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A light catches my eye. Through the window, a blue and white wink on and off behind the row of trees that separate Low Catch from us. They must be Hal’s new solar-powered lamps kicking on. Which means it must be approaching sunset, the time Hal said he’d be over.
“In the meantime.” Myles looks around the shop. “You can develop other things to sell. Easter is coming up.” He reaches inside the breast pocket to his suit jacket and pulls out his phone. “After Easter,” he says showing me the calendar. “You have May Day and The Spring Equinox to follow. La Canette gets a flood of visitors, so if you schedule a few events on those days, demos, workshops, gift baskets, whatever, I’ll make sure they’re on the website and social-media pages.”
“Oh Myles, I could hug you,” I say too quickly and too unwisely. Because the surprised smile he gives me is definitely too warm to be just business.
“I mean you’re like my fairy godmother making a coach and horses out of a pumpkin.” I gush, trying to correct the impression. And fail, because he takes a step closer.
I pretend to look for something and step back behind the counter to make any possibility of hugging out of reach.
Myles watches me, waiting. The sexual vibe is almost electric.What have I done?
The crunch of gravel alerts us both to someone approaching. And then Hal walks into the shop.
He nods to Myles then reaches to the nearest shelf and grabs a jar of rosemary honey. “I’m stealing one of these for the glaze. The chicken is almost done.”
If there was a subtle current before, now it’s loud like thunder. The familiarity of Hal simply taking what he wants off the shelf without asking, the way he talks about cooking, make it blindingly clear we are close.
Myles takes a step back as if to avoid a swinging door, and that’s when Hal really notices him.
Both men face each other. Neither does anything but there’s a definite feel of male squaring-off, a standing straighter. Then Myles, face stiff, grits out a tight goodbye and leaves.
I prop my elbows on the shop counter and drop my head in my hands.
“Did I interrupt something?” Hal asks lightly. He’s closed the distance between us and lays a warm hand on my back.
“He was just giving some really good business advice and being really helpful.” My words sound muffled because I’m speaking onto my hands.
“And…?” Hal asks quietly, his tone slightly amused.
I look up and meet his eyes. “I think I might have just given him the wrong idea.”
He laughs softly. “Did you flirt?”
“No-o-o-o…” I moan. “But it may have looked that way.”
“You have no idea how captivating you can be, do you? You flirt without realising.”
“I didn’t. I just… Ugh.”
He pulls me into his arms and lays a light kiss on my hair. “He’s a big boy, he’ll live.”
“But he’s now going to hate you.” I groan into his shoulder.
“He won’t be the first on this island. I’m a big boy too, and I’ll live.” He gives me a quick squeeze. “Come on. It’s past your closing time, and you need to bake a cake.”
I don’t argue but my heart is uneasy. All I wanted was to help Hal; now I’ve made things more awkward.
Chapter Forty-One
Elodie
Unlike me, Hal is very good at cooking meat and his roast chicken goes very well with my salad of baby fennel, spring cabbage, and apple. Pierre and Gabriel, despite my earlier refusal, bring fresh seeded bread from the Du Montfort kitchen, three bottles of wine, and some cider.
Hal is sitting next to me and opposite Grandad and is being the perfect dinner guest. If I didn’t know better, and didn’t feel his occasional tension beside me, I’d never have guessed from his easy manner, he’s very polite and respectful to grandad but also relaxed in conversation. They haven’t actually said much directly to each other yet. But we haven’t discussed any business so far. We’ve agreed to leave that until dessert and I’m hoping Pierre and Gabriel will be excited and make that conversation easier.
“Have you thought any more about the mead idea?” Pierre asks as she pushes her plate away and gets up to help clear the table.
I wave her back into her seat, I need her there to keep the conversation flowing with Grandad. “I don’t think so. Brewing is a whole other bag, and I don’t have the facilities.”
