Free JustOneTaste by Sami Lee Page A

in the afternoon sun. Instead,
she seemed to fit perfectly into that picture.
    David roused himself from that wistful thought and turned
back to find Kerri grinning at him. He showed her an admonishing look. “Don’t
get ahead of yourself, Kez. She thought Jaxon was mine.” That much had been
clear from the way she’d blanched at the sight of him holding the baby, the
disgust that had hardened her features before Kerri came back out with Jaxon’s
baby bag and started talking about going home to her big studly husband.
    “So now she knows he’s not.”
    “It’s not that simple.”
    “Nothing worthwhile ever is.” Kerri shrugged and started the
car. “Can I help it if I want you to be happy? You’re a smart bloke, Dave. Go
with whatever your gut tells you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Kerri gave him a wave as she started the vehicle and headed
down the driveway.
    David watched her go, contemplating her advice. His gut told
him the same thing it had three weeks ago—having Sarah turn up in his life was
an unexpectedly wonderful stroke of luck for an average guy like him, and he
shouldn’t squander it. He hadn’t been able to resist stealing a slice of the
heaven she offered back then, and no matter what it cost him later he still
couldn’t regret it. What he was going to do about the opportunity her presence
now presented, he hadn’t yet decided.
    He ought to send her packing in that gleaming Mercedes, like
he’d wanted to the instant he realized she still thought fiscal generosity was
the way to his heart. Heart, geez. David didn’t want to think his heart
had gotten so swiftly and irrevocably involved.
    Yet the truth was from their first meeting there’d been
something about Sarah’s direct stare and her faintly curving lips that had
wound around his most vulnerable places and squeezed tight. He hadn’t stopped
thinking about her in the weeks since he’d left her hotel room, even when he
knew it was pointless to dream night and day about a woman who despised him.
    Pitiful stuff, Genero. Truly pitiful.
    Turning on his heel, David headed back toward the small
facility he used to invite visitors in for wine tasting and complimentary
cheese. Sarah stood at the open door, peering inside. When David approached,
she said without glancing at him, “It’s charming. Would you mind if I have a
peek inside?”
    Now would be the time to tell her to take a hike. What came out instead was, “Be my guest.”
    David lingered behind her as she toured the interior,
wondering what she thought of the exposed wooden floors and the bar decorated
with corrugated iron. The old oak barrels used as cocktail tables didn’t exactly
scream class. No doubt she was used to more lavish surrounds.
    “It’s impressive what you’ve done with the place. I know you
inherited it in some disrepair.” She turned and caught his surprised
expression. “You have before and after pictures on your website, and lots of
background information. It’s amazing the vineyard’s beginning to thrive again
after the damage you sustained in the bushfires.”
    Black Saturday must have been the last straw for his Uncle
Fred, whose failing health had contributed to Windy Valley’s declined
productivity. When the bushfires destroyed a good portion of the outer fence
line, allowing kangaroos to graze freely on the crops, David had come from his
sales job in the city to help.
    “My uncle was sick on and off for a long time,” he explained
quietly. “I didn’t know how sick until I got here after the fires and found him
on the floor, barely able to breathe. He died a week later in hospital, from
pneumonia. No one was more surprised than I when he left me this place—except
maybe for my cousin Rick, Fred’s son.”
    “He thought it should have gone to him,” Sarah concluded.
    “Definitely. I guess Uncle Fred thought Rick would sell it.
He travels overseas often for his job and never had any interest in learning
the business. I spent summers here