’d decided. No one else’s dirty clothes were ever dropped on the floor. The only dirty coffee mug in the sink was hers. She could watch what she wanted, when she wanted. That was her Melbourne life and she loved it.
Middle Point didn’t have a monopoly on handsome jerks. There were plenty in Melbourne, too, she could attest to that. But none were quite so handsome as Ry Blackburn. On the jerk front, he was still out there, way in front too. She couldn’t believe he’d grabbed her arm, right there on the street, pretending everything should be nicey-nicey between them, whenhis wife was a mere ten feet and a shop window away. He’d been on the phone to her, but that hadn’t stopped him from looking at Julia like she was dinner and he was half-starved.
So he wasn’t only a handsome jerk, he was a sleazy jerk as well.
Julia grabbed the bottle of cleaning liquid, flipped it upside down and squirted it with both hands until it started making farting noises. She stared at the huge white splodge on the tiles before attacking it with both hands, scrubbing furiously until the scourer wore through.
Middle Point was too small. She’d known that all along which was why she’d left in the first place. Now that Ry was back in it she had to get out of the place. For her own sanity.
The next morning, Ry ran harder and faster than he had in months, pounding the sand from Middle Point to Goolwa and back. He’d pushed himself until his quads ached and his running gear was soaked through with sweat. His doctor had told him that exercise was a stress reliever, but when he got home he was more wound up and tense than when he set out an hour earlier.
He could barely think about the night before. Dinner with the Winters had been unbearable. They were nice enough people, David especially, but Ry felt like a freight train was heading right towards him and that he didn’t have the guts to jump out of the way. When the subject of dinner came up, he’d tried to convince them to head over to the pub again for their last night in the Point — he’d joked that he could always get the best table — but they’d insisted on staying in. David had spent an inordinate amount of time fussing over the fireplace, going through almost an entire box of matches, before finally getting the logs roaring into crackling life just as Amanda’s dinner was ready to be served. She’d taken over the kitchen as if she was the lady of the house. The intent wasn’t lost on Ry. She’d spent the whole long weekend trying to insinuate herself into his life, as if this was a trial period and she didn’t want to be returned for the money back guarantee. All that pressure pushed down on him like tropical humidity and he wanted to escape into the night, filled as he was with a polite but confirmed sense of panic. Unfortunately it was kind of hard to escape when it was your house, so he’d gone up to bed early, pleading a big week ahead and an early run. Doctor’s orders, he’d said. Amandahadn’t tried to argue with that, which was a relief. But sleep hadn’t come easy. It had been fitful and restless and he’d tangled in the sheets most of the night. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Julia.
A glance at his sports watch revealed it was seven a.m. and the night-time quietness was still settled over the house. Thank Christ for that. They’re still asleep. The fresh sea air did that to people. It seeped into your lungs
Oh yes, this was excellent stress-diversion therapy, Julia realised and wondered why she hadn’t begun the cleaning aspect of this program sooner. Back in Melbourne she had a super-efficient Greek lady who arrived every second Wednesday and made her old cottage gleam. It made life bearable, especially after pulling fourteen-hour days at the office dealing with the crisis du jour . Coming home to a sparklingly clean home was one of life’s pleasures, she’d decided. No one else’s dirty clothes were ever dropped on the floor. The only dirty coffee mug in the sink was hers. She could watch what she wanted, when she wanted. That was her Melbourne life and she loved it.
Middle Point didn’t have a monopoly on handsome jerks. There were plenty in Melbourne, too, she could attest to that. But none were quite so handsome as Ry Blackburn. On the jerk front, he was still out there, way in front too. She couldn’t believe he’d grabbed her arm, right there on the street, pretending everything should be nicey-nicey between them, whenhis wife was a mere ten feet and a shop window away. He’d been on the phone to her, but that hadn’t stopped him from looking at Julia like she was dinner and he was half-starved.
So he wasn’t only a handsome jerk, he was a sleazy jerk as well.
Julia grabbed the bottle of cleaning liquid, flipped it upside down and squirted it with both hands until it started making farting noises. She stared at the huge white splodge on the tiles before attacking it with both hands, scrubbing furiously until the scourer wore through.
Middle Point was too small. She’d known that all along which was why she’d left in the first place. Now that Ry was back in it she had to get out of the place. For her own sanity.
The next morning, Ry ran harder and faster than he had in months, pounding the sand from Middle Point to Goolwa and back. He’d pushed himself until his quads ached and his running gear was soaked through with sweat. His doctor had told him that exercise was a stress reliever, but when he got home he was more wound up and tense than when he set out an hour earlier.
He could barely think about the night before. Dinner with the Winters had been unbearable. They were nice enough people, David especially, but Ry felt like a freight train was heading right towards him and that he didn’t have the guts to jump out of the way. When the subject of dinner came up, he’d tried to convince them to head over to the pub again for their last night in the Point — he’d joked that he could always get the best table — but they’d insisted on staying in. David had spent an inordinate amount of time fussing over the fireplace, going through almost an entire box of matches, before finally getting the logs roaring into crackling life just as Amanda’s dinner was ready to be served. She’d taken over the kitchen as if she was the lady of the house. The intent wasn’t lost on Ry. She’d spent the whole long weekend trying to insinuate herself into his life, as if this was a trial period and she didn’t want to be returned for the money back guarantee. All that pressure pushed down on him like tropical humidity and he wanted to escape into the night, filled as he was with a polite but confirmed sense of panic. Unfortunately it was kind of hard to escape when it was your house, so he’d gone up to bed early, pleading a big week ahead and an early run. Doctor’s orders, he’d said. Amandahadn’t tried to argue with that, which was a relief. But sleep hadn’t come easy. It had been fitful and restless and he’d tangled in the sheets most of the night. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Julia.
A glance at his sports watch revealed it was seven a.m. and the night-time quietness was still settled over the house. Thank Christ for that. They’re still asleep. The fresh sea air did that to people. It seeped into your lungs
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