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at the barracks.’
    Stevo stared at him for several seconds, eyes narrowed, then nodded and turned on his heel.
    Tate waited until he was sure his mate was gone then pulled Layla’s email up again. She was definitely a talker. There were lots of words, but what was she actually saying? Her pain at losing her father was clear, but the rest? He wasn’t sure if she’d enjoyed her Christmas or hated it. One thing was certain, her family’s celebration hadn’t gone to plan. Why else would she be emailing him?
    He re-read the bit about him being away from his family and tried hard not to laugh. He wasn’t away from his family. He was with them. The army was more of a family to him than any of his own flesh and blood had ever been. Deployment overseas meant he didn’t have to sit through another meaningless celebration at home. Not that there really was a home. More a series of shacked up living arrangements that kept his mum in cheap booze.
    Her idea of a Christmas feast was alcohol and plenty of it. Of course there was tinned ham and tinned potato salad for the non-drinkers. Sometimes they’d even had tinned fruit for dessert. His first real Christmas lunch, with Christmas crackers and traditional pudding, had been during his initial deployment.
    These guys, even smart-arsed Stevo, had his back. They were his family. He didn’t want to think about the world outside of right here, right now. This country was so broken, it was hard to get his head around. All around him, violence and poverty reigned. Yet he was more at home here than he was back in the suburbs.
    Layla’s suburbs.
    The three-minute warning buzzed and Tate jumped. He skimmed through the email one more time, but his two-fingered typing skills meant there wasn’t enough time left on his internet allocation to write something back. He swallowed down on the lump in his throat then closed first the email, then the program. Layla probably had enough to deal with back home. With everything going on in her family she didn’t need email conversation with a broken down soldier as well.

Chapter Three
    ‘I’m a fraud.’ Layla paused dramatically and shovelled another forkful of Carise’s blissful chocolate cheesecake into her mouth. ‘And a liar.’
    Carise’s grin was infectious. ‘Why?’
    ‘Yesterday, the migraine.’ Layla sighed.
    ‘Right.’ Carise’s hand stopped, the generous helping of cheesecake on her spoon halfway to her mouth. ‘Did you feel sick when you realised Ian was there?’
    ‘Well…yes.’
    ‘And did lying in the quiet room, minus Ian, make you feel less sick?’
    ‘Yes again.’
    Carise chuckled. ‘Doesn’t sound like fraud or lying to me. Sounds like self-preservation.’
    ‘If you must know, my immediate thought was to push him over the ridge. Hiding in the spare room seemed like a much safer option.’ Layla scraped the last morsels of chocolate off her plate. ‘I really need to say something.’
    ‘You really do.’
    ‘I’m thinking of getting a lawyer.’
    Carise raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
    ‘It’s not simple. I’m his boss. One wrong move on my part and he’ll sue the pants off me for workplace harassment or something. I’d end up losing Bonsai Christmas.’
    ‘How can it be workplace harassment when he’s the one harassing you?’
    ‘How do I prove it though? At work he’s the model employee. I couldn’t have asked for better, especially with Dad gone. Outside of work he’s not unpleasant, or threatening or anything. He just turns up everywhere I go and stares at me with big brown puppy dog eyes.’
    ‘I think he thinks he’s in love.’
    Layla wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes. I think so.’
    Carise picked up the crystal-handled, silver cake slice she’d received as a Christmas present. ‘More cheesecake?’
    ‘More cheesecake.’ Layla slid her plate over to Carise. ‘Did I tell you I had an email from the guy who received my army care package?’
    Carise sat straighter. ‘No. Where did it end