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growled under his breath. Newsflash, CC, I don’t understand a thing. Whatever’s going on between us is a complete mystery. What I want is no longer clear. I feel like I’m walking in deep mud and every now and then stepping onto a dry patch. A brief moment of hope before sliding back into the mire.

      His right foot pushed against the ground to set the hammock swinging. Stretched full length, he linked his hands together behind his head. The dark sky twinkled with so many stars it was as though a kid had lit up a whole pack of sparklers. The hammock was unbelievably comfortable. So far the mosquitoes hadn’t found him. Hopefully when they did, he’d put enough insect repellent on what little skin was exposed to deter them.

      His heart was back in the bure, lying next to Olivia. His mind was seeing the despair and fear that sometimes altered her expression and briefly filled those eyes that usually reminded him of flowers. Whatever had caused her grief, she wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Yet.

      Come on. Why should she choose to bare her soul to him?

      Because they were connected. They mightn’t have known it before but the threads were becoming more obvious by the day. They both had issues holding them back from getting into a serious relationship. What Olivia’s troubles were he had no idea, but they were there. He recognised his own stock standard coping mechanisms in her now that he’d started looking for them.

      He wanted to hold her, protect her for ever.

      Kind of strange for a guy who had no plans to commit to settling down. Yet all the reasons for why he shouldn’t were slipping away, one by one dropping off the edge, leaving him exposed and cautious yet strangely ready to try for the rainbow.

      Was Olivia the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow?

      No. There wasn’t any rainbow. The hardest lesson of his life had been that night of the accident when he’d learned his parents didn’t love him unconditionally. Didn’t love him enough to support and help him through the trauma of what he’d done. Sometimes he wondered if they’d loved him and Mark at all; as in deep, for ever, parent kind of love. Their careers had been their priority, taking all their time and concentration, with nothing left over for their sons. Why did they have children? They clearly hadn’t wanted to be with their sons. Zac had asked his grandfather about it on numerous occasions but Grampy hadn’t been able to come up with a satisfactory answer. Not one he was prepared to tell his grandson anyway.

      Zac swallowed the usual bile that came from thinking about his parents. Coming from a dysfunctional family, the odds were he’d be bad at parenting too. Another reason not to settle down with a wonderful woman and contemplate the picket-fence scenario.

      Zac’s sigh was long and slow. Around him everything had gone quiet, and lights were being turned off. With nothing to do after dinner most people would be settled in their bures. He pushed with his foot again, swinging the hammock high, sighing as the movement slowed and the arc became less and less. Beyond the edge of the lawn the waves rolled up the sand, then pulled away, rolled in, pulled away.

      ‘Zac, come inside.’

      Someone was shaking his arm gently.

      ‘Come on. Wake up. You’re getting wet from the dew.’

      Hauling his eyelids up, he saw her leaning over him, her long hair framing her face. ‘Olivia.’ His Olivia.

      ‘The one and only.’ She tugged at him. ‘You can’t spend the whole night out here.’

      Swinging his legs over the side, he awkwardly pushed out of the hammock. ‘What time is it?’

      ‘One o’clock.’ She took his hand and led him inside to that damned bed with its row of pillows down the middle.

      Zac shucked out of his shirt and trousers, jerked the bedcover back and threw the pillows on the floor. Dropping into bed, he reached for Olivia where she now lay on her side, facing him. ‘Roll over,’ he whispered. ‘I want to hold you all night.’

      If only it were that easy.

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