‘I should get on with my work, otherwise I’m still going to be here at dinnertime.’
Nate handed me the tea he’d made. ‘I don’t think Bryan would complain about having some different company. I’m pretty sure I’ve exhausted everything we have in common.’
‘But he is a great listener.’
‘He is that.’
We both looked towards the dog. Still snoring.
‘Better when he’s awake, though, as a general rule.’
‘Yep.’
‘Thanks for this,’ I said, gulping the hot liquid down and tidying the kitchen a bit as I did, killing two birds with one stone.
‘You don’t need to scald your throat. No rush. But I’ll get out of your way.’
‘Thank you for lunch. It was lovely.’
‘That was all down to you.’
‘The company wasn’t, and nor was the offer. So, thank you. Just accept the damn gratitude, will you?’ I laughed.
He gave the briefest head tilt of acceptance. ‘OK. Thank you. It was lovely. And novel. I can’t remember the last time I had lunch without my eyes being focused on a document or screen.’
‘Really? And you still manage not to drop anything on your tie. I’m impressed. I can’t always manage that even when I’m concentrating. Much to my mother’s eternal shame.’
‘I can’t imagine anyone ever being ashamed of you.’
How little he knew…
‘That’s sweet of you, thanks. But you really should take time out to eat lunch properly.’
‘Actually, eating lunch at all is a bit of a novelty unless it’s a business one. The one at Ned’s the other day was my first experience of sitting down to lunch as an exercise in itself, for no other reason than to actually eat lunch, in as long as I can remember. And that was only after being castigated by you that I wasn’t taking advantage of my surroundings.’
‘It was?’
‘Yes. Why do you think I looked so much like a fish out of water?’
‘You didn’t.’
‘I kind of asked you to join me then, except obviously I knew it was impossible as you were on duty. I felt so odd.’
‘You looked fine. Nobody thinks anything of people eating on their own. Especially these days. Everyone is so wrapped up in themselves or have their faces stuck to their phones. It’s habit. Getting comfortable in your own company? It’s a good thing to work on.’
‘You’re saying I’m likely to be that way for some time so get used to it?’
‘No!’ I replied, my mouth in a horrified ‘O’ shape. ‘That’s not what I meant at all!’
And then I saw the merest twinkle in his eye.
‘You’re teasing me.’
‘Only partly.’
‘Hmm. Well, I’ll let you off. One time deal though.’
‘I’ll remember that. Thanks.’
‘Right. I’m going to finish off upstairs.’
‘I’d better go and do some writing before the pooch wakes up and wants another walk.’
We looked down.
‘No danger of that any time soon,’ I grinned. ‘You could always follow his lead. No pun intended.’
Nate’s brows knitted together.
‘Take a nap.’
‘Now? It’s the afternoon.’
‘I know. That’s generally why they’re called afternoon naps. I was reading an article just the other day – very good for helping lower blood pressure according to the latest research.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes. And it wouldn’t surprise me to learn yours was high.’
Nate didn’t reply which, in my head, only confirmed my diagnosis.
‘Anyway. Think about it. I can always nip back and do the vacuuming tomorrow.’
‘It’s fine. I’m going to go and write. Or at least try to.’
‘OK. Good luck.’
‘Thanks. I’m likely to need it.’
I headed back upstairs and began tackling the bathroom, then pulled the vacuum out of the cupboard. After Holly had tripped carrying the cleaner upstairs one time, Gabe had insisted on having a machine for upstairs and one for downstairs, and a mini one for the stairs themselves. Holly had objected but not for long. She knew that Gabe’s stints in A&E had brought him into contact with plenty of accident victims, including those who’d been performing apparently simple tasks. But even simple tasks could go wrong and change a person’s life forever. Or even worse. Holly stood her ground when she wanted to, but there were certain things she knew weren’t the battles to pick. This arrangement made her fiancé happier and more relaxed and that was a good enough reason for her.
Having cleaned everywhere apart from the area Nate was now working in, tucked at one end of the table, I did my best to work round him. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard and the screen moved gradually as more and more words filled the page in front of him. It seemed the block he’d mentioned earlier had passed. Either that or he’d just been procrastinating before. Occasionally he’d stop, one hand moving to stroke Bryan who had now migrated from the dog bed to his temporary master’s lap. I vacuumed through and packed everything away, rinsed the soup maker out and put it back in the cupboard.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Nate. I just thought I’d tell you I was off.’
‘You’re done?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’
‘Is there something wrong?’
‘No… it’s just… nothing.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s what?’
‘Nice.’
‘Having someone clean round you?’
‘No. Just having someone around.’ Immediately a shy, embarrassed smile ghosted on his face. ‘That sounds so sad and dopey. Forget I said that.’
‘No, it doesn’t. And actually, I know exactly what you mean.’
He nodded.
‘How’s the book?’
‘Good, actually. Surprisingly. You’re obviously a lucky charm.’
‘Maybe it’s more to do with you allowing yourself to take a break from things from time to time. You have to give your body and mind time to recharge.’
His gaze stayed focused on me for a moment, before swinging round to the view beyond the window.
‘Maybe,’ he said.
‘Is there anything more I can do before I leave?’
He looked back at me, gave that ghost of a smile again and shook his head. ‘No. Thanks. You’ve done more than enough.’
‘OK. Well, have a good evening. Don’t work too late.’ I turned to go.
‘Wait.’
I turned as I heard the sound of the chair move, immediately followed by the excited revving up of Bryan’s little paws, unwilling to miss out on any possible excitement, trying to get a purchase on the wooden floor. He got his front paws to the corner of a thick rug and propelled himself towards Nate.
‘What’s wrong?’ I hesitated, one hand on the door handle.
‘Nothing,’ Nate said, grabbing his coat off the hook at the same time as shoving his feet into his boots. ‘I’ll walk you home.’
Bryan picked up on the magic W word in the sentence and began racing round even faster.
‘You don’t need to do that.’
‘I know,’ Nate replied, before looking down and meeting my glance square on. ‘But I’d like to.’
10
Did he really have to add ‘interesting and friendly’ to those gorgeous looks? Could he not have stayed the arrogant, rude man I’d initially thought he was? Honestly, him turning in to what was on the verge of ‘a really nice guy’ was pretty inconvenient, especially when teamed with those striking blue eyes that now looked out at me from under the beanie he’d pulled down low. See? Even a beanie, the one item of head gear guaranteed to reduce most people to looking like they’d raided their gran’s tea cosy stash to keep their head warm, looked good on him.
‘Sophia?’
I snapped to. ‘Huh?’
‘You OK?’
‘Yes. Absolut
ely.’
He frowned and pulled at the hat a bit. ‘I know it looks kind of ridiculous.’
I suddenly realised I’d been staring at him and, it would seem, he’d completely misinterpreted the reason. That in itself, was kind of adorable. And judging by the uncomfortable look on his face, this was no false modesty. I felt my heart squeeze and tried to ignore it, along with all the other feelings Nate McKinley was awakening. Automatically I reached up and caught his hands, gently pulling them away from his head.
‘It looks fine.’
So much more than fine…
Nate didn’t say anything, but his gaze drifted down to where I was still holding his hands. I dropped them suddenly – and inelegantly.
‘Sorry.’
He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
‘I just meant… you need to have more confidence in yourself.’
His blue eyes focused momentarily on mine before looking away.
‘No one looks good in a beanie. But I’m afraid comfort is winning over style.’
‘See, that’s the thing. Ordinarily I’d agree with you. That’s kind of why I was staring.’
Mostly.
‘Because you seem to be the exception to the rule.’
His expression was one of embarrassed disbelief as I settled my bobble hat over my own ears.
‘Come on Bry, mate,’ Nate said, turning away and quickly ensconcing the little dog in his new coat and clipping the lead to his collar.
‘Ready?’
He nodded and I opened the door, a sharp chill rushing into the house as I did so.
‘Bloody hell,’ Nate frowned as we stepped out. I waited, fussing with Bryan for a moment as Nate locked the door behind us.
‘Wishing you were back home?’
He turned back, his gaze settling on my face. For a moment he said nothing, then he glanced down at the dog who was dancing around, snapping at the cold air rushing up off the sea before looking back up.
‘Nope,’ he said, then made a gesture, indicating I should lead the way along the path that led up away from the beach and through the village.
We walked in silence for a little while, but it was companionable, rather than awkward. The sound of the sea washing the beach filled the air as twilight settled around us. We walked past a house with a beautifully tended garden, artfully lit, and I told Nate about the lovely older couple that lived there, and how they had created the garden from scratch over the many years they’d lived here.
‘It must be nice to have something like that,’ he said, throwing another glance back at it as we walked on.
‘A garden?’
‘Yeah. Well, one like that. Something that’s grown with you. Changed.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I know what I mean, but I… it’s sounding stupid.’
‘No,’ I reached out, resting my gloved hand on his arm momentarily. ‘It isn’t. I know exactly what you mean. There’s a story in that garden. The plants that have been there from the start, like anchors to the place. The ones they bought on a special trip or were gifts from others. It’s got a history.’
He looked at me for a moment. ‘Yeah. That’s it. That’s it, exactly.’
‘Why are you looking at me so suspiciously?’ I asked, laughing.
He paused, gave a brief hint at a smile and didn’t answer.
We walked on a bit longer until Nate stopped at a lamppost, which Bryan duly watered.
‘What’s this?’ Nate asked, pointing to the poster that had been stuck on there. ‘Is that here?’
‘Yes, the Christmas Victorian Fayre. The village holds it every year. It’s been going as long as anyone can remember.’
‘Since Victorian times?’
I smiled and shrugged. ‘Maybe! I kind of hope so. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘Back to the whole thing about having a story I guess.’
‘Exactly!’ I grinned.
‘So, what happens then? At this fayre?’
‘Well, the whole village gets involved. All the shops are open, and lots of other traders come and set up little stalls selling food and gifts, plus mulled cider and wine, of course. There’s music, and best of all, everyone dresses up in Victorian costumes. I’ve only been to one, last year, but there were times when I glanced round and you really could have been back in Victorian times.’
‘Would you have liked that?’
‘What?’
‘Being back in history.’
‘Oh.’ I tilted my head one way, then the other. My mother used to chide me on this habit, telling me I didn’t need to get my brain to roll around in my skull to produce a simple answer. I begged to differ. That hadn’t gone down well either. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think that things were a lot simpler back then. Life’s so complicated these days, don’t you think?’
‘Seems to be.’
‘But then I sit in a hot bubble bath, in a warm, cosy flat and consider that things aren’t so bad after all.’
‘Pros and cons.’
‘Exactly.’ We turned the corner into my road and strolled on. ‘What about you? Do you think you’d have liked living back in Victorian times?’
‘I think it was probably easier for blokes. There were a lot fewer restrictions on them than there were on women.’
‘That’s true.’
‘But bearing in mind my job, I’d be a bit stuck for an occupation, I think.’
‘How did you get into it? I mean, presumably you didn’t just wake up one day and decide you wanted to study plane crashes?’
‘No. Not really. I think, like a lot of positions, it just kind of happened. I have an engineering background in aviation and, of course, I was always interested in ways to make air travel safer. A position arose, I was offered it and I just continued in the same vein.’
‘Gabe didn’t explain exactly but I got the impression you’re pretty high up in it all now.’
Nate glanced away, and I took that as a yes.
‘Do you like it?’
‘It’s interesting.’
I studied him for a moment. ‘Forgive me for saying this, but you don’t seem terribly enthusiastic.’
He lifted a hand, pulling his collar closer to his neck as a breeze whipped down the street. ‘It’s not exactly a subject people like to hear about.’
‘Says who?’
‘My wife… ex…’ What to call her for the moment seemed to confuse him. ‘Anyway. She felt that it freaks people out, hearing about that sort of thing, so…’ he shrugged. ‘She probably had a point.’
I was beginning to see where Nate’s self-belief and confidence had gone. Crushed up in the apparently highly manicured nails of his estranged wife.
‘I somehow doubt you’d stand there and start quoting hideous facts and statistics if someone enquired what you did for a living.’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘By now everyone knows that air travel has a very good statistical safety record.’
‘That’s what I mean. And you’ve advised on films and TV programmes, haven’t you? That’s impressive. People love to hear about anything like that. I don’t know why she’d want you not to talk about any of that. I’d be interested to hear it if I were at a party with you.’
He looked down at me. ‘Is that so?’
‘Definitely. And believe me, I’ve been to far too many skull-numbingly boring parties in my time, so I know what I’m talking about.’
‘How come? I mean, how come all the parties?’
‘Umm… oh, my ex-husband was into all that stuff. Social gatherings and so on.’ Nate’s gaze lingered on me for a moment and I tried to act casual. I was aware that my answer had been vague but I hadn’t had time to prepare and I wasn’t a natural liar. He looked back up the street and let it go. Hopefully, he was just assuming that I didn’t want to talk about my ex and that was enough explanation for the wishy-washy nature of my response.
‘Then I wish I’d met you at one of these parties.’
We slowed as we came to Flora’s shop and the door to my flat next to it. ‘Honestly, you have an interesting job. Don’t hide your talent under a bushel.’
‘I thought it was light.’
‘What?’
‘Light. I thought it was don’t hide your light under a bushel. Whatever a bushel is.’
‘It’s a wooden bucket that was used for measuring dry goods. And it is. I was just simplifying things.’
‘For the dopey Aussie?’ There was a flicker of humour in his eyes, but I got the feeling there was some truth in the question.
I gave him a head tilt and raised my brows, my face serious. ‘No.’
He held the look for a few moments then glanced away, the briefest of nods his acceptance.
‘How do you know that?’
‘What?’
‘What the hell a bushel is?’
I shrugged. ‘My brain is full useless information.’ Half of which I’d learned at one of the last finishing schools to be still running in Switzerland. Although quite where I’d picked up what a bushel was, I had no idea.
‘Thanks for walking me back.’
‘Pleasure. Thanks for the company. And the soup. And the cleaning.’
‘I get paid for the last two.’
‘They paid you to cook for me every day? Blimey, Gabe really doesn’t think I can cope by myself, does he?’
‘It’s not that. I think it’s more that he thinks you’ve been alone enough.’
‘Well, that makes me sound a right sap.’ He squinted as he looked away, and unnecessarily adjusted his hat.
I let out a sigh. ‘No. It doesn’t. Nobody thinks that, except perhaps you, and if that’s the case, then you need to start listening to someone else.’
Nate looked back. ‘Like you?’
I drew myself up. ‘Maybe. If it’s a choice between demoralising thoughts like that and positive ones, then fine. I’m up for the job.’ I followed this with a salute. I’ve no idea why, having never done this once before in my life. My mother definitely wouldn’t have approved. And now I’d chosen to do it in front of the most gorgeous man I’d ever met. Of course I had. Why wouldn’t I?
On the plus side, that man was now smiling and if it took me making a bit of an idiot of myself to bring out that incredible smile, it might just be worth it.
Winter at Wishington Bay Page 8
