She grasps my arm. “This is why we get along so well.”

“Anyway, she wants a salad without any ingredient that might actually give it some taste. So, I’d best get onto that.”

She just shakes her head, but I go to the fridge and take out all the ingredients, snapping on a pair of disposable gloves after I’ve placed them on the bench.

I grab a bowl, pick up some of the romaine lettuce and drop it in.

As I add the ingredients she does want, I’m cast back to an earlier time.

“Jessie doesn’t like me.”

Josh runs his fingers down my arms. “I don’t care what Jessie thinks. You’re the one I want, Dee.”

My breathing grows ragged just at the heated look in his eyes. I’ve done the thing I vowed not to do on this trip. Fall in love.

“I’m so crazy about my Australian barista.”

I laugh. “I’m surprised you are. I’ve been told I never stop talking.”

“Maybe I like to listen.”

I splay my hand on his stomach as he leans over. When he kisses me, Jessie’s irritation is forgotten. She’s just not important.

Time disappears, and our hearts are in sync.

He growls when I palm his cock through his jeans. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“I changed my mind. My prerogative.”

I’m not sure if it’s fair on either of us, but I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.

“Delaney.”

I look up to see Pania staring at me. For a moment, I’m a bit lost, and then I look down into the bowl and laugh.

“Whoops. Got a bit distracted. Her salad’s tossed.”

“Give it to one of the others to take out.”

I shake my head. “Oh, no. This one’s mine.”

Tipping the salad into a serving bowl, I strip off my gloves and pick up a set of cutlery. It takes everything to muster a smile, but I do it because I’m not about to show any weakness in front of this woman.

I walk to her table, place the bowl in front of her, and lay the knife and fork, wrapped up in a napkin beside the bowl.

She looks closely at the salad. “Is that it?”

“I removed all the things you didn’t want. That’s what’s left.” I smile sweetly. “How about a drink to go with that?”

Pania’s going to have to keep me away from the rat poison.

“A Coke would be nice.”

“Is that Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, or Coke No Sugar?”

She glares at me. “Just a Coke.”

“Righto.”

Turning on my heel, I take a Coke from the fridge, drop some ice into a tall glass and pour the drink.