Page 64 of Loving Netta Wilde

She pointed to the paint flecks, unable to bring herself to think about it any longer. ‘I like the colour.’

He looked down at his nails. ‘I did scrub up before I came out, honestly. I’m such a scruff.’

She wanted to smile but that would have given the impression that everything was all right, and everything was definitely not all right. ‘You said you wanted to talk.’

‘I wanted to say sorry.’

Well that was a good start. ‘For what?’

‘Let’s start with my stupidity and take it from there.’

She resisted the smile again. Far too early. ‘Go on.’

‘I know I’ve been behaving like a total dickhead.’ His eyes met hers. ‘A jealous dickhead at that. I don’t know what got into me.’

He’d been on the right track up until that last point, but no, she wasn’t buying it at all. ‘No, I’m sorry but that won’t do. I think you know exactly what got into you.’

Frank looked at his fingernails. He’d been busted and it was obvious he knew it. ‘You’re right, I do, but I’m kind of embarrassed to admit it.’

Netta didn’t need to say a word. Her raised eyebrow with an accompanying huff was enough to convey her feelings.

He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes scanned the beer garden and finally settled on hers. ‘I panicked. I thought I was going to lose you, and I panicked.’ This was uncomfortable for him, she could tell.

‘Is that why you stopped coming over?’

‘I suppose so. I tend to go into ostrich mode when I panic. The old head in the sand thing. I’m trying to face things properly but it’s hard. I’m not great with conflict.’

‘So who did you think you were going to lose me to?’

‘Doogie.’

It went without saying that she knew that already. She just needed to hear him admit it. ‘Did you come up with that idea all by yourself, or has Colin been helping it along?’

‘A bit of both. Colin throws in the odd thing here and there, as you’ve probably guessed, and it doesn’t help having him in the house, but it’s mostly me and my insecurities. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I saw him in Scotland. I was in a bad place, confidence-wise, at the time. I meant to tell you when I came back but I was embarrassed again.’

Poor Frank. Bad behaviour notwithstanding, she could understand how Doogie might threaten a man’s ego, if that ego was teetering on the edge of extinction. ‘How’s your confidence now?’

‘Pretty much non-existent, if I’m honest.’ Still teetering on the edge then.

‘But I don’t understand why. This can’t be all because Doogie’s here.’

‘Doogie the good-looking cool guy who’s living under the same roof as the woman I love you mean?’

‘Doogie, cool? You really don’t know him, do you? The man’s terrified of relationships and he has an allotment in his garden.’

Frank leaned backwards and finally looked like he was beginning to relax. ‘I’ve heard gardening is the new cool.’

‘Not from me you haven’t.’

He took her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been such an idiot.’

Netta gave him the smile she’d been holding back. ‘Yes, but you’re still my idiot.’

‘Am I? Even after acting like a first-class twat?’

‘You’re just about managing to hang on by your paint-flecked fingernails, Mr O’Hare.’

He put her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘God, I love you, Ms Wilde.’

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