The Body

Havermouth, Five Years Before

Heath and Rhett watched Cameron’s Ute creep up the driveway.

“F-k,” Rhett sniggered. “They might be back next week if she drives to town at that pace.”

“She’s getting more confident,” Heath observed. “See, there she goes. She just had to adjust to the Ute. She’ll be fine. Did you know that she’s not eighteen?” He added, trying for offhand.

“No,” Rhett lit a cigarette, frowning. “She’s not a she-wolf – does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” Heath admitted. “I mean, it didn’t really matter with Cameron, did it? But maybe she’s so difficult because she’s…” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed it. “Give me a drag of that,” he stole the cigarette and took a puff, blowing it out before throwing it to the floor and crushing out the ember beneath his shoe.

“Hey,” Rhett protested. “That wasn’t done!”

“It’s done now,” Heath leered and caged his mate against the balcony railing by placing and arm to either side of his hips.

Rhett’s pupils dilated and he smirked.