2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Callum

It didn't take long to fix the gate. All it needed was a replacement hinge and luckily he'd been able to find one in the old shed that was filled with all manner of bits and pieces a home handyman would need. Obviously the past owners of the property hadn't thrown anything away. Callum scanned along the shelf of old glass coffee jars until his gaze fell on one that looked promising. He grabbed the jar, unscrewed the lid, and tipped a few screws in his hand, relieved to find two that should do the trick. He pocketed the screws along with the large bolt he'd found earlier and headed to the arbour.

He got stuck into repairing the arbour seat, checking to make sure the structure was solid, relieved to see no sign of weakness or evidence of termites or wood rot. He tightened the loose bolt Trent had mentioned before checking the rest of the seat. There weren't any other problems he could see, nevertheless, he decided to add a few additional screws, figuring you couldn't be too careful.

He hummed as he worked, enjoying the warmth of the late morning sun on his shoulders. Spring had definitely arrived in the mountains, and it was beautiful. He enjoyed the morning outdoors, so much so that when he finished with the seat, he started work on the low picket fence that bounded the car parking area. On his knees, working his way along the fence, checking picket by picket, he'd never been happier. Taking the job as the guest house handyman had been the best decision he'd made in the last couple of years. He snorted. Jesus, who had he been kidding when he'd made the decision to move to Sydney? Or when he'd decided a university degree had been a good idea? That was the last time he'd taken advice from anyone. He wasn't cut out for city life, or the life of an accountant.

The sound of boots crunching in the gravel caught his attention, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He took a second to hammer the nail he'd been working on and collect himself before straightening as Trent approached. Damn, why was it that Trent's presence rattled him every time?

"Hey," Trent said.

Callum looked up, hit by the now-familiar but strange feeling in his gut, a sensation that seemed to magnify tenfold at the sight of Trent above him. Fuck! He swallowed heavily, then scrambled to his feet.

Trent's eyes flashed, something unreadable crossing his expression. "You've been busy," he finally said. "I didn't even have the fence on my list."

Shit. "I'm sorry—"

Trent waved a hand. "Don't be. I'm sure you know more about what needs to be done around here than I do. What's next on your list?"

Callum regained his equilibrium as his thoughts turned to the work to be done. "I'm still working through the tasks we discussed last week. I'm waiting for the delivery of supplies from the hardware store before I can start in the dining room. Once the plasterboard and skirtings arrive, it shouldn't take long to have it done."

Trent nodded. "There's no hurry as the wallpaper is still on back-order, but it'll be nice to know we're ready for it when it arrives. But good news! I found the perfect dining table for the room."

Trent had shared his plans for a formal dining room, somewhere to host private dinner parties. Callum wasn't an expert on the hospitality business, but it made sense to him—that guests might like to book all the rooms in the guesthouse to celebrate a special occasion. He chuckled. "I'll leave the decorating up to you, but I'm keen to see the end result."

"Me too." Trent's smile was wide. "Progress may be slow, but it's good to see every improvement. We make a good team."

Callum warmed at the words. They did make a good team, and he loved the comfortable rhythm they'd fallen into over the last few months. "It sure is satisfying to cross things off the list."

Trent snorted and rolled his eyes. "The never-ending list that seems to get longer every single day."

"Speaking of the list, did you have anything else you wanted added or re-prioritised?" he asked, assuming that's why Trent had stopped by.

Trent shook his head. "Nothing at the moment. I'm throwing together some lunch and thought I'd see if you wanted to come in and join me."

"I'd like that." They'd had some meals together, but the invitation still sent a bolt of warmth through him. Fuck, who'd have thought I was that starved of human company that I'd be excited at the idea of a shared sandwich?

"Good." Trent nodded, his dimple flashing. "Come in anytime you're ready."

Callum echoed his smile. "It won't take too long to finish checking the fence, then I'll clean up and come up to the house."

Callum stepped into the kitchen, making sure the screen door didn't slam behind him. His stomach growled as a delicious scent immediately reached his nose.

"Something smells good."

Trent was standing at the bench, hands holding a plate. He spun around, a grin lighting up his face. "Just in time. Take a seat."

Callum sat in his usual place at the large kitchen table. He warmed at the thought of having "his spot" at Trent's table. "Looks amazing too," he said as Trent put the dish on the table between them.

The quiche was steaming and garnished with fresh herbs, a far sight better than anything Callum would have made himself for lunch. He should have known Trent would serve something more than a simple sandwich. He had a genuine talent in the kitchen, as Callum had learned over their shared meals. Not necessarily elaborate food, but fresh, tasty, and inventive.

"Another one of your experiments?"

Trent chuckled as he leaned across to place a large slice on Callum's plate. "Not this time. I've been making this quiche for years. It's super quick and a good standby when I haven't been grocery shopping. I call it Crisper Quiche. I basically beat some eggs and cream and toss in whatever I have left in the fridge. Today it's mushroom, leek, and Gruyère. Of course, the eggs are fresh from Joe and Mary's this morning."

"How are they doing?" Callum asked before shovelling a huge forkful of quiche into his mouth. The pastry was crumbly, and the filling packed full of flavour.

"Back on track, I think. Mary seems to have recovered well from her knee replacement. She was walking without the stick and even came out in the garden when Joe was showing me around his new plantings. I can't wait to use more local ingredients in my breakfast menu, over and above what I grow myself. And it's nice to support a local small business."

"Speaking of gardens, your herbs are running riot," Callum said. "Talk about a green thumb."

Trent grinned from across the table. "The garden was one of the things that attracted me to this place. I loved the established gardens even if they were overgrown, and it's been rewarding to bring them back to their former glory. Rhododendrons, azaleas, camellias… It's been an awesome change after living in the city, where I only had a couple of planter boxes on a balcony. A labour of love, I guess you could say."

Callum nodded. "I can see the appeal of moving away from the city. It wasn't for me."

Trent's brows rose. "You lived in the city?"

"Only for a year or so. I moved to Sydney to study, but both the city and the career choice turned out to be a big mistake."

"Yeah?"

Callum shrugged. "There's not much to tell. All it took was a couple of weeks at uni, confined to a desk and a lecture hall, and I realised I'd made a huge mistake. I stuck out the first year, but outdoor life and working with my hands suits me much better."

Trent's gaze darted to where Callum's large, calloused labourer's hands were gripping his cutlery, before meeting his eyes again. "Lucky for me," he winked.

Something strange fluttered in Callum's belly at that wink. He immediately focused back on his lunch, cutting quiche and loading his fork. He took a deep breath and didn't look up again until he felt on a more even keel.

"But seriously," Trent continued, "I'm glad you found out early, before you'd invested too much time. Life's too short to waste even a single minute."

Callum nodded. "Leave no stone unturned. Leave your fears behind."

"And regrets can be a bitch." Trent's smile dimmed before he lowered his eyes and focused on his lunch.

Callum studied him for a moment. He'd always considered Trent a go-getter and envied the way he was following his dream with this B&B, but there was obviously a story there. However, the way he kept his gaze downcast and pushed food around his plate led Callum to think now wasn't the time to pry. Was there ever a good time to pry into an area of someone's life that obviously upset them? He hated that he'd unintentionally directed the conversation in a way that had taken some of the shine away from their lunch together, but what he hated more was the sadness that radiated from the man opposite. Not knowing what to say without sounding too inquisitive, he forked more quiche into his mouth. "It really is good," he finally said once he'd swallowed his mouthful. "You're spoiling me rotten with all this food. I might never leave."

Trent looked up, a smile playing at his lips again. "It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?"

"What can I say? I'm a simple man with simple tastes."

Trent chuckled. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but you're welcome at my table anytime."

And somehow, that idea sounded way too good. Long days spent working around the property, shared meals at the worn kitchen table, conversations with Trent about everything and anything—Callum caught himself. Fuck!

He needed to put a stop to those strange thoughts right here and now.