Page 5 of Winter at Wishington Bay
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‘Penny for them?’ Eloise, my friend and fellow waitress, asked after she finished taking a booking on the phone. I was standing with my back to the restaurant floor, smoothing my apron distractedly.
‘Huh? Oh,’ I shook my head. ‘Nothing in particular,’ I said, hoping my pink cheeks wouldn’t give me away.
I couldn’t deny I’d been a little stung by the fact Gabe’s brother clearly thought I looked in need of setting up on a date but the brisk, chilly walk home that day had helped cool both my face and my annoyance. By the time I’d reached the top and passed by the garden at the top of the hill, still beautiful even in the depths of winter, I’d resolved to push the encounter, and Nate, firmly out of my mind until I had to return for the next scheduled clean.
Unfortunately, Nate McKinley had just put a big dent in my perfect plan. He was currently sitting by the window in Ned’s restaurant, gazing out towards the sea, watching as pewter waves reared and crashed onto the beach. Last night’s storm had lingered into the morning and, although the worst of it had now passed, the winds were still near gale force, bending the palms outside with a vigour that made me wonder at their resilience.
Eloise appeared to accept my explanation, nodding her head instead towards the tables.
‘Hottie at nine o’clock,’ she winked as she nudged me aside so she could write the reservation in the book. Ned and Carrie still favoured the old-fashioned way of booking, and I liked that. It was simple and it worked. Why make it more complicated than it needed to be? A pretty good mantra for life, now I thought about it. I smiled to myself and wondered if I’d spent too long in the crystal shop in the village.
I glanced up, then looked back, watching her write. ‘That’s not a hottie. That’s Nate McKinley. Gabe’s brother.’
Eloise finished her task and raised her head, sneaking another glance at Nate as she did so.
‘Really?’ she replied, smiling.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘The one you’re housekeeping for?’
‘Yes.’
‘I hope you’ve got a frilly apron and feather duster then.’
I shook my head, smiling, and she chuckled.
‘We didn’t exactly hit it off. Besides, he’s so wrapped up in his work and whatever else, I’m not sure he’d even notice.’
Eloise gave me a look. ‘Believe me. He’d notice.’ She glanced over again. ‘Oh, if I were twenty years younger…’ Eloise winked.
‘He might like older women,’ I grinned back.
‘That’s true. Although we both know he’d never measure up to my Bob in real life.’
I gave her a little squeeze. Bob had retired from a stressful but exceptionally well paid job a couple of years ago and they’d moved down from London permanently to the little fisherman’s cottage they’d bought decades ago as a peaceful bolthole away from the city. Eloise had always been the sociable type and loved to mix with people, so now worked at the restaurant a couple of times a week. Bob walked her there, and met her again at the end of the shift. Every time. The love in both their eyes was evident and I’d have given everything to have had someone look at me like that after four months, let alone coming up to forty years married. Even four weeks might have been nice.
‘You’d better get over there. He’s already glanced this way a couple of times.’
‘Right.’ Grabbing my pad and pen, I smoothed my long apron once more, pushed my shoulders back and walked over with a purposeful, confident air and tried to ignore the fact we hadn’t exactly parted on the friendliest of terms.
4
‘Good afternoon.’
Nate’s gaze swung from the stormy sea to me. Dark grey shadows under his eyes contrasted with the blue gaze and his skin was pale and drawn. He looked exhausted.
‘Hi.’ It looked like I’d been right on my previous assessment as I took in the faint smile hovering uncertainly around what was definitely an undeniably attractive mouth. ‘I didn’t realise you worked here as well as doing the housekeeping.’
I kept my expression fixed and tried not to bristle.
He dragged a hand across an unshaven jaw. ‘Judging by that look you’re trying not to show, I think I may have just put my foot in it. Again.’
‘Not at all.’
Crap. My ‘really not bothered’ face was way too rusty!
