Page 38 of Outback Hearts

Jill sat forward, her expression turning serious. ‘Look, I like Jake. I really do. He’s professional, he’s talented, and he clearly respects you. But here’s the thing—we don’t actually know him, do we? We’ve worked with him for three weeks on a building site. That’s not the same as knowing someone’s character.’

‘What are you saying?’ Amelia asked, defensive now.

‘I’m saying,’ Jill continued carefully, ‘that he’s a good-looking bloke who’s been working closely with a beautiful young woman who clearly admires him. And I want to make sure—we want to make sure—that his intentions are genuine. That he’s not just—’

‘After a bit of skirt?’ Sophie finished bluntly.

Amelia recoiled. ‘Jake’s not like that.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Jill said. ‘Neither do we. That’s the problem. He could be wonderful. He probably is wonderful. But he could also be a builder who has a different girl on every project, collects hearts like souvenirs, and moves on when the work ends.’

‘You really think that?’ Amelia asked, hurt evident in her voice.

‘I think we don’t know,’ Sophie said. ‘And you’re our friend—our sister, basically. So, we worry. It’s our job to worry.’

Jill nodded. ‘You’re clever and capable and wonderful, but you’re also inexperienced with this sort of thing. You admitted it yourself. And Jake has this intense way of looking at you, this way of making you feel special—’

‘Because I am special to him,’ Amelia interrupted.

‘Maybe,’ Jill said. ‘Or maybe that’s how he operates. Intense focus, complete attention, making you feel like the centre of the universe whilst he’s with you. It’s intoxicating. But what happens when the project ends? When he moves on to the next job in the next town?’

Amelia was quiet, the question hanging heavy.

‘We’re not trying to upset you,’ Sophie said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. ‘We just love you. And we want to make sure you’re not going to get hurt. That you’re going into this with eyes open, not so dazzled by a handsome builder that you miss potential warning signs.’

‘What kind of warning signs?’ Amelia asked.

‘Does he talk about past relationships?’ Jill asked. ‘About why they ended? Does he ask about your plans beyond this project? About what happens when the Royal’s finished?’

‘We’ve been focused on the work—’

‘Exactly,’ Jill said. ‘It’s all very present. Very focused on the now. But what about in the future? Has he mentioned wanting to see you after this? Or is it all implied romance without actual commitment?’

Amelia thought about their conversations—the stolen moments on the scaffold, the careful professional distance, the promise of “when the project’s done, we’ll see”. It had seemed romantic at the time. But was Jill right? Was it deliberately vague?

‘You think I’m being naive,’ Amelia said flatly.

‘I think you’re being optimistic,’ Jill corrected gently. ‘Which is one of the things we love about you. But we’re the cynical ones, remember? Sophie and I have been burned enough times to recognise patterns. And this pattern—intense worksite romance, careful professional boundaries, vague promises about “later”—it’s a pattern.’

‘So, what do I do?’ Amelia asked, suddenly uncertain.

‘You enjoy it,’ Sophie said immediately. ‘You’re clearly mad about each other—now—and that’s wonderful. Just—keep your eyes open. Watch how he treats other women. See if his actions match his words. Notice whether he’s as interested in your life and plans as you are in his.’

‘And we’ll watch too,’ Jill added. ‘Not hovering, not interfering. Just—keeping an eye out. Making sure you’re safe. Making sure he’s genuine.’

‘You’re going to spy on him?’ Amelia asked, somewhere between amused and annoyed.

‘We’re going to be observant,’ Sophie corrected primly. ‘There’s a difference. At this “meet and mingle” thing, for instance. We’ll watch how he behaves. Does he stay by your side? Or does he chat up other women whilst you’re not looking? Does he introduce you to people as someone important? Or keep you separate, compartmentalised?’

‘That’s—’ Amelia paused. ‘Actually, that’s quite smart.’

‘We’re not just pretty faces,’ Jill said, grinning. ‘Though speaking of faces, now we really need to sort out what we’re wearing on Saturday. I refuse to show up looking like I just came from work.’

The tension broke. Sophie returned to rifling through clothes, making exaggerated sounds of horror at some of Jill’s practical wardrobe,

But later, after they’d sorted outfits, Amelia lay awake thinking about what her friends had said.

They weren’t wrong to be concerned. She didn’t have much experience with relationships. Dylan had been a silly fantasy about someone she’d never properly met. The few boyfriends before that had been—what? Casual, forgettable, nothing that made her feel the way Jake did.