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Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek
Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek

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Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek

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‘Right on time.’ Joe grinned. ‘The sun’s well over the yardarm.’

They opened a bottle of chilled champagne and chose a CD by a singer they’d both loved years and years ago. And the music was light and breezy and the day rolled pleasantly on.

Jacko romped with his toy dog and played the new game of hide and seek, putting the dog behind cushions and then the curtains. Joe and Ellie made a salad with avocado, three kinds of lettuce and herbs. They set the dining table for lunch with the seafood platter taking pride of place. They added bowls for the crab shells and finger bowls floating with lemon slices.

They pulled bonbons that spilled rolled-up paper hats and corny, groan-worthy jokes. Jacko blew whistles and pulled crackers that popped streamers. The adults ate seafood and drank more champagne, while Jacko had orange juice and chicken. They laughed.

They laughed plenty.

Over plum pudding with brandy cream, while Jacko enjoyed ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, Joe told some of the funnier stories from Afghanistan. Ellie recalled the bush yarns the ringers had told around the campfire during last winter’s cattle muster.

Joe couldn’t drag his eyes from Ellie. She was glowing—and not from the wine. Her smiles were genuinely happy. Her dark eyes shone and danced with laughter. Even in an unflattering green paper hat, she looked enchanting.

And sexy. Dangerously so.

Seafood in the outback was a rare treat and she ate with special enthusiasm, sometimes closing her eyes and giving little groans of pleasure.

One time she caught Joe watching her. She went still and a pretty pink blush rose from the white frill on her blouse, over her neck and into her cheeks.

Watching that blush, Joe was tormented.

This truce was perilous. It was setting up an illusion. Messing with his head. Encouraging him to imagine the impossible.

* * *

After their long leisurely lunch, Ellie bundled a sleepy Jacko into his cot. The new black and white puppy, now named Woof, took pride of place next to his much-loved teddy bear. He was one very happy little boy.

On leaving his room, she found, to her surprise, that the dining table had already been cleared. Joe was in the kitchen and he’d cleared away the rubbish. He’d also rinsed their plates and glasses, and had almost finished stacking the dishwasher.

‘Goodness, Joe. The Army’s turned you into a domestic goddess.’ And a sex god, she thought ruefully. Or is it just too long since I’ve had a man in my kitchen?

Grabbing the champagne bottle from the fridge, Joe held it up with a grin. ‘Want to finish this? There are a couple of glasses left.’

Ellie smiled. She was loving everything about this Christmas. ‘It would be a crime to let those bubbles go flat.’

They took their glasses back to the lounge room. Outside, it was still drizzling and grey, but it was cosy inside with the coloured lights on the Christmas tree and a jazz singer softly crooning, and with Joe sprawled in an armchair, long legs stretched in close-fitting jeans and a white open-necked shirt that showed off his tan.

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