All They Need(25)

He let himself into the cottage. He dropped his bag in the bedroom, then walked to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Five minutes later, he opened the rear door and sat on the steps that looked out over the garden. The temperature had dropped a little, but he simply turned up the collar on his coat and curled his hands around his coffee cup.

For the first time in a long time, he had nowhere to be, and no one relying on him for anything.

He stayed on the step for a long time.



TWO WEEKS LATER, Mel exited the local bakery and collided with a wall of hard, male chest.

“I’m so sorry—” She looked up into Flynn’s blue eyes and forgot the rest of her apology. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi. How are you doing, neighbor?”

She glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Hayley, but he appeared to be alone. Again.

“I’m good, thanks.” She straightened her sweater, wondering why she always seemed to be at her worst when she ran into him. Last time she’d been covered in mud, this time she was covered in paint splatter. Then a thought occurred. “You’re here to pick up your keys, aren’t you? Summerlea is yours.”

He held up a chunky key ring and gave it a triumphant shake to confirm her guess.



“Congratulations. That’s great. Are you staying the weekend?”

“I am. Although it’s going to be interesting.”

He lifted the shopping bag he was holding and she saw he’d bought what looked to be a month’s supply of candles in all shapes and sizes. It took her a moment to join the dots together.

“You don’t have power?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Some idiot forgot to have the utilities connected. So I’m camping out, old-school style.”

She frowned. “You know the temperature is going to drop into the low single figures overnight, right?”

“Brian and Grace didn’t quite get around to installing central heating, so I’m not missing out on anything there. But there’s a woodpile the size of a small country behind the garage so I figure I’ll be right.”

All very well for him to say, but he had no idea how cold it got here on the peninsula sometimes. Without all the concrete of a city to hold the heat of the day, the nights could be bitterly cold. Recently, Mel had had to resort to using two quilts on the bed as well as her electric blanket to keep the chill out.

“Come and stay in one of my cottages,” she said impulsively. “I’ve only got two bookings this weekend, and you can have your choice of Tea Cutter or Windrush. It’ll be my housewarming present to you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually kind of looking forward to camping out. I’m about to go buy some cheese and wine, and I’m going to hunker down in front of one of the fireplaces and pretend I’m living in another century.”

He almost made it sound attractive, but she knew better. She gave him a dry look.



“I’ll leave the key to Tea Cutter under the front door mat if you change your mind in the middle of the night.”

He laughed. “Ye of little faith.”

“What can I say? I’m a pragmatist. A pragmatist who likes to be warm.”

A woman with a stroller was approaching and Mel touched Flynn’s forearm to alert him to the fact. Together they moved out of the woman’s path so they could continue their conversation.

“How’s the orange tree?” Flynn asked.

“I was a little worried after the first week but I found new growth on a couple of the branch tips yesterday. I figure that’s a good sign.” She looked to him for confirmation, since he clearly knew far more about these things than she did.

“It is. You might want to give it a gentle feed with something organic, too. Help it establish a new root system.”

“Thanks. I will.”

She suddenly became aware of how close they were. Somehow, in moving aside for the stroller, they’d also moved together, and she could see the small crease marks at the corners of his eyes and the smile lines around his mouth. If she inhaled deeply, there was a very real chance her breasts would brush his arm.

Quickly she took a step backward, something close to panic tightening her belly.

“You probably have tons to do. And I need to get back to my painting,” she said.

“What are you painting?”

“The bathroom.” She took another step backward. “Good luck with your campout. The key will be under the mat if you need it.”