He shook her free and dropped to his knees to hug the huge wolfhound, who didn’t seem in the least concerned and was already thumping his tail as Isla watched. Cassie’s gaze met Raf’s, and she was laughing through happy tears as she raised both hands to her face.
‘What have you done! Are you absolutely mad?’
‘Yes, probably, but hey.’ Raf let go of Flynn’s collar now Rory had stood, and he grinned as Flynn ambled over to her. ‘We were just two guys in search of a home, and we decided to make one together.’
‘How has Pippa kept this quiet? And Harriet!’
‘They were sworn to absolute secrecy. I can’t believe we got away with it.’
But Cassie didn’t care. She barely even had to bend to embrace Flynn, his thick grey coat rough and warm and perfect. He nudged her with a massive head, and she laughed as she wobbled. The last time she’d seen him had been in the stable at Dorothy’s and he seemed even bigger close up. Did he remember her or was he just gently nudging her again because he wanted another cuddle? Either way, he was here, and a new thought had her looking over to Raf again. ‘Is he really yours? Please tell me you haven’t just borrowed him or something. Fostering?’
‘I didn’t think it was fair to bring him home if he wasn’t allowed to stay.’
Isla rushed up and flung her arms around Raf, and he laughed as Rory did the same, before they bolted into the house. Apparently even teenagers could still whoop with excitement, and Flynn turned his head to stare after them.
‘So you’ve actually gone and got a dog? But you’ve never had a pet before! Not even a rabbit or a hamster, something simple to start you off.’
‘Gil put in a good word for me with Dorothy and I’m still on trial,’ Raf said airily. ‘She said, and I quote, that she’ll have my balls for target practice and won’t be responsible for her actions if I let anything happen to him. So I’m on my very best behaviour, and actually, so is Flynn. He’s settled really well.’
‘How long have you had him?’ Cassie was still stroking Flynn, staring into an expression that seemed brighter, more hopeful. Her smile was a wry one; it was probably just her emotions running away with her again, and she was imagining it.
‘Four weeks. He’s great company and we seem to understand each other.’
‘But I thought wolfhounds didn’t like to be left alone?’ Flynn dropped his head to investigate the cool bag, and she picked it up. Not that it made much difference, she couldn’t reach high enough to keep it out of his way. Five minutes in and Raf had already thrown her another curveball, a very tall one with four legs and a gently wagging tail. First a house and now a dog? And the distillery, with Kenny and Vince. It was clear he was making a life in Hartfell.
‘Well, we’re working on that. I take him out first thing and leave him in the kitchen while I go do some work. Then we meet again for lunch, and after that he usually stays with me. He seems okay as long as he knows I’m in the house, even if I’m not in sight. I have done my homework, I promise.
‘Harriet and I went to meet a couple who breed Irish wolfhounds, and I learnt a lot. I know they need loads of space, comfy, supportive beds, regular grooming and a good walk every day. This place is pretty secure, but I can’t let him off the lead away from home in case he takes off after something.’
‘But what about when you go away?’ Cassie couldn’t quite get her head around it. Practicalities and Ewan’s reluctance were the reasons why they didn’t have their own dog, and suddenly Raf had gone and done it without spending weeks and months pondering the decision.
‘Pippa and Gil have him if he can’t come with me, and he’s getting used to it. We have Sunday lunch together most weeks at the pub or Home Farm, or here sometimes.’
‘But you don’t cook!’
‘Well, I do now.’ Raf’s amused gaze caught hers and that tremor passed between them again. She hadn’t allowed herself to think too much about staying here with him, and he looked so good. How was she going to manage, seeing him every day and denying what she wanted, what her body was betraying whenever he was near? She would simply have to find a way.
‘Come on, Cass, I’m not completely useless. I’ve lived on my own quite a lot and I get by. Anyway, you’ll find out how good I am because you are not spending the next six weeks cooking.’
‘What else am I meant to do?’ She laughed, because teenagers needed feeding constantly. She was always opening the fridge door and despairing at the empty shelves she’d seemingly only just filled.
‘Walk, sleep, eat, read, see friends, make new ones. What else?’ He reached for the cool bag, and she let him take it. ‘Oh yeah, sleep and read and eat some more.’
‘Raf, I’m not ill. I’m fine.’
‘I know that, but you have just left your career, and then there’s…’
She nodded, they didn’t need the words. It was always present, their shared loss. ‘But I am getting better; I can feel it. More hopeful, happier.’
‘That’s great,’ he said softly. ‘So welcome to your new home for the summer.’
‘Thank you.’ She caught his eye and her stomach dropped. Almost a month on from Glastonbury and this was the private Raf again, the man she knew best. Standing before her in a pair of cargo shorts and a green T-shirt, hair still damp from a shower. His suntan had deepened since she’d seen him last, accentuating the grey in his hair, the gold rings in his ears sparkling against his skin.
Before Australia she hadn’t known what it was like to be held by him as he might a lover, to press herself against him and feel his immediate response as they’d kissed. She steeled herself to greet a friend she cared about and not a man who felt like so much more, even though she saw the memory of that night so clearly in his gaze as it roamed over her face. They were supposed to be moving forwards, and all she wanted was to drag them straight back to that night and feel his hands on her body once again.
‘So, er, are friends allowed to hug one another?’ He cleared his throat, the shutters dropping over those impassive brown eyes she knew so well.
‘I think they are, yes.’ She closed her own as she stepped into his embrace. His hands went to her back, drawing her close. Her face rested against his chest, and she was utterly aware of Raf’s heart beating rapidly beneath her cheek, his mouth against her temple. Desire was a sharp kick in her stomach, her hands pressing him closer still.
