G'Day,

If you missed my last email, Built is finally here! See below for the link to read it today.

Over on my other pen name I've been celebrating the release of Married to my Grumpy Minotaur Boss and preparing for the special anniversary edition of my most popular novel, Deal with a Demon.

I'm also off to Gold Coast this weekend to spend time with my bestie and I can't wait! bring on the warmer climate. I am so tired of Canberra winter!

Anna xx

New Release

“What now?” Oliver rolls his eyes, fumbling for his phone on the centre console of the car. He’s driving, so I pick it up.

“Just pass it to me.” His tone is harsher than expected and I’m taken aback. “Sorry.”

Oliver sighs. “You know I hate being late.” Bringing the phone to his ear, he barks, “Yes!”

I feel bad for whoever is calling him. I wince when Oliver swerves around a red Toyota. We’re late for lunch with some important clients of my father’s. I wish he wouldn’t speed, though. Not when traffic in the middle of Sydney can come to a grinding halt without warning at any time of day.

“What do you mean they haven’t got the ones we chose? We ordered them months ago.”

I can’t hear the response, but I can see from Oliver’s reaction he’s not happy.

I should have gotten ready sooner, only I was procrastinating because I hate these things. I hate making small talk with strangers.

Oliver sighs again. “This whole renovation feels like such a headache. I’m tempted to cancel.” On the phone must be the builder who’s renovating our coast house.

“Oh, we can’t cancel. What about the wedding?” The house is an early wedding present from my parents. It used to be our family holiday house when I was a kid, but it’s been years since anyone used it.

Oliver turns to glare at me.“Hang on,” he says to the builder. Covering the phone receiver, he asks me, “Mia, why don’t we have the wedding in Sydney? There are so many great places we could have it, and then we could have a bigger guest list.”

I suppress a shudder. One of the main reasons I want the wedding in Rosella Bay is to keep the guest list down.

“My parents would be so disappointed, though. You know they were excited we wanted to do up the place.” It’s a lie. I don’t think they care one way or the other.

Oliver frowns, but my appeal seems to have worked. He lifts the phone back to his ear. “Fine. What do you propose we do about the tiles?”

He pauses.

“I can’t come all the way to Rosella Bay to go tile shopping,” he snaps. “I don’t have time for that.”

Gently, I put my arm on his leg until he glances over at me. “I could go.”

“What?”

“I could go down. Does he need someone to go choose the new tiles? I can do it.”

“Really?”

I nod. I’d love the excuse to get out of Sydney.

He smiles and my chest loosens.

“When do you need the new tiles?”

A pause.

“Tomorrow!?”

I squeeze his leg. “Drop me home. I’ll drive down this afternoon. I can be there by three. You could come down tomorrow night. We can have a little weekend getaway.” 

It could be just what we need. A weekend to reconnect. Things have been hectic lately. Particularly for Oliver. My dad wants to make him partner after the wedding. There have been a lot of late nights and early mornings. When he does get home, he’s always tired.

No wonder he’s so snappy.

“I can’t do that, Mia. I have a thing on Saturday night. I told you that.”

My smile drops. “Oh.” I can’t remember him mentioning it, but maybe I didn’t pay enough attention. “Sorry. Yeah. Well I can sort it out.” I keep my tone upbeat. Thankfully, that seems to mellow him.

“Are you sure you want to go now, though? Don’t you want to come to lunch?”

“I don’t mind.”

Oliver talks into his phone again. “Look, my fiance is coming down to sort out the tiles today. Does that work?”

A pause.

“Good. You can update me about the progress once you’ve started the ensuite. Thanks.” He hangs up and tosses his phone back into the centre console. He takes the next left and drops me at the train station; I’m home in twenty minutes. 

Our apartment in Killara still feels to me like we’ve only just moved in, but when I think back, we’ve been here for almost two years. I know Dad and Oliver both love the place. Somehow, I can’t help thinking something’s missing. Still, it makes Oliver happy, and that’s what I should want, too, right?

Things will feel better once Oliver and I are married. It’s just the stress of planning the wedding and getting the coast house done up in time for the reception. Once we’re married and we’re spending three weeks in the sunny south of France on our honeymoon, I’m sure I’ll feel like all my dreams have come true.

I throw a few things in a bag hastily. By twelve thirty, I’m on the road headed for Rosella Bay. Once I get onto the highway, I put on the cruise control and slip off my black pumps, kneading the arches of my feet with my toes. I should have changed before I left, but I was too keen to get out of Sydney. With a touch to the car’s dash screen, I select my upbeat workout playlist. A smile tugs on my lips when the first bars of Beyonce’s “Love On Top” play and instantly lifts my mood.

Soon, I’m singing along, dancing around in my seat as I turn off onto the M1. I pick up drive-through McDonald’s on the way, because fuck it. No one in Rosella Bay will judge me or tell me I’ll want to look my best on my wedding day.

By the time I arrive in town and turn into the little cul-de-sac where the coast house is, there’s a chill in the air. As I step out of the car, I shiver. My heels clack on the concrete driveway, making me feel out of place in this sleepy little town. I definitely look like a fish out of water in my tailored skirt and blouse.

Hurrying inside, I rummage around in the bag I packed, looking for a change of clothes. Unfortunately, I think I forgot my warm jumper. And I definitely don’t have my track pants. Damn.

I throw on my pyjamas and slippers and turn on the heater. I’m waiting for the kettle to boil to make a cup of tea, when I spot a big grey hoodie on the kitchen floor. It looks so cosy I immediately pick it up and press it to my face, inhaling the warm, masculine scent. I close my eyes for a moment and smile. Must be one of Oliver’s.

It smells amazing, actually. I wonder if he’s changed his deodorant or aftershave since last time we were here. Slipping the hoodie over my head, I sigh. This is what I needed. This is my happy place.

I jump at a knock on the door. Then I remember it will be Luke, the builder Oliver hired to do the renovation. I can’t believe I never thought of it until now, but what if this Luke—builder Luke—is the same Luke…

It’s completely ridiculous to even think it might be my Luke. The tall, gorgeous local surfer guy I crushed on so hard. Luke, my summer secret all those years ago at eighteen. That night when he kissed me and touched me like I was something special. Only, I never asked his last name. I never got his number. The next day, we left Rosella Bay.

But he’s not my Luke, is he? He can’t be my Luke, because next year I’m getting married and, up until recently, I thought I was marrying my dream guy. On paper, Oliver is my perfect match. He grew up in the same suburb of Sydney. He was my high school boyfriend. My parents love him. God, he and Mum have been talking baby names for months!

The doorbell rings again.

Hurrying over, I open it to find myself staring into hazel-flecked green eyes that send me right back to that summer ten years ago. Up at the handsome face of the guy I remember. Though he’s a little more rugged and with a little more facial hair.

But no question: he is my Luke.

The Luke I thought I’d never see again.

The guy who was my first.

I open my mouth and try to make words come out, but they won’t. My cheeks heat and I press cold fingertips to them to stop the blush. There’s no way he remembers me. I was just some summer fling to him.

“Ms Sinclair? Hi. Thanks for coming. Ah, I mean thanks for coming all the way from Sydney.” His eyes drop to my chest and I have a second where I wonder if he’s a completely different guy to the one I remember. The guy I remember wouldn’t be checking me out so blatantly. Then his face colours and his eyes snap back to mine. “Is that my jumper?”

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