“Right,” Peyton said with a nod. “How about you get them to start unpacking everything you need and I’ll show you where we’re building it all.”

“Sure thing, Miss Spencer,” he said, tucking the clipboard under his arm.

“It’s Peyton,” she corrected.

“And I’m Nigel. I’ll get the utes unloaded,” he said and walked towards the front door.

Peyton felt relieved. She finally had things under control. Over the past few days, she’d worked on a new business plan that meant incorporating more of the community into the hotel. But that part of the plan would take some time.

“See? You handled that perfectly,” Jenny said from behind her.

Peyton turned around and smiled. “I guess so.”

Jenny stepped forward and looped her arm through Peyton’s. “Let’s go see if we can’t find you a tradie husband.”

Peyton let out a laugh and shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Because Callum’s back in town?”

Peyton tensed next to Jenny. “He’ll be gone soon,” she said.

“And you don’t want him to go?”

“I didn’t want him to leave the first time. But that doesn’t matter. Callum is nothing to me. Shall we go out to the cabins? I’d love to show you my plans for some of them.”

“First, the tradies,” Jenny said, excitement in her voice clear.

“You’re old enough to be their mother!”

Jenny laughed. “And I’m married, too. But we can always look. There’s no harm in looking.”

Looking is the first part to wanting and touching. Looking is the start of the harm.

“Do you want to go to the party tonight?”

Peyton peered up from her Russian revolutions textbook and raised her brow at Graham. He pursed his lips and returned to his methods homework. He didn’t ask for an explanation. Ever since Callum had left, the people in town had started to treat her differently and Peyton hated it. She didn’t want their pity. Besides Graham, Jay Preston had begun to speak to her. He had always been nice to her, but with Callum gone, Jay had given her more of his time. At first, she’d been flattered, but then she’d come to appreciate him.

“Would you like to go, Graham?” she asked, placing the book down on the patio table. It was what they did every day since their moment on the bench—homework at either of their houses.

“I don’t want to force you. We can skip the party. We can either hang out at the farm or here?”

His dimple greeted her, and Peyton refrained from rolling her eyes at the grin he directed her way.

“We can go to the party.”

“What, my farm isn’t nice enough for you?” he sassed.

“I would much rather be at your farm than the back of the boathouse. But I have a feeling you need to be at the party. I’m thinking Krista?” Peyton raised a brow as she stood up from the chair.

Graham’s cheeks turned bright red. “Whatever,” he muttered, embarrassed.

Peyton let out a laugh. “I knew it!”

“You know nothing,” he bit back.

Peyton shook her head and pointed at herself. “I know everything.”

Graham rolled his eyes and returned to his homework.

“I’ll get us drinks before you go home and change,” Peyton said before she walked into the house.

Upon entering the kitchen, she noticed her dad sitting at the dining table. He was wearing a frown as he stared at her. Her father hadn’t been the same since Callum left Daylesford. He seemed guarded, like he was keeping a secret from her. But Peyton knew otherwise. She knew her father was waiting for the breaking point. The moment that she exploded and became reckless.

“I didn’t know you were home, Dad,” Peyton said as she made her way to the fridge.

Her father didn’t reply as she opened the door and took out two cans of Fanta. Once she held them firmly in her hands, Peyton closed the fridge and stared at him.

He pressed his lips tightly before he said, “You and Graham are getting close.”

She froze.

He stood up from the chair and glared at her with a concerned look. “He’s a nice boy, Peyton. But what if Callum comes back? You going to hurt that boy for Callum?”

Peyton shook her head. She was her daddy’s little girl. But she was tired of being babied. She didn’t need anyone’s pity or concern. The way her father’s eyes flashed in pain wasn’t something Peyton liked to see.

“He’s not coming back, Dad. No one comes back after they leave this place,” Peyton said, staring at the cold cans in her hand.

“That’s not true, Peyton. Your mother and I always come back.” He gave her a sad smile. “You never know. One day, he might come back.”

“You and Mum come back because the hotel is here.”

“We come back because you are here, Peyton. You come first. If you’d like, you can come with us to the city? We’re leaving tonight.”

She wasn’t sure how to tell her father that she was scared to leave town, afraid that she might see him, so she shook her head. “Thanks, Dad. But I promised Graham that I’d go to the boathouse party with him.”

He gave her a nod. “Maybe the next business trip, you’ll come.”

She shrugged before she said, “Maybe,” and exited the kitchen.

The first lie her father had ever told her was when he’d said that he and her mother would always come back. That weekend, her parents had died in a hit and run. The night of the party was the last time she ever saw her parents alive again. If she had gone with them, she most likely would have died, too. Some days, Peyton wished she had. To stop the pain. To never experience the loss of the two people who had brought her into the world. And to never see Callum Reid again.

In theory, dying sounded easy. But the thought of never seeing him was shattering. She could say it a million times and never mean it. Callum meant a lot more to Peyton than she wanted to admit. She wanted every laugh, every touch, every belief of them to be tarnished in pain and deceit. But they stayed pure.

Peyton stopped her steps as she reached her street. She looked to her right and stared at the double-story house across from hers. Biting down on her lip, Peyton weighed her options. The truth was that she missed him. Missed the way he held her in his sleep. Missed the little smiles that went unguarded. Missed the moments when she could tell herself that she was his. The moments she believed could be enough for them. But they weren’t. They never would be.

Her feet made the decision for her as she crossed the road and made her way up the path. She stepped on his mat and studied the door. She concentrated on finding a normal rhythm of her heart. She was anxious and hopeful. She was also regretful and broken. The only reason she was at his door was to see him. To prove that he was worth losing Graham and Jay for.

Along with the sun setting, a cold gust of wind blew, causing Peyton to shiver. She’d spent most of the day watching the construction of the structure for the Reynolds’ wedding. Besides that, she’d hid in her office, not wanting to return home. Her thoughts had been on Callum. They shouldn’t have been, but they were. It had been days since she’d last seen him. She should have been worrying over her friendship with Graham, but she had to give him space.

Forming a fist, Peyton raised it up at the door and gently rested her knuckles against the wood. She took a deep breath and let her head fall forward.

What am I doing? I’m just making it worse for myself.

With a sigh, she pulled back from the door and stood straight. She hadn’t imagined them apart until it had happened. This time, she couldn’t imagine them together. She wanted more. She would always want more from him. She wanted to be given what she was being denied—a future with the one person she loved, no matter how much he tore and destroyed her soul.