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“You’re teasing me.”
“I’m not. My freezer is also full of their organic, grass-fed beef. I virtually subsidize that place, but still he takes pleasure in driving his tractor at a snail’s pace and making me late for everything. He’s determined to slow the pace of my life from turbo to tractor. He has the biggest scowl in the West Country.”
She’d expected Finn Cool to be aloof, and to try and get rid of her as quickly as possible. She hadn’t expected him to be warm and approachable. She’d smiled more since she’d walked into his house than she had in the past week. Month?
His phone rang but he ignored it. “Drink?”
“Oh—it’s far too early for me but thank you.”
“I was thinking tea or coffee.” He pulled two mugs from a cupboard. “Despite the scurrilous rumors you might hear in the village, I do try and spend at least part of the day sober.”
“I didn’t mean—” She backed away, embarrassed again. “I need to leave. This is too awkward.”
“You don’t need to leave. You need to relax. Come into the garden. It’s impossible to frown while listening to the sounds of the ocean and indulging in lemon meringue pie. Cappuccino? My machine makes the best cup you’ll ever drink.”
She accepted his offer and a few minutes later was sitting on a large terrace with the sun on her face and the sea breeze gently lifting the edges of her hair. Below them was the swimming pool, and beyond that the sea.
Palm trees shaded one side of the terrace and the dogs sped off across the lawn, rolling over each other as they played.
“It always amazes me that palm trees grow here in Cornwall. My mother has the same in the corner of her garden.”
“I know. She’s given me a lot of advice on this garden. Even a few cuttings.”
Her mother had given cuttings to a rock star.
It felt unreal. She, Liza Lewis, was sitting in what was probably the most expensive house in the west of England, with Finn Cool.
The twins would have been impressed. Except they wouldn’t have taken the time to ask her what she was doing.
It felt good to have this tiny slice of herself that no one else knew about.
“This place is incredible. Has my mother ever been here?”
“Many times.” He sliced off a piece of lemon meringue.
“I had no idea. And what I don’t understand,” Liza said, “is why she’d make such a point of insisting I come down here to keep an eye on the cat, when she knew you were keeping an eye on the cat. Why didn’t she tell me?”
“That, I can’t answer.” He devoured the lemon meringue pie as if he hadn’t seen food for a month. “Could she have had another reason for wanting you to be here?” Dark glasses made it impossible to see his expression, but she had a feeling he was watching her closely.
She thought about the tense few nights her mother had spent with them before she’d driven her to the airport. She tried to remember exactly when her mother had asked her to keep an eye on the cat.
It had been at the last minute, after a conversation about how Liza put everyone else first.
Could her mother have been intervening? No, she wouldn’t do that.
Would she?
The idea settled in her mind. “It’s possible that she wanted to encourage me to take a break. And if she’d told me you were keeping an eye on Popeye, I wouldn’t have come. Popeye was the excuse. I haven’t told her I’m here yet. I need to call her.”
Her mother had noticed that something was wrong. She’d cared enough to try and help, even if her methods were a little clumsy.
She was surprised by how good it felt.
A bird skimmed the swimming pool and fluttered away again. Bees hummed in the bushes and a bright blue butterfly fluttered around the terracotta pots that surrounded the terrace.
She felt the sun burning her face and felt more peaceful and relaxed than she had in a long time.
Finn scraped the last of the crumbs from his plate. “You need an excuse to take a break?”
