The Dairy Farmer's Daughter Page 10

  She pulled him up and wrapped her legs around him as he pushed himself into her. He watched her face—her eyes closed, and she appeared to be savouring every single sensation.

  God, she was beautiful. And his, all his.

  He cupped her chin with one hand and leaned in close. His kiss was hot and fierce, his body hard and tense, as if he could show her without words how he felt about her.

  She cried out his name as they came together, a hot mess of limbs and satisfaction.

  They had dried off after their shower and retreated to the warmth of the bed. Contented and happy, Justin lay on his back with Freya's body cradled against his side, her head on his chest.

  "I wish we could stay here all day." Her voice was wistful.

  "Me too." He drew lazy circles on her back with his fingertips.

  She rested her chin on him, and she looked at his face. "I have to get up though. I have to prepare for the ag show this weekend."

  He frowned. "What ag show?”

  “The Maleny Agricultural Show is on this Friday and Saturday.”

  “Is that like the Brisbane Ekka, with rides and show bags?"

  She giggled. "Yes, but on a much smaller scale. This is just a country show with more of an emphasis on the animals and machinery than sideshow alley and fairy floss."

  He smiled at her as he said teasingly, "But just so I've got this correct, there will be dagwood dogs, right?"

  "Yes, there will be dagwood dogs." She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. "I can't believe you like them. They're just a sausage on a stick, covered in batter and fried."

  In between kisses, he murmured back at her, "Not all of us were raised with chefs in the family."

  She started nibbling his neck, kissing down his chest.

  "What else can I expect from this show?"

  "Dad is one of the cattle judges"—she licked, and nibbled, and sucked—"and Greer is entering the cake-decorating competition.”

  He groaned as she teased one of his nipples. “Are you entering anything?”

  “No, but I'm running a stall for Emerald Hills. We'll have samples and kids’ activities."

  "Will you be busy the whole time?” His mind was starting to cloud over with desire, and he didn't know how much more he could take.

  "I'm sure I'll be able to get away for a little while and show you some of the show highlights." Her hand headed south, and he gasped as she clenched him.

  "There's a rodeo on Saturday night and fireworks," she said casually. “It’ll be fun.”

  Justin was breathing deeply, practically gasping, as she moved her hand up and down. “I know something else that’s fun.”

  “Umm …" She exhaled as she wriggled her way down his body and took him between her teeth.

  He sank back onto the bed and thanked his lucky stars he had stayed in town.

  Chapter 15

  Justin sipped his coffee and looked out the window. The rain had been falling consistently all night and puddles had formed on the dirt driveway.

  Freya had finally forced herself to leave Boyd’s place with the promise of meeting up later in the day. He admired her dedication to her work and her family. He was finding it hard to find things about Freya Montgomery that he didn't like.

  Without her there, the silence in the house was deafening. Already he missed her smile, her laugh, and her touch. What was it going to be like when he left?

  The prudent thing would be to leave before he became any more involved with Freya and her family. But the thought of doing so wrenched his heart so painfully, he couldn't stand it.

  He turned back to his laptop. Working here was impossible without her, so he saved his document and closed the lid. Maybe a change of scenery would help. He grabbed his car keys and opened the front door. He shivered when icy wind smacked into his face, chafing his lips and making the tip of his nose ache. He climbed into his car, dialled up the heater, and rubbed his hands together.

  He drove carefully along the muddy driveway, trying not to get bogged. He understood now why all the locals owned four-wheel-drives.

  Turning onto the main road, he decided to explore more of the town and see where people lived. He was also curious to see the golf club, which he had heard talk of at the pub.

  He surveyed the landscape. It seemed suburbia had crept its way farther out of town than he had expected. He turned down a narrow, built-up street. The sleek bitumen road extended into the distance. Driveways intersected it every few metres, leading to identical-looking houses which were built so close together they were practically touching.

  He recalled what Stephen had said—that there was a lot more money in subdivision than running a few cows. People liked their big houses and small bits of dirt, and there was a shortage of affordable housing in Maleny and the rest of the Hinterland.

  He was accustomed to this sort of overcrowding in the city, used to apartment buildings and gated communities. But after living in Boyd's house, surrounded by acreage, the housing estate made him feel claustrophobic.

  He found his way back to the main street and soon enough saw signs to the golf club. It was empty today—the rain must have been keeping people indoors. His stepfather was a golf-lover, and Justin had played the occasional game with him. The Maleny Golf Course was small and hilly, but he knew Geoff would have enjoyed the challenge it presented.

  He continued driving and noticed a sign in front of an old house declaring it Pattemoor House, an historic property. It was a colonial-designed, single-storey house with a wide wrap-around veranda. He remembered seeing an early photograph of it in the library when Freya took him there. He smiled to himself, and silently congratulated the historical society for preserving it and keeping it in such good condition.

  Back in town, he pulled up in front of a café advertising his new favourite—Maleny Coffee. He grabbed his laptop and headed inside.

  The café was one of many on Maple Street, but its hanging plants and bohemian furnishings drew him in. The tables were all filled with couples and groups chatting over coffee, and huge platefuls of delicious-looking food.

  At the counter, he was served by a woman wearing a black apron and a friendly smile. She glanced at his laptop. "We have a loft upstairs. It's quieter there if you need to get some work done."

  "Perfect," he said and ordered the big breakfast and a large flat white.

  He poured himself a glass of water from a jug on the counter before starting up the stairs. He was pleasantly surprised to find a spacious, light room with only a few people occupying tables. The walls were covered in framed pictures of plants and shelves full of greenery and books. He chose a table by a window and set up his laptop.

  The hum of the coffee machine and people chattering downstairs did nothing to distract him from the work he had been procrastinating from. He took a break from the app he was designing when his big breakfast arrived. It was piled full of crispy bacon, sausages, potato rösti, mushrooms, a fried egg, and tomato.

  "Are you Justin?" The same lady who had taken his order and delivered his meal asked.

  He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I am."

  "Don't look so surprised. You know you can't hide in a small town," she said with a smile. "I'm Meredith. I went to school with Freya.”

  He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Is this your place?”

  “It is.” She put her hands on her hips and looked around proudly.

  “It’s got a great vibe about it, and the food looks amazing."

  "I hope you enjoy. It's hard competing with Greer, but we all do pretty well. Let me know if you need anything and enjoy your meal."

  "Thanks." He smiled at her before she headed back down the stairs.

  He couldn't help himself groaning as he took his first bite. He savoured every morsel and surprised himself at how quickly he got through it.

  "He's upstairs," Meredith said with a wink as she accepted the cartons of milk Freya had brought her. She didn't usually do the deliveries, but whe
n Meredith had casually mentioned Justin was at her café, Freya had insisted she bring the milk right over.

  Freya pretended to look shocked. "Who is?"

  "You know very well who." Meredith glanced around before leaning in conspiratorially. "He's a looker, too. If you hadn't already called dibs, I might have made a play for him myself."

  "Meredith! What would your husband say?" Freya scolded her with a smile. Meredith had married straight out of high school and had never admitted to regretting it.

  "I'm allowed to look. He's sweet, too. He's been here for hours drinking coffee and he enjoyed my big breakfast. So, tell Greer she's got to up her game."

  Freya blew her friend a kiss and climbed the stairs to the loft. She paused at the top to watch Justin. He was angled sideways to her with his head down, staring at the computer screen, his fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard. He was so focused on what he was doing.

  As though he sensed her watching, he paused and turned in his seat to find her staring.

  "Hey, you," he said as she walked towards him.

  "Hi." She kissed him on the cheek before slipping into the chair opposite. "Meredith tells me you've been here all morning. Have you got lots of work done?"

  He nodded. "I have, and don't tell Greer, but the food here is really good. Even the gluten-free things."

  "Are you ready for a break? It's stopped raining; we could take a walk."

  "Sounds good. I need to burn off some of those calories." He packed up his laptop and followed her down the stairs. They stopped at the counter to pay, and Meredith insisted he come back anytime he needed some peace and quiet. Then, when Justin's back was to her, Meredith caught Freya's attention and gave her two enthusiastic thumbs up.

  They walked down the street together, stopping to gaze at window displays, and chat about the things for sale. The lolly shop had an interesting display of exotic and international sweets. The second-hand bookstore had Australian historical novels in the window and across the road there was an art gallery which they explored. They took their time, pointing out and discussing their favourite pieces. Freya had always loved the clay artwork made by another local friend of hers.

  But it was in the bookstore, set in a beautiful art-deco style building, that they spent most of their time perusing—everything from the new releases, to the self-help and gardening sections, to the children's section with its bright colours and comfy furniture.

  "Has this bookstore been here for a long time?" he asked her.

  "As long as I can remember. It's changed owners a few times though."

  "I think I remember it from my childhood."

  Her heart leapt. She desperately wanted him to feel a connection to the town, and a childhood memory could do that for him. "I remember Mum saying that we would come here for playgroup, especially in winter. Maybe your mum brought you here?"

  "She didn't make many friends; that was part of the reason why she left. She didn't have any support."

  "That must have been hard for her. Alone with a baby, a husband who was always working, and no close friends." Freya said thoughtfully.

  He gave the smallest of shrugs.

  "I’ve spent many, many afternoons in here. It's my favourite shop in town." She caressed a shelf full of novels.

  "I can see why."

  They left the warmth of the bookstore and continued walking until they had seen both sides of Maple Street.

  "I should let you get back to work," she said, even though she didn't want to leave him. She enjoyed their time together so much, even when they were just walking around talking.

  "If I'm going to take Friday off to help you at the ag show, then I really do need to get more done today." He sighed. "Come over tonight?"

  His hand rested on the curve of her back and his touch was so soft, so intimate, and so suggestive.

  The hairs bristled on the back of her neck as she leaned into him and whispered in his ear, "What did you have in mind?"

  "We could stay in and get food delivered."

  "Sorry, no one delivers up here. But I can pick something up, or better yet, we can cook something together."

  "I like to eat food but I'm not a great cook," he confessed.

  "When you live with Greer and Nina Montgomery, you pick up a few things." She smiled. "We'll do something simple."

  "Simple and fast," he said and kissed her cheek. "There are other things I'd rather spend time doing with you tonight."

  She kissed him and ran her hands over his shoulders. "There are plenty of fun things we can do in the kitchen."

  "In that case, maybe you should bring some cream with you."

  She kissed him again and reluctantly let him go. She felt like skipping all the way back to her car. It had been hard enough to get any work done this morning and now, with those kinds of thoughts in her mind, she wondered how she would accomplish anything for the rest of the day.

  Chapter 16

  Freya knew from past years that people always arrived early, eager to order their breakfast rolls and buy their show bags before they sold out.

  The Emerald Hills exhibit was on the main field, which the soccer club usually played on. They had erected a giant, white marquee to cover their displays of cheese, milk, and yogurt as well as photos and an informational movie playing on repeat. This year, they also had a fenced-in children's area with ride-on sheep and cow toys. Bales of hay were strategically placed so parents could get a coffee from the Maleny Coffee vendor next door, then sit and rest while their children played.

  With a pause in the festivities, Freya walked outside the marquee to survey the rest of the exhibits. Strong smells of animals and fried food wafted through the crowds of lively people, all enjoying a sunshiny day. It was very different to the previous year when it had rained so hard the grounds had taken weeks to recover, and the soccer teams had had to postpone their home games.

  She waved and greeted neighbours and friends as they passed and smiled, and she watched eager children begging their parents for rides, prizes, and fairy floss.

  But it all faded as she saw Justin strolling toward her. His gait was relaxed and loose, so different to when she had first met him. He had been as jumpy as a kangaroo then. Now, it was as though a cloud had lifted and his true self was shining through.

  She jumped him when he was close enough, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and breathing him in. She couldn't get enough of him. He held her tightly as though it hadn't been just twenty-four hours since they had last seen each other.

  "I didn't know there were this many people living in Maleny." He released her and looked at the building crowds of people.

  "This is quiet. Just wait until the lunchtime rush." She took his hand and walked him back inside the marquee. He looked around, studying all the little details she had added to the space to make it welcoming and fun for people. Like the beanbags and display of farm-themed children's books, or the games of skittles people could play using Emerald Hills-branded milk bottles.

  “You’ve outdone yourself.”

  His compliment made her feel warm and giddy.

  “Thanks.” She took him to the display of old photographs she had put up, and pointed to a black and white one in the centre. "Recognise this house?"

  He studied the picture of a house with cattle in front of it and a man hard at work, building a fence. "It's Boyd's farm."

  She nodded. "Anthony Wheeler built it in 1912 for his family. That's your great-grandfather."

  Justin's eyebrows rose, and he leaned in to study it further.

  A family chose that moment to enter the tent, so Freya went to greet them and offer them free samples while Justin pondered his family heritage.

  Greer arrived at midday to relieve them. It had been a busy morning, and Freya was grateful for Justin's help. He had handed out samples and played with kids without any complaints at all. Many of her friends had commented on how much they liked him, and how happy she seemed.

  They walked hand in hand down
the path, stopping to browse vendors and displays. Show noise filtered across the grounds—the varying calls of livestock, screams from the stomach-tumbling rides, and squeals and babbles of hyper-excited children.

  "This is so impressive. I had no idea there were so many local businesses." Justin said.

  Freya smiled. "Apart from rural ventures, we have makers of skincare, make-up, art, clothing, perfumes and oils, and plenty of musicians and authors. It's a very creative town; it’s not just tourism that keeps us going."

  "What do you want to eat? The potato slinkies are amazing." She pointed to a food van with pictures of sliced potato curled around a long skewer. "They fry it and season it with chicken salt. It's so good." Her mouth watered at the memory.

  "Let's start there. Then we find dagwood dogs.”

  They munched their way through potato slinkies, dagwood dogs, and a punnet of chips before heading into the pavilion.

  Entering the main building, they walked slowly past entries submitted for the arts and crafts competitions. Freya smiled as she looked at the children's pictures which were mostly of farm animals, machinery and landscapes.

  The adult section followed and displayed photographs, paintings, sculptures, wood-work, quilts, and other artistic wares.

  "Now for the food," Freya said, throwing Justin a cheeky glance. "This is always fun."

  There were several plates of jam drops and chocolate chip biscuits on display, as well as cakes and slices. Brightly coloured ribbons and certificates showed which delicacies had been awarded best in show.

  "There's a men's section?" Justin pointed to the category description above an array of chocolate cakes.

  "Yep. Only men can enter this category, and they get to use a packet mix."

  Justin bent his head, comparing the winner's cake to the others, which all looked remarkably similar. “Do the judges get to try them all?”