Brooding Rebel to Baby Daddy

forefront on both of their minds.
“I did! For about three minutes before she scuttled away. I recognised her in a second. All that ridiculously fabulous hair. And those eyes—like she could see straight through to my soul.” Janie sighed. “I was smitten with her back then. Total girl crush.”
“That so?”
“It was the way she moved, all slow blinks and liquid limbs. Like she was floating through life.”
Floating through life. That was Sable. Like flotsam. Tossed about on her formidable mother’s whims. Tossed to New York by a rare chance. To LA by some famous chef...
Now back again.
Rafe had no doubt she’d be tossed somewhere new soon enough.
As if she’d read his mind, Janie added, “She’s different now, don’t you think? Grittier, somehow. Grounded. Dare I say, more interesting?”
More interesting? Even as a teenager she’d been more interesting than he’d known what to do with. Sensitive, emotional, beguiling, and ingenuous, with those strange dreamy eyes, the kind you couldn’t look at long for fear of falling in...
But that was then. And if she was “different” now, he was a new person entirely.
Rafe looked down at his hands. At the oil tattooed into the grooves. The bruises under half his nails. The stubby ends of his fingers. The swollen knuckles. Okay, so not entirely.
He felt the frown pulling at his forehead. He might still be found beneath the bonnet of a car, more often than not, but he was also a successful businessman. A well-regarded collector. Renowned the world over for his ability to spot a gem, to restore the unrestorable.
Not that she needed to know any of that. He did not owe her a thing. Not a conversation, not a coffee. Not any more.
Rafe tipped his chin. “You got all that in the three minutes in which you spoke?”
“Yep,” said Janie with a grin. Then her eyes narrowed. “Hang on a second. She found you, didn’t she? I can tell by the mulish look on your face. How was it? All hearts and flowers and swelling string section? Or did you pull a you and answer in monosyllables?”
Rafe shot Janie a flat stare, only to find she wasn’t laughing at him. She looked concerned. But Janie had nothing to worry about. He leaned over, wrapped an arm about her neck and ruffled her messy hair.
“Hey! This do takes effort.” She ducked out from under his loose grip. “Come on, I want to know how it all went down.”
“While I want dinner. So, I’m gonna head back into town for a real meal.”
Janie threw her ladle into the sink with a clang. “This is barely good enough for the chooks. Give me five minutes to wash up. I’ll drive.”
Rafe laughed before he even felt it coming. Janie, a Thorne and therefore a rebel, drove a tiny battery-operated tin can on wheels when he could have sourced her the coolest muscle car on the planet if she’d let him. “Funny girl.”
“I know right. Don’t leave without me.”
Rafe smiled. “Never.”
For Janie had been right. Radiance was home.
And though Sable Sutton was out there somewhere, and they might yet cross paths again, she would leave, and he’d stay, and that really was all that there was to say about that.
Rafe stood outside the front door of the Airstream, stretching his arms over his head as the weak wintry morning light poured over his bare arms and a sliver of belly beneath the lift of his old T-shirt, the crisp mountain air sending goosebumps in its wake.
The roar of a quad bike had woken him. Janie was out in the paddocks, zooming around checking on her animals.
Smiling, he turned to make his way back inside when he saw someone at the front gate.
Not just any someone. Sable Sutton. Sitting on a post. Boots kicking against the fence palings. What looked like her old camera swinging around her neck.
She must have seen him watching her, as the fence kicking stopped. She lifted her hand in a wave, hit the ground with both feet then started down the drive.
Equal parts disquieted and curious, he made to meet her halfway.
They came to a stop around two metres apart. Minimum safe distance.
She was carrying a tray from Bear’s in one hand, the other she held up to her forehead as she squinted against the morning sun. Her shadowed gaze giving him a quick once-over. He figured he was decent enough in pyjama bottoms and a ragged T-shirt. Till he glanced up in time to see her swallow.
“What can I do for you, Sutton?” he asked, his voice a little rough.
“Me? I’m...” Her gaze dropped to his chest. “Aren’t you frozen solid?”
“I run hot. Remember?”
With that one word, she stilled. Her gaze lifting to meet with his. The years stripping away. Then she shook her head, just the once, her hair floating and settling. Her jaw tightening.
“I brought coffee.” She held one out to him, at arm’s length. “Do you still take yours milky? Sweet?”
He slowly shook his head.
“Oh.” She pulled the coffee back into her side, her expression flagging. Her bottom lip disappearing beneath her top teeth.
She’d never been any good at hiding her feelings. It used to terrify him how readily she entrusted all that vulnerability in his big, rough, dirty hands.
But that was then. This was now. And his hands weren’t going near her vulnerability.
Since it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere till she did what she had to do, he figured the best thing was to let her get there as fast as she could.
He held out a hand. “Just give me the coffee, all right?”
She looked up. Her bottom lip came free, glistening. Plump.
His solar plexus tightened. If he wasn’t running hot before, he was now.
With a grunt, he stepped forward, tugged the coffee out of her hand, then turned and walked back to the Airstream.
Sable fell into step beside him. Easy enough when he was barefoot and she in knee-high boots that hugged her calves as if she’d been sewn into them.
“I’m not going