Ellie laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s probably not worth the risk. Here, have another glass of wine. Pretty soon your muscles will be so relaxed you’ll be flying up to your room.’
After one more drink, Beth got to her feet with relative ease. ‘I really need to head up now while I can move. Thanks for the drink, Ellie.’
‘No problem. Good luck with the stairs!’ Ellie flashed her dimples. ‘Oh, and Beth, about bowls on Saturday … think about it, yeah?’
Beth smiled and nodded, but as she made her way upstairs—with minimal trouble, thank god—she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere near the bowling green on Saturday. Having a drink in the sitting room of the B&B with Ellie was one thing, but a night out with what would probably be half the town? Ugh. No thanks. That would be way too far outside her comfort zone.
No, her idea of a good time involved her bed and a book. Definitely no bowls.
* * *
Beth had a day to rest following her gardening marathon; she did nothing more than sit with her laptop in her room at the B&B, crossing all the items that didn’t require physical exertion off her to-do list. Online shopping had been the order of the day—she was in desperate need of clothes better suited to the cooler climate—and, intrigued by how much she might get for her aunt’s house, she’d started researching the current real estate market.
But today, two hours into a five-hour shift at the cafe, she was struggling. The minutes were ticking by so slowly and every step took effort, every dish collected weighed a tonne, and every time she wiped a table clean, she tried not to whimper.
She persevered, though. Because the last thing she wanted was to admit to Tom that she wasn’t up to the task, or to go home early and force Marge to come in on her day off. Not that she thought they wouldn’t be understanding and accommodating—they were the nicest, kindest bosses she’d ever had—but she was determined to show them that they could rely on her and repay them for helping her out when she’d needed it.
With the lunch rush finally over, Beth gathered the dishes from the most recently vacated table as the bell over the door signalled another customer. She turned, plates and glasses in hand, and froze when she saw Noah standing just inside the entry, his arms laden with a crate of eggs.
His gaze dropped briefly to the dishes she carried and one side of his mouth quirked up. ‘We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.’
Predictably, her cheeks grew warm. Two weeks may have passed since their last encounter, but the memory of it was seared into her brain.It’s not every day I find a guest back here. Especially one with such pretty green eyes.
She put her head down and crossed the dining area as if he hadn’t spoken. In the kitchen, she began loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
‘G’day, Tom. Got your eggs. Where do you want them?’
Noah’s voice sounded behind her, ratcheting up her nerves. She grabbed a cleaning cloth and spray bottle and made her way out onto the deck, where she started wiping down already clean tables. Hopefully, by the time she went back inside, Noah would’ve continued on his egg run.
‘I didn’t know you were working here.’
She spun around, her movement sudden, too punishing on her tired muscles, and she winced.
‘Hey—’ Noah took a step towards her, one hand extended, though he came no closer. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ She twisted the cloth in her hands. ‘Just a bit sore, that’s all, and … you surprised me.’
‘Sorry.’ He frowned slightly, his gaze assessing. ‘I just didn’t want to leave without saying hi. And I wanted to double-check that I hadn’t upset you. You know, last time we saw each other.’
‘Oh. No, you didn’t. I just wasn’t having a good day, that’s all.’
His dark hair, which he wore thicker on top, had a slight curl to it and it was slightly mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through—
‘And today?’
She blinked. ‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Are you not having a good day? It’s just that you rushed into the kitchen as soon as you saw me, then came out here. Can’t help but think you’re avoiding me.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders.
Thrown by the vulnerability of his stance, Beth opened her mouth but words evaded her.
He flicked his gaze over her and his frown deepened. ‘Beth, you can tell me to mind my own business, but did someone hurt you? You look like you’re in pain.’
‘Oh! No, nothing like that. I spent eight hours gardening the other day, that’s all, and my body’s not used to it.’ She blushed again, exerting yet more force on the cloth she was wringing, and glanced down at her hands.
‘Gardening? You’re still at the B&B, right? Ellie’s not putting you to work, is she?’ He dipped his chin and lowered his voice. ‘Because I can talk to her.’
Beth’s lips curved, almost against her will. ‘No, she’s been great. I’m fixing up a house and the garden there needed tending.’
