Page 21 of Love By Sunset

Jake dropped back into his seat and placed two mugs of steaming coffee on the table. ‘Thought we might as well have a refill.’

‘What? No more cake?’ Emily pushed her bottom lip out and looked at him from under her eyelashes.

‘You look at me like that and it won’t be cake you’ll get! Stop distracting me. I’m working.’

‘Doesn’t look like it.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve got dough to make this afternoon, and I have to do some ordering. Also, give the kitchen a good clean. What will you do?’

Her phone vibrated on the table, turning in a slight circle as it did. Putting out her hand, Emily gave it a quick look. Sasha again. ‘Maybe do some work of my own. You’ve no idea what you set in motion with your challenge to let go of my control.’

Jake’s eyebrows rose, and he leaned forwards, his elbows on the table. Unable to resist, Emily reached forwards and ran her fingers through the soft curly tangle of his fringe. ‘How do you get it to stay like this?’

‘Ah, well,’ he grinned. ‘I spend hours in front of the mirror in the morning with my curling tongs, perfecting it.’

She shook her head, laughing. ‘Sorry, don’t believe that.’

‘The truth? It’s been the bane of my life. I hated it for years, until it seemed to pull all the girls, then I sort of adjusted to it.’

Swatting him lightly, Emily stood up.

‘Hang on,’ Jake said, catching hold of her hand. ‘What did you mean just then, about me not understanding what I’d set in motion because of my challenge? Sounded heavy.’

‘It is a bit. But hey, I’m just your holiday fling. I’ll be gone in a week or two so it hardly matters to you, does it?’ Emily couldn’t resist making the barbed reply.

His eyes dropped and as his fingers tightened round hers, a wave of remorse almost knocked her over.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘Yeah, that’s it. You’re only a holiday fling.’

Despite the words spoken in a low voice, she thought she detected something else in his tone, but wasn’t sure what.

Jake dropped a butterfly kiss on her knuckles and released her hand. ‘See you later at my house?’

And this time, as he raised his eyes to look at her, there could be no mistake. There was a pleading look in their beautiful golden depths.

‘I’ll see you there,’ Emily replied, dropping a gentle kiss on his lips before turning to her car.

Fifteen minutes later, Emily stood again in the hall of the beautiful Victorian house. She really loved it, and it would have been good to see it come alive as a small hotel. Now Approach was withdrawing, she wondered who would buy it and what would happen to it. She sighed. Hopefully she would find the will, for Jake’s sake, but it still meant they would sell the house. The nephew in New Zealand didn’t want the place.

About to move forward, she stopped, eyes widening as a thought flew into her head. No! It was a silly idea. And yet, why not? She turned in a slow circle, looking carefully at the hall and stairs, the warm colours from the stained-glass dancing on the black and white tiled floor. Why not?Shecould buy it. After all, she’d burned her boats as far as Approach Developments was concerned, and there was nothing to keep her in London.

Right on cue, her phone rang. Gerry. Oh, well, better answer him because he wouldn’t give up and, if the roles were reversed, neither would she.

‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ he shouted.

‘Gerry, lower your voice and stop swearing at me if you want this conversation to continue in a civilised manner, otherwise all communication will in future be between our solicitors.’

‘I don’t recognise you anymore.’

‘No? Well, that makes two of us because I sure as hell don’t recognise you, either. Be realistic; a break-up was on the horizon, anyway. This Solhaven thing is only one of several recent projects where we’ve argued because you want to ignore the ethics clause. Jake doesn’t deserve to lose that café. He’s worked there for about twenty years in some capacity or another, and as far as I know, he’s had the sole rights to it for about eight or nine years.’

‘Jake! I saw him today! He’s turned your head, you stupid bi—’

‘Gerry!’

‘Aw, give over, Emily. He has. He—’

‘I wasn’t protesting about that, but your description of me. I said don’t swear at me or this conversation will end. Your choice. Which is it to be, an apology and a civilised conversation, or I switch off my phone and we communicate via our solicitors?’

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