Much Ado About You

by Samantha Young

  She giggled harder.

  Sensing he’d get no remorse from his cousin, he narrowed his eyes on me. “Give it here. I’m destroying the evidence.”

  “No!” I held the photo behind my back. “This is priceless.”

  “Evie, give it here,” he warned, striding toward me.

  I stumbled back into the tepid sea, my sandals in one hand, the photo in the other, and held the latter out of his reach. “You’ll have to fight me for it.”

  Something flashed in his gaze. “Challenge accepted.”

  Suddenly he was on me, forcing me farther into the sea, my feet sinking into wet sand as the water encircled my calves. Roane wrapped one arm around my waist, hauling my body against his as he attempted to reach around my back for the photograph with his other hand.

  I’d been laughing until that moment.

  Any amusement died as soon as my breasts crushed against his hard chest.

  We both stilled at the contact, our eyes locking.

  The crest of Roane’s cheeks turned red, and he swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse as he practically begged, “Give it to me, Evie.”

  Dirty-minded me gasped at the request.

  Roane squeezed his eyes closed, his arm tightening around me as he let out a little groan. When he opened his eyes, his voice was thick as he clarified, “The photo. Give me the photo.”

  The sensible side of my personality was screaming to wriggle out of his hold, but the part that wanted to reassure him stayed where I was. “I like it. You’re adorable.”

  “Every man’s dream, that,” he said gruffly. “To be called adorable.”

  “You were a boy then. You can be adorable when you’re a boy. What you did for Caro is adorable. If I give it back, don’t destroy it. It means something to your cousin.”

  “I wouldn’t destroy it,” he replied, his eyes dropping to my mouth. “It was just an excuse to put my arms around you.”

  My eyes widened at his confession, and he gave me a self-deprecating smile as he gently let me go and stepped back.

  “But that wasn’t such a great idea after all.”

  Disappointment I tried to hide washed over me.

  As if he read my mind, Roane whispered, “It’s a form of torture, Evie.”

  Aware that Caro was still on the beach with us, within hearing distance, I could only gape at him like a landed fish.

  “Evie!” A voice carried along the beach, interrupting the tension-fraught moment.

  My befuddled gaze moved past Roane. First, I saw Caro, who was watching me and her cousin with open fascination. Beyond her was a stretch of sandy beach, shadowed beneath high sand dunes.

  Hurrying alongside the bottom of the dunes was Penny.

  I strode out of the water, avoiding contact with Roane, and hurried to meet Penny. Shadow beat me to it, almost knocking Penny over with his exuberance. She laughed and petted him, but her eyes never left mine. I’d sensed Roane and Caro following me and knew they were at my back when Penny’s eyes moved over my shoulder.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I asked as the bookstore owner and I drew to a halt a few feet from her.

  Shadow loped away from her, pressed his cold nose to my hand, and then stopped beside Roane, who absentmindedly petted him. He was too busy staring at Penny in concern.

  In truth she looked agitated, which was concerning.

  Penny gave Roane and Caro a tight smile before turning her attention to me. “Evie, can we speak in private?”

  My pulse started to race.

  What if Penny needed to cancel the last week of my vacation?

  No!

  I wasn’t ready to leave yet.

  Heart pounding, I tried to hide my distress as I suggested to Roane and Caro that they walk on ahead and I’d catch up with them.

  They seemed reluctant to leave, but they did, with Shadow bounding through the shore ahead of them. Worry seized my chest.

  Roane and Caro, Millie and Dexter, and Penny had all become important to me so quickly. I didn’t know if it was because I needed people to cling to during a difficult time in my life, or if I’d genuinely found special friendships with them all.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  I knew for a fact that I’d found something special with Roane, and I was afraid of it. Yet, thinking of leaving him, now or in a week, was a scary thought.

  I reluctantly faced Penny. “What’s going on?”

  She held her hair in a tight fist to stop it blowing around in the breeze. The wind was picking up as if to mirror my mood, and I shivered in my T-shirt and shorts. Although it was the warmest day of the year so far, that didn’t mean it was superhot and that sea breeze was cool.

  “Evie, I have a proposition for you, and you’ll probably think I’m mad for even asking but I’m going to do it anyway.”

  I felt a flutter in my stomach. “Okay.”

  “Remember I told you my sister wants me to sell up and move to Australia?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and what’s stopping me is the unknown. I don’t want to sell my store and leave my life here only to go over there and three months in discover I bloody hate the place.”

  “That makes sense.” But what did this have to do with me?

  Penny’s gaze sharpened. “Evie, we haven’t known each other long, but I have good instincts about people, and I trust you. I know from our talks that things are a little unsettled for you right now, and I think we can help each other.”

  “Help each other how?”

  “I’m going out to Australia for three months as a trial run. I’m gonna rent out my own flat while I’m gone, but I’ll still need someone to look after the store and its apartment. I want that person to be you.”

  Stunned, I gaped at her. The ramifications of her proposition cluttered my headspace instantly. Greer would be upset. So would my mother. Phil would be concerned too. But it would give me more time to figure out a path.

  And I’d get to spend more time with Roane.

  “Now I can’t pay you much, like, but you can stay in the apartment rent-free.”

  A tremor of excitement ran through me. My immediate reaction was to scream YES! at the top of my voice, but that goddamn sensible side of me took control first. “I’m only here as a tourist. I’d need a work visa for that.”

  Penny waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Already looked into it.” She pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of the back pocket of her jean shorts. “I filled out the employer form and I have the address you need to send it to, to update them about the change in situation of your stay.”

  I gaped.

  But what about Greer?

  “My friend is pregnant—”

  “I thought she had her boyfriend, Anders, or something?”

  “Andre.”

  Penny took a step toward me. “Before you come up with excuses not to do it . . . can I ask if you want to do it?”

  The only thing back in Chicago for me was Greer. The thought of missing out on the majority of her pregnancy made my heart twinge in my chest . . . but . . .

  Three more months running the bookstore, getting paid to do something I was loving more and more by the minute.

  Three more months with Caroline, Milly, and Dexter.

  Three more months with Roane.

  Something stressful that had been knotted tight in my belly for a week, something I didn’t want to put a name to because it seemed ridiculous to feel so strongly about a person when we’d known each other only a few weeks . . . well, that something began to dissolve, loosening, relaxing.

  I was relieved.

  “Yes.” I nodded a little frantically. “Yeah, I want to do it.”

  Penny smiled, and gripped my hand. “Then why not do it?”

  Why not indeed?<
br />
  Three months was plenty of time to figure out my life, and I’d get to do it during the summer on the coast of England. Rent-free.

  I’d be crazy to turn this down, even if a certain farmer and his friends weren’t a factor.

  “If they give me a work visa, I’ll do it.”

  Smiling from ear to ear, Penny pulled me into her arms and squeezed me tight. “Thank you, Evie. You’re a godsend, lass.”

  * * *

  • • •

  We were lucky to procure the table and benches in the garden of The Anchor an hour later. On a day like today, on a Sunday, the pub was heaving with tourists. We’d walked in just as a family was leaving, however, and Caro nabbed the table outside before anyone else could.

  The three of us sat sipping our drinks, Roane and I drinking cider, Caro a soda, while Shadow lounged at my sand-dusted feet.

  The cousins had kept quiet about Penny’s visit with me on the beach, but I could see they were growing impatient. They’d obviously expected me to offer up the reason for her tracking me down. I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to get their hopes up in case my work visa was denied.

  Not that I should presume to think their hopes would be high at the possibility of my staying.

  Yet, somehow, I knew they would be.

  “So what—”

  “Caroline Robson.” Roane was cut off by the appearance of a familiar blond woman.

  She stood over our table, staring down at Caro, wearing calf-length army pants and a khaki tank top. Her calves and arms were enviously toned, while her face was somewhat weather-beaten. It made it hard to determine what age she was.

  But I recognized her.

  She was the quad bike blonde.

  I’d seen her a few times driving through the village on her quad bike, but I’d forgotten to ask Roane about her.

  “Uh, it’s Mordue,” Caro corrected shyly.

  “No, it’s not.” The blonde scoffed and shot Roane a commiserating look. “ ’Bout time you took back your legal name, girl. Hell can stuff it.”

  Hell? I mouthed at Roane. Did she mean Helena?

  At the twitch of Roane’s lips, I made a strangled noise to cover my amusement.

  “You must be the American.” The blonde turned her eyes on me. They shone an indeterminate color in the sun. Green or blue. It was difficult to tell. “I hear you’re behind the market, along with this one.” She gestured to Caro.

  “That’s right.” I stuck out my hand. “I’m Evie.”

  The blonde took my hand and shook it vigorously. “Annie Foster.”

  Foster?

  I’d met a Foster already. Maggie Foster was an older woman who owned the art gallery/jewelry store. I’d been in and bought a bracelet for Greer. Maggie was sweet and affable and a good listener. She’d questioned me about my stay, and I’d spent an entire lunch break chatting her ear off. Not that she’d minded. In fact, I got the distinct sense she enjoyed company.

  I really ought to stop in to see her more.

  “Any relation to Maggie?”

  Annie dropped my hand, her expression turning blank, before she looked at Caro. “Is it too late to set up a stall?”

  Surprised by her abruptness and more than sensing I’d said something out of turn, I shot a look at Roane. He squeezed my knee under the table, giving me quiet reassurance, but I knew all of his expressions well enough to know I had definitely said something wrong.

  “What are you selling?” Roane asked her.

  “Lizzie’s paintings.”

  Caro’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m not sure people shopping the market could afford those, Annie.”

  “The wee ones.” Annie shrugged. “She won’t be charging near as much as she normally would.”

  Roane frowned. “But they’ll be worth a fortune.”

  “Aye, so?”

  Lost, I blurted out, “Who’s Lizzie?”

  “My wife.” Annie stared stonily at me.

  Confused by her attitude, I asked, “Is she a famous painter?”

  As if a switch had flipped inside of her, Annie grinned at me. “Aye. A bloody good one.”

  “She’s famous in the art world, Evie,” Roane explained before smirking at Annie, “which is why it’s baffling she wants to sell her work at a wee village market, when she could make a fortune on those paintings.”

  “We have enough money. So, we’re in?”

  Roane sighed. “I’ll see what I can do to add you to the permits, and let you know.”

  “You know where I am. Nice to meet you, Evie. Caroline Robson.” Annie stared pointedly at Caro before marching away.

  Caro rolled her eyes. “I think I need to legally change my name just to get Annie off my back.”

  “She’s not wrong.” Roane shrugged.

  “I’m aware.” Caro rested her elbow on the table and cupped her cheek in her hand. “I’m just tired of people looking at me like I’m some kind of weak little girl.”

  I reached across the bench and squeezed her wrist. “I don’t think that was Annie’s intention. I think she’s trying to remind you of who you really are.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

  “What’s her story?” I settled back on the bench seat, gazing from Roane at my side to Caro across the table. “Annie’s, I mean. Why did she avoid my question about Maggie?”

  The cousins exchanged an uncomfortable look before Roane explained, “Maggie’s Annie’s mum. She and Annie’s dad disowned Annie when she told them she was gay.”

  Shock froze me to the spot.

  Maggie had seemed like such a sweet soul.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s hard to understand for anyone who isn’t a closed-minded, judgmental prig.” Caro sighed unhappily. “Annie’s father and my aunt Helena are among the few who shun Annie.”

  “In this day and age?”

  “Small-village mentality. We’re not as bad as some, but there’s still people round here old-fashioned and narrow-minded.” Roane’s tone was clipped with disdain. “Some who even patronize The Alnster Inn over The Anchor because Dex is black.”

  Horrified, I could only gape as hot indignation choked me. “But . . . b-but,” I spluttered. “What bullshit! And Maggie . . . she seemed so nice.”

  Caro’s expression was pained. “She is, Evie. But her husband is a controlling man and she . . . well, she let him drive Annie away and refused to speak to Annie publicly.”

  “Probably for fear of the man. But that’s no excuse now. Horace Foster had a stroke a year ago and is now paralyzed, bedridden, and taken care of by a full-time nurse. Maggie could have a relationship with Annie if she wanted to.” Roane vibrated with disapproval. “He can’t stop her now. It’s up to her to make that move. A year passed and she still hasn’t? That’s not right.”

  “I think it’s a little more complicated than that,” Caro suggested softly.

  Roane grunted in answer, clearly disagreeing.

  Perhaps Caro was right, but I had to agree with Roane. It was up to Maggie to bridge that distance with Annie after the way she’d allowed her to be treated.

  A tension fell over the table at the quiet disagreement between the cousins.

  So I blurted out my news. “Penny’s asked me to stay and run her store for three months.”

  Roane’s head whipped around to look at me so fast, I could only imagine he got whiplash. “What?”

  I stared into his warm eyes and felt a flutter of something I didn’t want to feel at his hopeful countenance. “It’s not a done deal,” I hurried to say, “I have to apply for a work visa. Penny’s got all that figured out and is going to try to push it through as quickly as possible. She thinks it’ll take two weeks, so she’s letting me stay a week longer free of charge. So no matter what happens, I�
�m here for another two weeks instead of just one. I need to postpone my flights home but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Caro beamed from ear to ear. “I really hope they grant you the visa, Evie. I can’t imagine the summer here without you now.”

  Pleased to be wanted, I smiled. “Me too.”

  Then I felt Roane’s hand on my knee again and shivered at the feel of his calloused palm on my skin. My gaze flew to his, and he squeezed my knee. “I’ll see what I can do to make sure you get that visa.”

  The flutters in my belly went wild. “What could you do?”

  “I know people,” he said.

  He’d said that before. “Who are these mysterious people you know?”

  “People who help me get what I want.”

  My breath caught at the heat in his eyes, and he gave my knee one last squeeze before releasing me. Roane smirked as if he knew how he affected me and wrenched his gaze from mine to say to Caro, “If I invite people to The Anchor to celebrate Evie’s prolonged stay, you’re coming. No arguments. Helena can go to hell.”

  Ten

  I’m staying in England for another three months.”

  At the deafening silence on the other end of the line, I slumped onto the sofa and stared out at the dark sea. Broken streams of moonlight glinted off the water, moving with every gentle wave like fluttering silver fairy wings dancing across the surface.

  Yet not even the beauty of my surroundings could ease the rising tide of concern as the silence continued.

  To my shock, I received an email along with my digital work visa that day. Only nine days after I’d spoken to Penny. Last week, I’d called Greer and told her I was staying for an extra week because Penny offered me a deal. I hadn’t seen any point alarming her about the prospect of my staying in England for longer until it was for certain.

  Now it was certain.

  “Greer?”

  She cleared her throat, and then her words came out tight, as though she were clenching her teeth. “How is that possible?”

  Quietly, as though I were afraid a loud tone would spook her, I explained Penny’s situation, her proposition, and the arrival of my work visa.