It was hot out there.
He had his back to her, his hands at his hips, talking to an older man, who Lizzie had figured was probably the electrician. Dan's navy T-shirt was damp between his broad shoulder blades and she could see sweat glistening on his forearms. The short sleeves were tight on his biceps and his chest, and his work jeans hugged his thighs in every place that counted. He'd had a baseball cap pulled over his thick, black hair, and as he'd turned slightly in her direction, she noticed a pair of aviator-style sunglasses covered his eyes.
Six kinds of handsome had turned into a definite seven. With a bullet.
When she noticed the tan-coloured leather tool belt, heavy with equipment, slung low on one hip, her pulse went soaring up into the stratosphere. There was something so unbelievably sexy about a man who could do the kinds of stuff that required the wearing of a tool belt.
Back at her desk, the phone rang. She reached out to grab it and knocked over her glass of water, soaking a pile of papers.
'Lizzie Blake,' she announced with false cheer as she pressed the receiver to her ear.
'Hello, Lizzie dear. It's Shirley from the Naughty Knitters.'
Lizzie ripped a dozen tissues from the box on her table and pressed them on the soggy invoices. 'Delighted to hear from you, Shirley.'
'Now, Lizzie. We've heard all about your Christmas market and the girls and I are very keen on setting up a table. We're trying to raise some money for the nursing home. They could do with a new TV.'
'Shirley.' Lizzie let out a tired sigh. 'That's just wonderful. We'd love to have you. Can I take your address so I can send you some details?'
The call had been a good distraction. After that, Lizzie had applied the bum glue and got her head back into work. Within ten minutes, thoughts of Dan crashed right back in. She threw her head into her hands and sighed. Mixing work and play had been such a bad idea. She laid the blame squarely at Julia and Ry's feet. They'd put ideas into her head about Dan and she'd simply got carried away. Was it any surprise, given how gorgeous he was and how long it had been between man drinks? Any woman in the vicinity of that seven kinds – scratch that – eight kinds of handsome for too long, would melt like an ice cream on a summer's day. She'd been no different. Julia and Ry had wanted her to help him, set her a simple task to reach out to him, see that he was all right.
And what had she done? Had sex with him, which hadn't seemed to be very helpful at all. He was now more distant than ever. And all it had done to her was confuse her and make her long for something she couldn't have. Anna already had him. Her own night with Dan had clearly meant more to her than it had meant to him. He'd hadn't pretended it was going to be anything else. She was the one who had gotten carried away and let herself think she was in love with him.
The best thing she could do was to create some distance between them and get back to work. The renovation was almost complete and Dan's work at the pub would soon be done. Lizzie could be content in the knowledge that she had lived up to her deal with Ry and, importantly, the outdoor dining area and market would be up and running. She had Julia back in her life now and Joe was home, at least for the summer. Life was good. Lizzie had never had too many expectations about having much else beyond the ordinary.
So she'd spent some time with Dan and he'd scratched an itch. Well, she had too. Maybe her feelings for him were a trick of memory as well. She was mixing guilt over his accident with sympathy for him and conflating them into something else entirely. Something real and special between the two of them. Something he clearly felt for someone else. Someone like Anna. She'd just have to get over it. And she had plenty of distractions to keep her busy.
Starting now. Another call.
'Hey, Jools.'
'Lizzie, it's me.'
'I know.'
'I've got great news.' Julia's voice was fizzing with excitement. 'We've set a date for the wedding.'
Lizzie sighed. How typical of her life. She was heading in one direction and Julia was diving headlong the other way. And while her funk had seen her scouring the depths for all that had gone wrong with Dan, she was over the moon happy that Julia had finally got it right with Ry.
'When did this all suddenly happen? Weren't you waiting for … '
Dan. They'd been waiting for Dan.
'Ry asked Dan and he said yes, so … it's party time. We're getting married!'
Lizzie's heart sank. Dan was best man and she was the bridesmaid. She knew they'd been waiting to ask him, delaying it until they thought he seemed to be getting back to his old self. They'd obviously made the judgment that he was. And Lizzie had to agree that all the signs were positive. Dan had gone back to work. He was turning up at the pub, getting out and about in Middle Point. Good for him. He'd clearly found what he'd needed to get him back to his old life: someone from his old life. More things had been broken in the car accident than just his leg and his nose and a few other bones. If Anna was what he needed, he deserved her.
Things were falling into place for everyone. Julia was marrying the man she loved and who adored her. They deserved every piece of that happiness, having waited fifteen years for each other.
As for Lizzie, what was she worthy of? Good friends, family, a community she loved. The best beach in the world. French champagne once a year. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that would never be spectacular but sometimes ordinary was okay.
'I've got a deal for you, Jools. If you help me with the market, I'll help you with the wedding.'
'I'll take it,' Julia laughed.
Dan looked around the car park, which didn't resemble a car park anymore. The grey cobblestone pavers were laid, giving the space a rustic feel that suited the old stone pub. Around the edges, garden beds had been dug over but were still empty. That was the next job. The trees were expected any day now and the supplier had recommended a variety of smaller, salt-tolerant shrubs to fill out the beds. The whole place was on its way to being transformed and Dan felt proud of his part in it.
He lifted his sunglasses off his nose and swiped his forearm against his forehead. He was clearing up the site and it was satisfying work filling the skip, hearing the clatter and crash of building materials as he threw pieces of paver and stone into it. He felt a wrench at the thought that it would soon be over. He told himself that feeling of regret was about the project, and not about the fact that his work with Lizzie would be at an end. He glanced towards the pub's back door, wondered what she was doing right now. Staying out of his way, no doubt.
And could he blame her? He felt guilty for not keeping his word about taking her up to McLaren Vale for lunch as he'd promised. Hell, more than guilty. Hadn't he stood right here, on almost this very spot, and told her he didn't want to hide that they'd spent the night together? When he'd pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and she'd kissed him right back, she'd almost blown his head off.
Dan felt like kicking his own arse. He'd got carried away. He'd gone too far. He wasn't ready to dive into anything, not when he had a Damoclean sword hanging over his head, ready to strike without warning. He'd figured the panic attacks had stopped for good but Anna had warned him they might return. That was the cruel trick of what was happening to him.
He pulled his cap lower down on his face. Since he'd seen Anna, he felt himself slipping back to a place he'd thought he'd left behind. This seesaw of feeling good and then feeling like shit was beginning to wear him down. She'd convinced him that talking through what had happened would help. She'd got him to remember things about being in hospital, tried to dredge up memories that he'd locked away for his own sanity. It was painful and exhausting and he was scared as hell of slipping back into the darkness. How could he start anything with Lizzie while he felt that way?
The back door of the pub creaked open and he turned at the sound of it. Lizzie was propping it open with her backside so she could make her way through hands-free. She was carrying a tray, on it a silver jug and two long glasses, clinking with ice. The bright sun hit her like a spotlight and the breeze coming off the beach ruffled her hair and fluttered the collar of her white sleeveless shirt.
'I thought you guys might need a drink,' she called.
'The sparky left. He's finished up.'
'Oh.'
When he saw Lizzie hesitate, he stepped forward. 'But I'll take one of those if you're still offering.'
'Of course.' Lizzie held the tray out towards him and instead of taking a glass, he took it from her hands. She lifted the jug, poured chilled water into one of the glasses.
'There you go,' she said.
'What about you?'
She looked up to meet his eyes, hesitant.
'C'mon,' he said softly. She poured a second glass. Dan nodded for Lizzie to follow him. There weren't any chairs out there, but there was a stacked pile of pavers in the far corner left over from the job, and they walked over and sat down.