1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Trent

Trent flinched, dropping the mug he'd been washing into the sink, as the old screen door slammed. Shit! The sound of children's laughter faded as the kids ran down the flagstone path. He glanced out the window over the sink to where Patricia and Steve were at the back gate, loading the last bags into the boot of their car. He breathed a sigh of relief at the thought they'd be gone soon. He loved his sister, and got along well with her husband, but the last few days had been stressful, and not just because of the kids running around everywhere. He washed the last couple of plates, placing them in the dish rack before drying his hands on a tea towel.

"I have no idea why you do that instead of using the dishwasher."

Trent turned at the sound of his sister's voice. "It's therapeutic."

"If you need to wash up for relaxation, you've got a problem. You should take up yoga or mediation," she said. "I saw there's a new spa on the outskirts of town. Maybe you should book yourself in for a massage. Oh! Or I saw your flyer for Pilates."

He chuckled. "I've never taken a Pilates class in my life and can't see myself starting now."

Patricia crossed the room and reached for him, taking his hands. "I'm serious. I worry about you, Trent. You'll drop dead of a stroke or have a heart attack if you don't start looking after yourself properly."

Trent squeezed her hands. "I am taking care of myself. Part of the reason I moved up here to the mountains was to escape the city and for the peace and fresh air, and there's plenty of that around here."

She rolled her eyes. "You left a well-paying job to move out of the city and run a B and B. You're in debt to your eyeballs and this place needs work, little brother. You've swapped one lot of stresses for another. It's not too late, you know. Steve said, with the work you've done so far, you'd probably come out in front if you put this place on the market now."

He dropped his sister's hands. "Jesus, Patty, how often are we going to have this conversation?" He knew she meant well, but she was like a broken record. Not everyone wanted the life she desired for herself.

"I just—"

"You just what? Want me to live my life by your rules? Want me to give up on my dreams because it makes you feel better?"

"Of course not."

"Then what, Patty? You and Steve have been at me the whole time you've been here. Instead of coming to visit to see how happy I am and how much I've got done on the house, you've done nothing but try to convince me to move back to Sydney. How many times do I have to tell you that I am happy, that this is what I want to be doing, and that this place is exactly where I want to be doing it?"

"But—"

"No buts. I'm not interested in moving back to the city and I want to make this place a success. It's my dream life. Mine . Anyway, I think we've said all we need to say on the matter." He glanced out the window again. Splitting up with Mark and following his dreams was absolutely the right thing to do, and he was sick and tired of arguing about it. "Steve and the kids are waiting for you, and I've got guests checking in this afternoon and a chore list a mile long."

She smiled, her face softening. "I'm sorry, hon. My heart's in the right place. I just want you to be happy and if you say this place makes you happy, then I'll leave you alone. Are you still coming to the city for Mum's birthday?"

"Of course."

His mum was turning sixty-five and he wouldn't have missed the celebration for anything, especially not after the last couple of years they'd all had. Losing the man who'd been the heart and soul of the family had been devastating. Even now, just the thought of his father sent a bolt of sadness through him—he had no idea how his mum coped day to day without the love of her life beside her. His parents had been childhood sweethearts, his father taken much too soon, felled by a heart attack that came out of the blue. The tragedy was one of the reasons Trent had left his old life behind—life was too short to be doing something that didn't make his heart happy.

"Great." Her smile was wide. "I'll be in touch soon to discuss arrangements. I was thinking dinner at my place with a few of her and Dad's closest friends. Nothing too big."

"She'd like that."

"Yeah. I thought so too. But hey, in the meantime, don't be a stranger. Okay? We're only a phone call away if you need anything."

Trent pulled Patty into a hug. "I know. Thanks, sis."

They parted, and she retrieved her handbag from where it sat on the kitchen table. Together they went outside and followed the path that ran along the side of the house to the parking area. As he stepped onto the white gravel, he noted the gate was hanging on one hinge. Damn! Another thing to fix. The kids had been swinging on it, but it was hard to be mad at them given the gate was old, and like most of the house, probably worn out.

He ignored the gate, instead holding a hand out to Steve. "Thanks for visiting, mate. It was great to see you."

"We had an amazing time. You've got a beautiful spot here. I can see why you love it so much. I've no doubt you'll be seeing a lot more of us now that Patricia has had a taste of mountain life. Instead of heading all the way to Hobart for a holiday with my brother, Owen, we can be here in a little over an hour. She's probably planning our next weekend getaway right now."

Patricia laughed. "I'd better book in soon. Hopefully, you'll be packed to the rafters with paying guests before too long and might not have room for me."

"Fingers crossed." Trent grinned.

"Anyway, we'd better get this lot home," she said, indicating the two kids fooling around in the back seat. "I'll call next week."

He watched them climb into the car, buckle up, and head down the driveway, his sister's words floating in his head. He hoped she was right and business took off soon.

"Hey, Trent."

He swung around at the deep voice, the familiar tingle in his chest. "Callum."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to creep up on you." Callum ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing the locks back before putting on his cap to hold the unruly mess off his face. Under the shade of the brim, his chocolate-coloured eyes met Trent's, causing him to flush.

Jesus, I need to get over this. He was a forty-five-year-old man, not an adolescent, so seeing Callum shouldn't set him on edge.

"N-No. It's fine," he said, stuttering. He cleared his throat. "I was just seeing my sister and her husband off. They're heading back to Sydney. It was a nice to see them, but it's also good to see them go, if you know what I mean."

Callum smiled. "I get you. Family is great, but they can be a bit much sometimes." He placed a hand on the gate. "I saw the kids swinging on this. I thought I'd fix it now, but wanted to check in and see what else you needed doing today."

Trent gave himself a mental shake, focusing back on work instead of the corded muscles of Callum's tanned forearm and long fingers that gripped the gate. "Yeah, fixing the gate would be good. I've got a couple checking in later this afternoon and a broken gate doesn't make a good first impression. Maybe you could check the arbour seat while you've got the tools out. I noticed one of the bolts seemed a little loose."

Mushroom, his Russian Blue, slunk through the open gate and wound through Callum's ankles. Trent followed her movement as she stopped and rubbed her chin against his leg. Damn, even his cat had a thing for their hot, but straight, handyman.

Callum bent to pick up the cat. "Hello, little one," he crooned as he stroked between her ears.

Mushroom pressed her face to Callum's stubble, totally comfortable in his arms. She was pretty much a one-person cat, so Trent held his breath, but he needn't have worried; he could hear Mushroom's purr from a metre away. Traitor .

Callum's gaze flicked from the cat back to Trent. He smiled, then placed the cat on the ground. She ducked through the gate, the little bell hanging from her collar tinkling as she made her way back to the house. "I'll go get the toolbox. Let me know what else you want me to do."

He watched him walk away. Dressed in khaki pants that hugged his arse and thick thighs, and a navy shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbow, Callum made work clothes sexy. Trent's breath caught and he swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

So much for escaping the city to control his blood pressure—every minute he spent around Callum just seemed to send it higher.