Be My Baby (With Love, From Kurrajong Crossing Book 8)

Be My Baby A With Love, From Kurrajong Crossing Romance Dakota Harrison Be My Baby Copyright© 2023 Dakota Harrison EPUB Edition The Tule Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED First Publication by Tule Publishing 2023 Cover design by Lee Hyat Designs No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ISBN: 978-1-959988-14-4 Keep Up with your Favorite Authors and their New Releases For the latest news from Tule Publishing authors, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com Stay social! For new release updates, behind-the-scenes sneak peeks, and reader giveaways: Like us on Follow us on Follow us on See you online! Dedication To all the dreamers out there. You are the soul of this world, the very heart. The reason we get up each morning to craft our stories and worlds. Never stop dreaming. Table of Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Page Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue Acknowledgments The With Love, From Kurrajong Crossing series About the Author Chapter One At the sharp clack of a heel on his parquet floor, Max glanced up from wiping down the thick wooden bar that ran across the back wall of his pub, the Spotted Cow. Kurrajong Crossing was quiet this time of day, the lunch rush having long gone, and the evening crowd not yet descended. The sharp, pungent scent of lemon rose from the wax he polished the bar down with daily as the soft cloth swiped over the gleaming wood. Glittering speckles floated on the warm, late afternoon air in the shafts of autumn light that streamed through the vintage, colonial-style windows that lined the front dining booths. A warm smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. “Heya, Millie.” Millie Stevens walked toward him on the stilettos that seemed a permanent feature on her feet and perched on the bar stool she’d claimed as hers the minute he’d opened the Cow, over ten years ago. Her mid-thigh length skirt rode up to show a stretch of shapely thigh as she crossed one leg over a knee. She leaned her elbow on the bar and propped her chin on her fist. “Max.” Often acknowledged as the Crossing’s resident mean-girl, Max couldn’t help but reject that generalisation. He’d always liked her, had always gotten on well with her. Sure, she had a sharp tongue sometimes, but he knew her well enough to realise much of that was a form of self-protection more than true nastiness. It was just unfortunate that most others didn’t seem to recognise it. His smile turned into a grin. “The usual?” She shrugged one elegantly clad shoulder. “Maybe just an orange juice?” A waft of something summery and light enveloped him, hinting of citrus and the sea. He breathed deep. Nice. Max glanced at the huge clock on the opposite wall. She was earlier than usual for a Friday night. She often didn’t get there until after seven. It was barely twenty past five. “All alone today?” He scooped up some ice and grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge under the bar. He hated that post-mix crap and refused to sell it to his customers, only using locally produced, fresh juice from the juicing factory over on the highway. He sat the glass in front of her on the freshly laundered bar mat. She nodded and twisted the glass around on the mat, condensation starting to cloud the sides of it. Max took the credit card she held up and turned to tap it on the EFTPOS machine. Sometimes Millie was as chatty as his sister Darby, other days words barely made it past her lips. Looked like today was one of the latter days. Millie had a small group of friends who had all gone to school together, although he knew she still missed Lucy something shocking. So did he. Millie and Luce had been inseparable, until a brain tumour had stolen her from them far too soon. “You’re forty soon, right?” Her voice turned him around again. He let out a soft chuckle. “Are you trying to make me feel old, or what?” A cheeky smile unwound on her mouth. Her green eyes sparkled in the spotlights above the bar. “You’d like to think so, but no. You know I turn thirty-seven next week?” Max poured himself a cola and leaned against the bar. No one else was in the Cow yet. Most people didn’t turn up until after six on a Friday. His brothers Gabe and Simon would turn up anywhere from five-thirty to six PM. He pointed at her and smirked. “Indeed, I do. What would you like for your present this year?” Another hint of that scent hit him, distracting his train of thought. “Is that a new perfume? It’s really nice.” She raised a well-sculpted eyebrow. “It is. I got it yesterday in Bialga. I’m surprised you noticed.” I notice everything about you. Max didn’t say anything, just shrugged. He should just ask her out and be done with it. His feelings for Millie had morphed and grown in the last six months, to the point that he couldn’t ignore it, but he held his tongue, Lucy’s final words echoing in his head, as they always did any time he let down his guard and even considered taking that step and asking Millie on a date. “I want you to be happy, Maximus. Someday, when you can face it. But please …