The Peppercorn Project by Nicki Edwards

moved on, and Isabelle wondered if they expected hers should be moving on too. Instead, her healing had come in layers – each day, like today, bringing new challenges.
    ‘When I hit the six months mark I discovered it was much harder than I expected. I missed Dan more than ever. Missed our deep conversations. Missed talking about our dreams, our hopes, and our plans for the future. Now, because of circumstances beyond my control, I’m uprooting our lives and starting again. It’s daunting and I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing.’
    ‘You must have been young when you had Fletcher.’
    Relief washed over Isabelle at the change of subject. ‘I was eighteen. I fell pregnant after our final exams.’
    ‘How did that go down with your folks?’
    Isabelle grimaced. ‘Not well. But that’s another story.’
    ‘Hold that story.’ Something, or someone, had caught Leah’s attention.
    Isabelle turned in her seat to follow Leah’s gaze and a jolt of something went through her. Are you serious? Is he following me? She quickly turned back to her food, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring but it was too late, he was making a beeline for their table. What commotion was he going to cause this time? She sensed him the moment he stood beside their table. She went to take a sip of her drink and noticed her hand shaking.
    ‘G’day, Leah. Hello Isabelle. Kids.’
    Everyone looked up at him in silence, even Leah.
    ‘I think we should start over,’ he said softly, eyes only for Isabelle. ‘Mind if I join you?’ He pulled out an empty chair beside her without waiting for a response.
    Eyeing him warily, Isabelle nodded and swallowed. He sat, but she still felt dwarfed beside him. She had been too angry earlier to have a really good look at him, so she regarded him now, hoping her mouth wasn’t hanging open. He was undeniably a very attractive man. He’d changed out of his police uniform – maybe in an attempt to look less intimidating – and into a black T-shirt, which pulled taut over his broad chest and shoulder muscles. He obviously worked out. A lot. Out of uniform, he appeared nothing like a cop. If anything, he looked more suited to the rugby field. Isabelle tried not to stare, but it was impossible.
    When he faced her, Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat. Never – not once – in her entire relationship with Dan had she noticed another man, let alone gone breathless in the presence of one. Her body’s response shocked her. A flutter began low in her belly and she shifted in her seat, annoyed at the way her body was betraying her. Clearly her sex drive hadn’t died along with Dan, but she wasn’t prepared for this new feeling. She twisted the rings on her finger and reminded herself she was still furious with him.
    He extended his hand. ‘Let’s start again. I’m Matthew Robertson. Call me Matt.’
    The instant their hands met, her anger dissolved like ice in boiling water.
    ‘Isabelle Cassidy.’ She searched and found her voice, amazed it came out sounding so normal.
    ‘I know.’
    Matt smiled – a crooked smile, which showed off straight white teeth framed by a dark, neatly trimmed beard. Isabelle dragged her gaze away from his lips and looked into his eyes. Mietta was right. He really did have nice eyes.
    He turned to Fletcher. ‘G’day.’
    Fletcher smiled politely and returned the greeting with a faint ‘hi’.
    ‘And who’s this little princess?’
    Mietta giggled. ‘I’m Mietta. My daddy says I’m his little princess.’
    ‘I can see why your daddy would say that,’ he said softly.
    Mietta beamed. Traitor.
    He gave Isabelle his full attention. ‘I want to apologise for the way I handled things with Fletcher – barging in on the interview and everything. I’m sorry.’ He looked from Isabelle to Fletcher. ‘I’m sorry, buddy. I misjudged you.’
    Fletcher squirmed in his seat but remained quiet.
    ‘You did the right thing,’ Isabelle said. ‘Fletcher needed to learn