Mia glanced up from her notebook. ‘Better wait until Madeline arrives. She’s my self-appointed Head Gardener. I don’t know a hydrangea from a hawthorn, but she swears there is hidden beauty somewhere under the weeds.’ She put down her notes and folded her arms. ‘According to local history, the gardens were famous in the area for attracting insects and wildlife. That’s how the beach got its nickname—Butterfly Cove. I assumed it was an act of whimsy by one of the previous owners, but apparently not.’ She didn’t sound convinced.
Daniel sat back in his chair, trying to imagine the scene. He recalled the half-buried statues hiding in the undergrowth and wondered what other treasures they might find lurking. He’d need to make sure he took his camera with him to capture some before, during, and after shots.
If Madeline was coming, then Richard was bound to join her. Quieter than his wife, he was no less enthusiastic about helping Mia transform the place and Daniel had quickly come to admire his dry wit and steady presence. Once everyone else was busy in the garden, he might try and steal him away for a few minutes to talk about the barn. His stomach gave a little nervous roll. He hoped Richard would approve of the project.
Having the older man was a blessing and a curse. His dad’s death had happened just as things had taken off for Daniel in London and the booze had helped to numb the pain. Properly sober, the hours spent doing repetitive tasks around the house allowed his mind to wander and his thoughts strayed constantly to the stern, reliable man who’d taught him so much. How his dad would have loved the idea of taking something broken down and giving it new life. Oh, Dad.
The sound of footsteps clattering down the stairs heralded the noisy arrival of Aaron and Luke. Grateful for the distraction, Daniel hurried to put the kettle on, giving his burning eyes a surreptitious rub on his sleeve as he did so.
The silence seemed to go on and on, driving Daniel’s nerves close to breaking point. Richard had listened without interruption to his ideas, and now wove his way around the piles of old furniture littering the barn, pausing now and then to flick through the scribbled sketches and notes in his hand.
Say something. Daniel opened his mouth, lost his courage and turned away. Dusty velvet caught his eye and he raised an old oilcloth to reveal an elaborately gilded chaise longue and matching footstool. It was one of the items on the list Mia had given him for the next room she planned to work on. Needing to dissipate some of the nervous energy filling him, he picked up the stool and carried it out into the yard.
He returned inside, to find Richard standing next to the chaise. His neutral expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. He nodded at the piece of furniture between them. ‘Need a hand with this?’
Was he really not going to say anything about the barn? Perhaps Daniel had been too forward in seeking his opinion, presuming on a friendship the other man might not reciprocate. He swallowed his disappointment and forced a smile. ‘Yes, please. Mia has some fancy plans for a boudoir, apparently.’
They carried the heavy chaise out to the yard and placed it next to the footstool. ‘Anything else we need to fetch?’ Richard asked. Feeling thoroughly miserable, Daniel handed him the list and trudged after him back into the barn.
Richard dragged a dust sheet off a matching pair of floral armchairs and sank down into one, nodding to the other one. ‘Before we get started, I think we should talk about your fancy plans, don’t you?’
Apprehensive at his stern tone, Daniel took a seat. ‘You don’t approve.’
‘That’s not what I said, son. Why don’t you tell me a bit about what brought you here? Madeline says I should mind my own business, but Mia is our heart and soul and I won’t have you filling her head with flights of fancy only to let her down.’
Daniel propped his elbows on his thighs and stared at the floor between his feet. What could he say? If he let Richard see everything inside him, then he would have to admit his failures to himself at the same time. He didn’t want to look back; he wanted to move forward. But if you keep hiding from the past, how will you ever get over it?
A warm hand came down on his back and Richard’s voice sounded close to his ear. ‘Talk to me, Daniel. Let me help you, son.’
The words poured out—every ugly hidden thing from the past few years. The drink, the drugs, the faceless girls and his own stupid arrogance. Like lancing a boil. He spoke of his fears. Of the bone-shaking terror that he had burnt out his gift, thrown away the God-given talent his dad had been so proud of. His dad. Oh, his dad. The tears came next, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body. And through it all, that strong hand never moved from his back.
Calm at last, he moved on to his hopes for the future. ‘I want to help people like me. Give them a space to breathe, a safe place where nothing matters other than their art. I’m not the only one, I’m sure.’ Now he thought about it, he could recall the glazed and dazed expressions of at least a dozen other artists he knew. That same jaw-gritting determination to cope because it was what you needed to do to get on. To get noticed, to be a personality rather than letting the work speak for itself. How many youngsters fell by the wayside because they couldn’t hack it? How much talent was lost to the harsh competitiveness of the art world?
‘And Mia?’
He glanced up at Richard through red-raw eyes. ‘I love her. Body and soul. But in the end, it’s not up to me what happens between us. Butterfly Cove is my home now. I’ll work side by side with her and take only as much of her as she is willing to give me.’
Richard patted his shoulder. There was no censure in his eyes, just a warm, familiar twinkle. ‘That’s all I needed to hear. Come on, let’s see if we can find the rest of the stuff on the list.’
Feeling lighter than he had in months, Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands then stood up. He’d said it out loud. Admitted what he’d been feeling for a while. He was head over heels in love with Mia Sutherland. Sending up a silent prayer that she might one day return his feelings, he followed Richard’s lead and began to search through the heaps of junk to find the things she wanted.
Chapter Fourteen
The sun warm on her back, Mia stretched and wiped her brow as she surveyed the decimated border in front of her. The weeds had run rampant and although she would never have much of a green finger, she had followed Madeline’s instructions to the letter about what to cull and what to keep.
Mia looked across to where Luke was cursing and doing battle with the old lawn mower for the third time that day. He had seemed happy to turn his hand to every task Madeline gave him. She couldn’t see Aaron, but the noise of an electric hedge trimmer pinpointed his location somewhere deep in one of the overgrown thickets.
Daniel and Richard were still in the barn. They’d been in there for a long time, only appearing now and then to haul out various pieces of furniture Mia had earmarked for the next bedroom. She had decided on an exotic boudoir theme after discovering a beautiful chaise longue under an oilcloth in the back of the barn. It would be a room to tempt and delight the senses, full of different, luxuriant materials, scented candles and lush greenery.
The name in her notebook was the harem room and she wanted the space to be one of utter indulgence, something for couples to use. The room was in the back wing of the house, which would offer some privacy to the occupants. Mia was toying with the idea of turning the room between it and the beach room into a sitting room so that it was a completely private haven for whoever rented the space.
She decided to speak to Luke about it, see if he could come up with some alteration ideas to expand the bathroom so she could install a small steam cabinet as well as a shower and a large bath. She looked across again and smiled at his crow of triumph as he got the stubborn old petrol mower going again.
They had been blessed with a bright day but the sun wouldn’t last for too much longer so Mia headed towards the house to prepare dinner. She waved at Luke and pointed towards the kitchen so he would know where she was. She kicked off her muddy boots in the doorwa
y.
Dinner was a calm, quiet affair and no-one objected when Mia placed a pack of cards on the table with the pot of tea and some shortbread afterwards. A quick discussion established a couple of games they all knew although it soon became apparent that there was some familial licence in the rules they each played to.
An easy hour passed and Mia felt much more relaxed with these men in her home. Aaron started to yawn as he surrendered his final hand. ‘I’m bushed. All this sea air and honest work is doing me in. I’ve never been ready for bed before 10 p.m. before.’ He laughed around another jaw-dislocating yawn.
Luke looked wide awake despite his exertions in the garden so she fetched her notebook and started to discuss her plans for the harem rooms with him. He dived head first into the distraction and they headed upstairs whilst Daniel promised to clean the kitchen. Aaron retired to his bed.
Luke surveyed the three rooms that would comprise the suite and started scribbling furiously in his own notebook. Mia sat quietly with her hands curled around her knees, which were drawn up under her chin. He was a live wire and when he set his mind to something his level of concentration and focus was a little daunting. Mia shivered as she tried to imagine being the sole focus of that much energy. She decided that it was too intense for her.
Daniel was so much more matter of fact about things. He was a good foil to her more sensitive nature. Mia watched the wild blond curls of Luke’s hair fall over his forehead again and he shoved them away in an unconscious movement. He was an impressive man, thick through the shoulders, like his brother, in contrast to Daniel’s taller, more slender build. They were all men who would make a woman feel safe and sheltered.
Mia stood up and stretched her aching body. The work in the garden was starting to take its toll and she wanted a soak in the bath and half an hour with a good book. She patted Luke on the shoulder and left him to it with an instruction that the space was his to do with as he pleased. He flashed her a sweet, shy grin before he bent back to his sketches and calculations.
She paused on the landing and saw that the lower floor was in darkness and only a soft light was spilling down from the third floor. She urged her weary, sore legs up the stairs to find Daniel clad in a T-shirt and jogging pants, sprawled in the middle of his bed with all the pillows propped beneath him.
He had certainly made himself at home in the little bedroom next to hers. A laptop rested across his knees and clothes hung over the back of a rocking chair he’d come across in the barn. The iron-framed bed he sat upon was a sea of flowers and lace; she ought to buy him some more suitable bedding. The green set had been washed and left on the bed downstairs for Aaron to use so Daniel had ended up with one of her spare sets. He made a dark shadow amongst the frilly pillowcases and flowery duvet cover. The contrast made her smile.
She leaned against the door frame. ‘Everything all right?’ There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he’d been subdued over dinner.
He lowered the screen on his laptop and smiled at her. ‘Yes, fine. Just uploading a few of the pictures I took today.’ She noticed then the camera connected by a cable to the computer.
‘Ooh, will you show me?’ She hovered on the threshold, eager to see but not wanting to invade his privacy. He hesitated just long enough for her to feel awkward before patting the quilt beside him.
‘Sure.’
‘You don’t have to…’
He shook his head. ‘I’m being daft; don’t mind me.’ He turned the laptop towards her, showing an image of Aaron holding Luke in a headlock. The brothers were laughing, caught completely off guard, and the natural joy Daniel captured in the image drew her closer.
‘It’s wonderful.’ She perched on the edge of the bed and he set the screen down between them.
‘I thought I might send it to their dad. He was always good to me whenever I went for visit.’
‘I bet he’ll love it. Jamie’s parents always moaned about not having enough pictures of him and his brothers once they grew up.’ Daniel stiffened beside her and she cursed herself for bringing Jamie’s name up.
‘You must miss him, terribly,’ he said, eyes fixed hard on the laptop.
‘I do. But it’s getting better every day.’ She touched his arm to make him look at her. ‘You being here is making it better.’ Her fingers tingled with awareness, and she stroked the fine hairs on his forearm.
‘Mia, I—’ Colour suffused his cheeks, disappearing into the dark hair of his beard. What would it feel like if he kissed her? Scratchy or soft? Overwhelmed with curiosity, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. His lips parted beneath hers, a soft groan escaping, which she captured as she opened for him. He took control, curling a big hand around the back of her head to hold her in place as he explored her mouth in slow, leisurely strokes.
Her head spun, and things long dormant stirred low in her belly. She gripped the back of his arm tighter, somehow afraid she would float away without an anchor to hold her down.
He broke the kiss on a gasp of air. ‘Go to bed, love. Before I make you regret this.’ His smile was sweet in contrast to the glittering need in his eyes. Thankful he had enough sense for them both, she slipped off the edge of the bed and scampered to the safety of her own room.
***
He shoved the laptop to one side and flopped onto his back, chest working like a bellows. Fists clenched at his sides he counted slowly to twenty, willing the fire in his veins to calm. It took more willpower than he knew he had to lie still instead of sprinting after her. The kiss was a gift. A sweet, sexy gift he didn’t want to throw away by going too fast.
She hadn’t come to his room with the intention of seducing him; that much had been clear by the surprise on her face. The taste of her lingered on his tongue and he forced himself to count again, reaching fifty this time before he got himself under control.
The groan and clank of old pipes startled him and he opened his eyes as he listened to the water hiss through them. Her little bathroom lay just the other side of the wall. His wash kit perched on the window ledge in there mixed together with the myriad bottles and tubes all women seemed to accumulate. He’d felt a bit strange going into her room but it was the only working bathroom on the top floor. At least he’d kept his eyes to himself, crossing her bedroom as quickly as possible whenever he went in there.
An image of Mia slipping into the roll-topped tub filled his head and he buried his head in the pillows with a groan. Being so close to her was torture. With a sigh, he sat up and threw his pillow towards the foot of the bed in frustration. He needed a distraction. Dragging his laptop back over, he did his best to focus on the images on the screen rather than the ones in his mind.
The ache in his neck from leaning forward too long forced him to stop in the end, and he put the laptop into shutdown mode and stowed it on the bedside cabinet. There was no sound from next door, and he frowned trying to recall if he’d heard the bath emptying. He strained his ears for some sign of movement next door, but heard nothing. He was being stupid; she must have got out while he was focused on his work. Crawling under the covers with a tired sigh, he clicked the lamp off and shut his eyes.
Bollocks.
Daniel threw back the quilt and crept quietly from his bed and down the hall. The door to Mia’s bedroom stood slightly ajar, soft light shining through the gap. He peered through, hoping she didn’t catch him acting like some Peeping Tom. The bed lay undisturbed, so he nudged the door a bit wider and took a careful step into the room. A neatly folded pair of pyjamas sat on the foot of the bed. ‘Mia?’
No answer. He crossed to the bathroom and tapped lightly on the door. ‘Everything all right?’ What if she’d slipped over and banged her head or something? Filled with trepidation he turned the handle, raising a hand to his chest in relief at the sight greeting him.
Mia lay in the tub, head pillowed on a folded towel, fast asleep. A few stray bubbles lingered on the surface of the water. He crouched beside the tub, keeping his eyes on her face rathe
r than the blurred outline of her body. ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he murmured.
Long dark lashes blinked slowly at him. This close, he could see the ring of dark grey edging the deep brown of her irises. A frown creased her brow. ‘Did I fall asleep?’
‘Mm-hmm. Come on, you must be freezing.’ Keeping his eyes averted, he stood up to grab a bath towel from the rail and held it out to her. Water sloshed and the drain began to gurgle as she pulled the plug and climbed out. He engulfed her in the towel and rubbed her dry with more vigour than finesse.
Satisfied once her skin was pink and glowing, Daniel fetched her pyjamas, leaving the room again to let her dress in private. He glanced around the bedroom, not sure whether he should leave or wait for her to emerge. Deciding he had trespassed enough, he took a step towards the door. The soft gleam of the bedside lamp caught the edge of a silver-framed photo and he paused. He couldn’t make out the detail, but the pose of the couple and their outfits told him it was a wedding picture. A black and white photo stood next to it and he blinked in disbelief. It couldn’t be.
He walked around the side of the bed and picked it up. The picture was of a woman’s delicate hand cradled protectively in a larger, masculine grasp. The man’s thumb was caressing the thick wedding band on the woman’s ring finger. The hands in the photo were not young, but creased and spotted with age and the ring she wore was scratched and nicked. It was a beautiful, simple image of enduring love. In the bottom corner of the image was a familiar scrawled word, Fitz.
‘Oh, you’re still here.’ Mia padded over to his side, smiling as she saw the picture in his hand. ‘Jamie gave it to me on our wedding day.’
‘It’s mine.’ He croaked, unable to tear his eyes from the image.
‘What do you mean it’s yours?’ She peered over his shoulder then up into his face. ‘You took this?’ He didn’t blame her for sounding incredulous. It seemed an impossible act of serendipity, but there was no denying it. The picture was from an early collection he’d done, a study of different hands. You could tell a person’s life story by their hands his dad had always reckoned, and the collection had been an homage to him.
Sunrise at Butterfly Cove Page 11
