Page 42 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘Gabe?’
He turned, dog still under his arm. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to come to dinner tonight. I mean, it won’t be anything fancy but as you’ve been away I don’t suppose you’ve got much in the house. Although, you normally just eat ready meals anyway so I suppose you might have some of those but …’
Holly, for the love of God, stop rambling.
‘Anyway!’ I said, a bit randomly. ‘Just, you know, if you wanted to.’
He smiled, and I felt my toes tingle a little. That couldn’t be good. I ignored it. ‘I’d love to.’
A little zip of excitement and possibly something a touch more carnal raced through me.
‘But …’
There was a but. Of course, there was a but.
‘I’m having dinner in the city this evening.’
‘Oh, OK. No problem. I was just, you know, asking in case you … so … right! Well, have a lovely meal, and I’ll see you later.’
I wasn’t quite sure why I felt as horrible as I did. I barely knew the man anyway. It was probably just the dog I was most disappointed about not seeing. That was most definitely, probably it. And just because Gabe hadn’t really dated all that much recently didn’t mean that he was going to remain single forever. I mean, look at him! Maybe he’d met someone at the conference. What percentage of people got together through work again? Something ridiculously high. And that made sense. They’d be able to talk doctory things, which was more than I’d ever be able to do.
And why on earth was I even thinking about any of this? Carrie had already said Gabe was looking for someone to settle down with, and that wasn’t my style, nor was this my home. Everything was temporary – including, I hoped, this feeling that I might be developing a very unwise, and inconvenient crush on my far-too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good neighbour just as he was starting to date again.
‘Yeah, my parents have come over for a visit. All a bit of a last-minute thing but it’ll be really nice to see them.’
‘Oh, Gabe. That sounds lovely!’ Feeling as relieved as I did that he was meeting his parents and not some six-foot, long-legged woman who looked like a model but could also save lives probably wasn’t such a healthy thing, but I couldn’t help it. ‘Are they going to be staying with you?’
‘No, they usually stay in the city, and just get out and about from there. My brother works for an airline so it’s been really handy with airfares and stuff. They emigrated to Oz a few years before I was born so they still have loads of friends over here, so it works pretty well. They’re free to do their own thing and I get to see them between shifts.’
‘Are they over for long?’
‘Nah, I don’t think so. They haven’t said, actually. They kept it all as a surprise and I got a video call this afternoon in the taxi coming home, telling me they were here!’
‘They sound like fun.’
‘Yeah, they’re good. Retired and making the most of it. All I could wish for them really.’
‘Yes. Exactly. Well, you’d better get a shifty on if you want to get back into the city at a reasonable time, even on that bike. You don’t want to keep them waiting after they’ve come all this way!’
‘True.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll see you later.’
I waved and began gathering up my books.
‘Holly?’
‘Hmm?’ I looked up.
‘I really did miss you.’ He held my gaze for a couple of beats and then was gone. Out of sight but most definitely not out of mind.
Chapter 9
The next morning dawned blue and gold and I sat in the window seat I’d now created on one of the wide windowsills in the living room, watching the sky. Sleep had eluded me and I had a good idea of the root cause. He was six foot four, had abs I could scrub my clothes on and eyes that a woman – or equally a man – could drown in. But thinking past that was just nuts. Yes, all right so he’d said he’d missed me, but I wasn’t going to read anything into that. I’d said I’d missed his dog – so we were even. Kind of.
I gave myself an eye roll, grabbed my sunhat and keys, and went outside. What I needed was a good, long walk. To feel the sand between my toes and stretch out the muscles that had become tight from a night’s tossing and turning. It was just that I’d quickly got used to him being there. Perhaps a bit too quickly. And his absence had simply highlighted that. But I never spoke to any of my neighbours in London and I’d got on fine like that for the last ten years, so why should here be any different? Possibly because none of the neighbours up there looked like Gabe McKinley. Although, to be fair, they might do. If you’d have lined all the residents of my apartment block up, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you who lived there and who didn’t. I mean, no one really knew their neighbours now, did they? Apart from down here, of course. But then Wishington Bay had always been different. It had a special quality about it, almost like it was its own world. One that I would be sorry to leave.
* * *
‘I reckon we could get started on that in a few weeks’ time, if you wanted to go ahead with it,’ the builder said, scrolling through the calendar on his phone.
