Free The Other Side of Us (Harlequin Superromance) by Sarah Mayberry Page B

here for you, babe.”
    “Thanks and noted. See you, Pat.”
    She ended the call. She put the phone back on its cradle, then
she turned on the outside light and went to the kitchen.
    The ingredients for the pasta were lined up along the counter,
neatly sliced and diced and ready to go. Two of her pretty Japanese glazed bowls
sat to one side, waiting to be filled. In the living room beyond, the table was
set with cloth napkins and shiny cutlery.
    The last thing she wanted to do right now was entertain a
virtual stranger. The thought of smiling and making small talk with Oliver when
the rug had been pulled from beneath her life made her want to drop her head
back and wail like a child. Yet she couldn’t cancel on him. This dinner was a
thank-you, an acknowledgment that he’d put himself out for her. No way could she
pull the pin on their evening. It simply wasn’t an option.
    Instead, she turned to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of
local white wine she’d bought to accompany their meal. She twisted the cap off
and poured herself a big serving. She sipped as she gazed grimly off into space.
Waiting for Oliver to arrive.
    Waiting for this evening to be over so she could crawl into
bed, pull the quilt over her head and hide from the world for a while.
    Because even feisty, scary, too-many-coffees-intense women were
allowed to have moments of weakness. Weren’t they?
    * * *
    O LIVER SMOOTHED A HAND over his damp
hair. His other hand gripped the neck of a bottle of wine and Strudel’s lead as
he stood on Mackenzie’s doorstep, waiting for her to respond to his knock.
    Dumb, but he was nervous. About what, he had no idea.
    Annoyed with himself, he turned to study the paved area in
front of her house. Unlike him, she hadn’t done a thing about the damage from
the storm so mud and gravel and debris were still strewn across the expanse.
    The snick of the lock had him spinning around as the door
opened. Mackenzie smiled at him, pulling the door wide.
    “Right on time. The perfect guest.”
    Mr. Smith rushed out, launching himself at Strudel. A
complicated exchange of sniffs, licks and tail wags took place, both dogs
quivering with excitement.
    “Well. That’s them settled for the evening,” Mackenzie
said.
    She looked different. It took him a beat to work out what it
was—makeup and real clothes instead of workout gear. Small changes, but enough
to make him realize something he hadn’t admitted to himself before tonight. She
was an attractive woman. Verging on beautiful, with her delicate features and
striking blue eyes.
    He offered her the bottle. “Not sure if you’re a red or white
person or an equal-opportunity wine swiller like myself, but this looked
good.”
    She examined the label. “It is. One of my favorite local
vineyards, actually.”
    She gestured for him to enter, making him clue in to the fact
he was still hovering on the doorstep like a nervous schoolboy. He shrugged,
feeling stupid and self-conscious, and stepped into her small entryway. Strudel
strained at her leash, eager to cavort more fulsomely with her new beau.
    “Hope you like pasta. And I bought a lemon tart for dessert,”
Mackenzie said.
    “Sounds great.” It did, too. Lunch had been hours ago, a cheese
and Vegemite sandwich he’d shoved into his face one-handed while sorting through
one of the many boxes of books in the back bedroom. “Is it okay if I let Strudel
off the leash?” Before she choked to death trying to get at Mr. Smith.
    “Of course.”
    He unclipped the lead and Strudel and Mr. Smith rampaged down
the hall, disappearing in no seconds flat.
    “No worries, guys, we’re cool. We can look after ourselves,”
Mackenzie called after them.
    He smiled at her wry tone. “Hard not to feel like chopped liver
sometimes, eh?”
    “I think Smitty would be more interested in chopped liver, to
be honest.”
    She led the way to the kitchen, her perfume leaving a scented
wake.
    “I never got around to asking, is this a permanent