Chapter 6

MACKENZIE

I may not always do well with the quiet, but somehow, I find the most peace at the river. When I need to free my mind of unwelcome thoughts, this is where I come. To the small jetty at the back of Henley and Kristen's house.

Well, it's my house too, they tell me. But that feels weird to say. And honestly, that's another reason I come here. To give them privacy.

I know I'm welcome in the house. They've never done anything to make me feel otherwise, though it's hard to imagine them not wishing they had more time to themselves. I know my time staying here with them is limited.

I'll have to get my act together and find my own place one day. I can hardly stay here when they're newlyweds or even worse, and I know I might be getting ahead of myself here but, new parents.

I balance my art book in my lap, a half-drawn sketch of the old oak tree across the bank filling its current page. This one has taken me a while because I've been trying so hard to get every detail perfect. To capture the way the light hits its leaves making them glisten like tinsel and the depth of each groove in the bark of its trunk.

My concentration is strained today. I can't seem to get the conversation I had with Dylan yesterday out of my mind. It isn't like me to be so open, to share my thoughts so easily and disclose information about my past. In fact, I usually do everything in my power to keep it all inside.

I've been silently reprimanding myself ever since, but there was a vulnerability in the way he spoke to his father on the phone that intrigued me. Dylan gives the impression that he just cruises through life, but obviously things aren't all sunshine and rainbows within his family. Still, I should have known better than to trust him so quickly. God knows I've made that mistake before.

"What are your plans for today?" Henley's voice disturbs the silence of the creek, and my pencil falls from my grip onto the jetty.

Startled, I turn to find him standing behind me, sipping from an extra-large mug, barefoot and shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of green and blue boardshorts.

"Shit, Henley," I curse. I knock the pencil forward trying to grasp it and it slips through the crack between the planks of wood. "Don't fucking creep up on me when I'm in the zone. That was my favourite 6B pencil!"

"Sorry." He lets out a chuckle. "Kristen just left to get groceries. I'm about to go for a surf if you wanna join me."

On any other day, I would have taken him up on his offer. If someone had told me a year ago that one day I'd be living in a small coastal town where I'd learn how to surf, I never would have believed them. Surfing has never been something I've aspired to do, but it didn't take Henley long to show me the ropes. I sucked at first, of course, but I like to think I'm getting the hang of it.

"Thanks for the invite but I've got lunch plans at Steve's Tavern with Harper." I slide another pencil out of the pencil box beside me and turn my attention back to my sketchbook.

"You're having lunch at your workplace?" he questions. "On your day off?"

"I know. It's weird," I agree, looking back up to the tree I'm detailing. "But the chicken parmigiana is the best in town."

I see Henley shrug in my peripheral. "That's fair. You know I perfected the sauce when I was working there?"

I tilt my gaze to his, my expression unbelieving. "No, you didn't."

"No," he says shortly, his lips curling into a straight line before he tips a finger in my direction and adds, "But it was my idea to add thyme to the schnitzel crumbs."

"Sure it was." I deadpan.

"I swear," he replies boldly, his eyes wide. He glances down at my pyjama pants and bare feet. "Anyway, shouldn't you be getting ready for lunch if you're meeting Harper?"

"Why? How late is it?" I ask, picking up my phone to check the time. "Oh, shit! It's eleven thirty already?"

That was the other thing about the river. It was a time-warp. I so often became immersed in its tranquillity, my sketchbook transporting me to a better place, and I'd lose myself to it all.

I hastily shut the sketchbook and slide the pencil box containing my graphite pencils into my pyjama pants pocket, before running back up the jetty and into the house, leaving Henley to make his own way back.

I shower quickly, then slip on a cropped tee and a pair of cargo pants. Swiping on a light CC cream and a hint of lip gloss, I allow my blonde waves to cascade down my shoulders. I always kept a hair tie around my wrist for when my hair's unruliness got to me, and I know it will be swept up into a messy bun before the day is done.

Henley has already left to go for his surf by the time I start making the short walk to the boulevard that runs the length of town.

When I step into the bustling tavern, a quick scan of the open plan bar and bistro lets me know that Harper is yet to arrive. This doesn't really surprise me, given the sleepless nights little Noah has been imposing on her lately.

I take a seat over by the window, looking up just in time to see Dylan arriving for his shift, once again with Jade in tow. He heads straight behind the bar, seemingly unaware of my presence, but Jade gives me a friendly wave before settling on her usual barstool.

I pick up the menu and peruse the lunchtime specials, despite already knowing what I'm going to order. I hear Harper coming before I see her. Or rather, I hear Noah.

I glance up to find her barrelling toward me, flustered as all hell, a screaming baby perched on her left hip. She tries her hardest to manoeuvre his pram through the sea of tables, her right shoulder weighted by the largest nappy bag I've ever seen. I stand up, ready to go to her aid, when Dylan swoops in to save the day.

Of course, he does. Because he's that quintessential nice guy.

"Harper, are you okay?" he asks, holding his arms out to baby Noah.

Harper practically throws her son at Dylan, ready to take all the help she can get. "I'm so sorry for the noise, Dylan. He's teething and it's a complete nightmare. I'm at my wits end."

"I have no idea what that means," Dylan admits. "But obviously no judgment here. It must be tough."

"Sorry I'm late, Mackenzie," she says breathlessly. "I'm running on pure adrenaline at this point."

"Are you kidding? Please don't apologise," I say, waving off her apology. "Seriously, though. Are you okay?"

The giant nappy bag falls to the floor with a thud as she flops down into the chair across from me. "I'm wrecked."

I nod in sympathy and it's then that I see her. Like, really see her. The dark circles that underline her eyes, the unkempt strands of auburn hair that haven't quite made it into her ponytail. Her expression is one of pure exhaustion and frustration. Motherhood must be a real bitch.

"You look…" I begin searching for a compliment. Her eyebrows lift in hopeful anticipation, but I decide to be honest instead. "Wrecked."

Harper squeezes her eyes shut, her face scrunching as if she's about to cry, but then suddenly her attention is shifted back to Noah. Her jaw drops, her eyes widening in awe. When I follow her line of sight, it's not hard to understand why.

Baby Noah is soundless as he bounces up and down in Dylan's arms, apparently fixated on the beaded bracelet he wears around his left wrist. He reaches for it, a cherubic smile forming as he stares up at him in wonder.

"Hey, little man," Dylan says gently as he removes the bracelet, rattling it in front of him. Noah's big, blue eyes track the beads as Dylan swings them from side to side. He's completely mesmerised.

"Oh my god," Harper practically sobs. "Miracles happen."

"Shhh," I hiss cautiously, warning Harper not to break the spell. "Don't speak too soon."

"You like these, little dude?" Dylan allows baby Noah to safely grip the beads in his chubby little fingers, which seems to work in settling him down completely.

We watch as he slowly places Noah in the pram, the beads still curled up in his tiny fist as he rests back against the quilted lining, completely content.

"What the hell are you? A fucking baby whisperer?" I ask.

"Mackenzie!" Harper whisper-yells. "Don't disturb the peace. Look. He's asleep!" She lays her palms over her heart in relief.

We all gaze down at baby Noah, snuggled up in his pram, silent and finally sleeping.

Dylan folds his arms smugly across his chest. "My work here is done," he says, turning on his heel toward the kitchen. He only takes a few steps before he turns back to us. "Obviously, don't let him choke on those. I don't need that on my conscience."

"Obviously," we both reply in unison.

When Dylan has returned to his position behind the bar, Harper turns to me, fanning her face with her hand. "Oh my god. Is it weird that that did something to me?"

"What?" I ask her. "Who? You mean Dylan?"

"Yes! Of course, I mean Dylan!" she whisper-shouts at me again as she leans across the table.

"God. Not you too." I groan, remembering the way Pamela had described Dylan in her loft that night and the way Kristen had shamelessly admitted that she thought he was hot too.

"Huh?" Harper throws a confused look my way.

"Nothing," I say with a shake of my head. That was not a conversation I wanted to get into right now. Or ever.

"Seriously though. He is so hot. I can't believe you get to work with him almost every day. You're so lucky."

"Who? Dylan?" I ask again just to annoy her. The deadpan stare she aims at me tells me I've succeeded. I let out a chuckle and then put on my best serious face and wave an open palm at her. "Please, he's lucky he gets to work with me ."

This earns me a laugh from her, before she snatches the menu from my hands, her gaze skimming back and forth from the lunch specials to Noah.

When I first arrived at the tavern I was starving, but I'm suddenly not thinking about food anymore. Much to my own apprehension, Harper's comments have me thinking about Dylan. And I don't want to be thinking about Dylan. Or any guy, for that matter.

But I get it. I get the appeal. What he did to calm that screaming child may have also made me melt just a little inside. And not because I want kids of my own. I mean, I'm having trouble most days just taking care of myself.

I can lie to Harper. And Pamela and Kristen. But I'm not

sure how much longer I can lie to myself.

Harper is right. What Dylan did just now with Noah was hot.

My boss is hot.

And for someone who is intent on keeping men at a safe distance, I sure am having a hard time trying not to think about the way his touch felt on my knee in the courtyard yesterday.

I might be in trouble here.

"Hello. Earth to Mackenzie." I hear Harper's voice, distant with a hint of impatience.

"What?" I ask, realising that as my thoughts had wandered to a place they should never go, I'd missed whatever Harper had said to me.

She follows my gaze to the bar where Dylan serves up a beer to a local tradie. She squints at me in suspicion, a smirk twitching the corners of her mouth. "How's work going?"

"It's fine," I reply with a nonchalant shrug, knowing I've been busted.

"I'll bet," she responds, one eyebrow arching upward.

I shake my head at her and toss a coaster in her direction. "Let's order. I'm starving."

"I'll bet," she says again brazenly, throwing a look over her shoulder at Dylan.

"Stop! You're seeing things that aren't there."

"If you say so," she resigns, stiffening as baby Noah stirs in his sleep. It's only when he settles back into position that she releases a long breath. "Oh, thank God. I need for this kid to give me just a little more than five minutes peace. I love him, you know. Like I honestly love him so much it hurts, but sometimes I wish I could have just one night off."

"You deserve a night off," I agree.

"Maybe I should take my mum up on her offer," she muses.

"What offer?" I ask.

"She's always saying that she would have Noah for the night if I wanted to get out of the house. I just never have because the thought of leaving him makes me feel so bad. Mum guilt is the absolute worst."

"Well, I think you should take her up on it. A night off might be just what you need to reset."

"Would you come with me?" she perks up at my suggestion.

"Sure," I say. "Why not? But where would we go?"

"We could go to a night club. Or we could just come here. I honestly don't care if we spend the night walking circles around this town if it means I don't have to hear a baby cry," she says with a laugh.

"Hey, guys." Harper and I look up just in time to see Jade swiftly drag a chair over from a nearby table and seat herself beside us. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing what you guys were talking about."

Harper and I look back and forth from each other and back to Jade.

"Which part?" I ask.

"The part about poor Harps here needing a break. I thought I could offer a suggestion."

"Oh," Harper replies happily, her posture straightening. "What is it?"

"Well, I'm not sure if it's your thing, but there is this amazing snorkel and scuba tour that leaves twice daily from the marina on the other side of town. I know it's not the same as some seedy nightclub but maybe a fun day in the sun could be just what you need."

Harper seems to mull this over in her mind and before too long she breaks out in a huge grin. "You know what? I think that would be amazing."

"You do?" I ask dubiously.

"Yeah!"

"The morning session is the best in my opinion," Jade adds. "The dolphins and turtles are always out to play."

"So, you've done this before?" I question Jade.

"Yeah," she replies, her shoulders jumping in a small shrug. "I've done it a few times."

"What do you say Mackenzie? Are you free tomorrow morning?" Harper's voice is laced with anticipation.

I'm not due to start my shift at the tavern tomorrow until three and I'll be working into the night but in all honesty, I'm not sure if snorkelling is really my thing. I could probably think of a million other things I'd rather be doing, but Harper's expectant expression lets me know that I'm probably not going to be let off the hook that easily.

I throw my hands up in the air. "What the hell. I guess I am."

"Great! I'm texting Mum right now to see if she's free," Harper says as she taps frantically at her phone.

"Cool." Jade stands up, flinging the chair back under the table next to ours. She holds up two fingers and adds, "Oh, it's called Two Tanked, by the way."

"Two Tanked?" I ask. My uncertainty is surely written all over my face, but Harper only smiles with glee.

"Yeah," Jade replies, looking to the bar where Dylan has just emerged from out the back. "The tour is Two Tanked. I'll catch you guys later."

"Yes!" Harper cheers as her phone chimes, signalling an incoming text. "Mum said she's free all day. This is going to be so epic."

I'm not sure what could possibly be so epic about diving from a boat named Two Tanked, but Harper's joy is adamant. And I know my friend needs this.

I wait while she types out another message and pulls up the details for the tour on her phone. She continues to scroll and tap for another moment as I throw a glance toward Jade who grins back at me from the bar. Is it me, or is it more of a conspiratorial smirk than your average friendly smile?

"I just booked us in for tomorrow," Harper says excitedly.

She slams her phone down on the table loud enough to wake Noah. He lets out a shrill scream that could wake the dead. I cringe as Harper groans, thrusting her head into her hands.

"Damn it," she curses. "Bring on tomorrow."