BREAKING POINT

It was nice how he could feel enthusiastic about a garden. Penny thought.

“Carrots,” he added, with a satisfied nod. “And silverbeet. That was always here. Huge bunches of it.”Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Maybe there’s still some hiding.”

“I doubt anything’s lasted under this carpet of weeds.” he replied.

But Jeremy struck gold in the very last cor-ner of the overgrown patch when their efforts had brought them close enough to be working together.

“Don’t pull that one out,” Penny exclaimed.

“That’s rhubarb…”

Dropping her fork in her excitement, she stumbled over the rough earth to pull the veil of sticky biddi bid weeds from the huge, dark green leaves beneath. Joey reached in to help her but it didn’t stop her singlet from getting covered with the tiny green seed balls.

Joey even got some in his hair, which already looked the most dishevelled Penny had ever seen it look. With those tawny streaks to the shagginess, it reminded her of a lion’s mane.

And she loved it… Just as well there was something else to focus on.

“Oh, wow…” She stood back to admire the plants they had uncovered. “This is fabulous. It’s going to make it look like something is really growing and hasn’t just been planted for show.”

Joey bent down to snap off one of the long, red stalks. He bit into it but then screwed up his face as if he’d just sucked on a lemon.

“I don’t remember this being so sour. Don’t try the leaves,” he said.

“And the stalks really need cooking,” she added.”In a crumble, maybe. I used to eat it in the garden, though. When I was little. I would sneak out a little bowl of sugar and dip the stalks into it with each bite.”

There were so many memories that snuck up on her but seeing Joey’s expression had given this one a peculiar poignancy. Raw rhubarb was sour and she and Howard when they were little had made faces just like that if they hadn’t got enough sugar to stick to the stalks. Then they’d giggled and tasted it again just because it was fun.

Shifting her gaze, as if that would some-how shift her focus away from the memories, Penny noticed all the green balls sticking to the singlet that had been white not so long ago.

She’d need to get changed before she went to the garden centre and she would also need to pick off all the sticky balls before she put this garment in to the wash. She remembered this weed from childhood, too. You had to pull every one of those balls off individually, which was exactly what she started to do.

And then she realised that Joey had gone quiet and she looked up to see that he was watching her hands. Penny had started on the nearest part of the fabric, which was the scooped neckline. Had she even realised that she was calling attention to a cleavage that was rather more impressive than it had ever been before she’d become a mother?

She could feel the warmth of a blush gaining energy. She needed to say something off-hand-maybe about how annoying biddi bids were-and then turn back to her own task of forking through the clumps of soil that Joey had turned over with the spade.

Except, she couldn’t move. She could feel something changing in the air around her, as if the oxygen were being sucked out by some invisible force. Joey was standing there, half naked. There were streaks on his tanned skin where the sweat had turned dirt into mud.

And there were tiny green balls caught on the sprinkling of hair on his chest. A triangle of tawny, sparse hair that trailed into an arrow at the level of the waistband of his shorts.

Penny tried to catch her breath. She tried to make her legs work and take her away from this overwhelming temptation to touch Joey.

Neither of those things happened. What did happen was that she reached out to gently pull a little green ball from where it was caught, just to one side of a nipple that tightened at the first whisper of touch from her fingers.

And just as instantly, Joey’s hand whipped up to catch hold of hers and prevent it mov-ing any further.

He was going to reject her, wasn’t he?

Gently, of course. It would only take a look to remind her that this wasn’t going to hap-pen. That they were only friends. That was what she’d decided  right? Gritting her teeth, Penny lifted her gaze to accept that look, fully prepared to give him one of apology on her part.

But what she saw was something very dif-ferent.

Desire, pure and simple.

A blazing desire but one that only came a little closer to what was coursing through her own veins.

For a long, long moment, they stared at each other in what felt like total amazement.

And then they moved. Penny had no idea who moved first. It seemed to happen with the speed of light. One moment they were standing there staring and the next, Joey’s mouth was on hers.

There was nothing sweet about this kiss.

It had nothing to do with gratitude or friendship. This was out-of-control need.

Pure passion.

A dance of lips and tongues and hands that slid across sweat-slicked skin. It was every-thing that Penny had dreamed of except that it wasn’t nearly enough… And somehow, eventually, they both sank onto the rough earth of the garden beneath their feet. Kneeling together. Penny had her thumbs hooked into the elastic waistband of Joey’s shorts and he had his hands beneath her singlet top. Her bra was already undone and she cried out in ecstasy as she felt his hands cup her breasts.

She could hear an echo of her cry. And then another… Only it wasn’t her making that sound. It had a tinny quality that had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with a small baby waking up from his nap.

Penny had to close her eyes against the crushing disappointment as she felt the moment slipping away, along with Joey’s hands.

It was actually embarrassing to have to ease her hands away from Joey’s shorts.

Their gazes snagged and held again for an-other long moment, but the silent communication this time was nothing like the last.

Maybe they both felt a bit horrified as the

realisation of how out of control they’d been kicked in.

“I…um…I’ll have to go in,” Penny managed.

She stayed on her knees for a moment longer, reaching awkwardly behind herself to find the clasp of her bra.