Free The Grass is Greener by Loretta Hill

standing at all. Most of the building was timber and the beige-coloured paint was old and peeling, especially near the roof gutters. The porch sported a ramp rather than steps, which may have seemed odd-looking to some people but made perfect sense to her.
    Bronwyn sighed quietly. Even in its dilapidated state, the house still had the power to take the chill off her troubled heart. She had so many memories of this place and the surroundings. All wonderful.
    Hot sausage rolls.
    Lazy days on the beach.
    Spicy shiraz.
    My first kiss …
    She shook away the daydreams.
    This visit is not going to be quite as relaxing.
    It was one thing to drop by and visit old friends. It was quite another to move in and take over their business. The plan, which had looked good in her mind’s eye, was now starting to pinch at every nerve.
    Elsa barked from the tray of the ute as though in agreement.
    She turned. ‘Yep, girl, this is it. Your new home.’ She ran her hand between Elsa’s ears, looking across the vineyard behind her. Rows and rows of vines rolled over the hills, divided by the gravelly dirt track that cut a path from Rickety Twigg Road to the winery and then to the residence. She had just driven up this track to the house and the wheels of the ute were covered in a rich film of red-brown dust.
    â€˜Here, let me get you a drink.’
    She walked round to the side of the porch where there was a hose and a bucket. She filled the bucket with water and brought it back to the ute for Elsa.
    â€˜Do my eyes deceive me?’
    Bronwyn spun around as the creak of something that wasn’t quite footsteps sounded on the timber floorboards behind her. ‘Chris!’
    The flyscreen door swung closed behind him as he came out. ‘Well, if it isn’t my long lost love, come to break my heart all over again.’
    Her eyes widened as he came fully into view. ‘Wow, Chris, you look fantastic.’
    Chris Franklin was in a wheelchair. But if there was anyone out there that thought they had more vitality than him, she’d dare them to come forward. He wore a loose tank that showed off his impressive biceps and sun-kissed skin. His hair was streaked with gold, further evidence that he spent plenty of time outdoors. He wore shorts and sneakers, so she could see that his legs were skinny from lack of use, but there wasnothing limp about the arms resting lightly but with complete control over the top of his wheels. A mischievous dimple in his right cheek appeared.
    â€˜That makes two of us. I didn’t know you were coming to town.’
    â€˜Neither did I, till yesterday.’
    His eyes moved beyond her. ‘Where’s Claud?’
    Guilt, a familiar companion, slung an arm across her shoulders and drew her close. This was definitely going to be harder than she thought. ‘Do you mind if we hold off on that? It’s kind of a big conversation and I need to get Elsa settled first.’
    â€˜Elsa?’
    â€˜My new dog.’ She pointed at the tray.
    â€˜Wow, Numbat, she’s big.’
    She flinched at the old nickname and her eyes involuntarily lowered as they always used to do. ‘I can’t believe you still remember that stupid name Jack used to call me.’
    â€˜Actually, neither can I.’ He sounded amused, almost like he was mocking himself, not her. ‘Sorry. I have a feeling it doesn’t really suit you anymore.’
    â€˜Well,’ she took a breath and raised her head, ‘I’m not that shy teenager I once was who was too afraid to say a word.’
    He gestured at Elsa. ‘You’ve certainly got a very impressive bodyguard now. No one will mess with you again.’
    The reason why Jack called her Numbat, apart from the fact that he just liked to be annoying, was because when they first met she used to go all quiet whenever he was around. Like she’d gone into a torpor, a state of semi-hibernation that numbats often achieved in the winter.