Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove

by Sarah Bennett

  Mrs Chivers frowned and Mia cut her off before another complaint could be raised. ‘Why don’t you go and join your husband on the patio, and I’ll run out and tell Daniel to pack up for the day? I’ll bring your tray straight afterwards.’ Mrs Chivers pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything else.

  ‘Daniel?’ Mia peered around the door of the barn, but didn’t venture inside. He stood with his back to her, arms raised a bit above shoulder height as he drilled another hole in the wooden partition. The pose tightened his dusty T-shirt and she took a moment to admire the view. There was just something about a man working with his hands that made her shivery in all the right places. Not any man, though. Him. Daniel had a single-minded intensity he applied to every task, whether working or playing. But she had her guests to think of. Maybe later, when they were alone in their room on the third floor, she could find him some manual labour… She raised her voice over the drilling and called his name again.

  The noise cut out, and he turned, tugging down his face mask to reveal his bright smile through the dark hair of his beard. ‘Hello, love, everything all right?’

  ‘Oh yes, just admiring your handiwork.’ She cast him a fake-innocent look from under her lashes. ‘I think the bulb in the bedroom overhead light needs changing.’

  His rich, deep laugh curled around her like a caress. ‘Behave yourself, woman. Did you come out here to admire the view?’ He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe his brow, giving her a flash of tanned skin in the process.

  ‘Ha! Now it’s your turn to behave.’ They shared a smile and the simple joy of the moment swelled in her heart. The art of flirting was yet another thing she’d assumed lost to her for ever when Jamie died. Such a little thing in the grand scheme, but each time they bantered like this, the bond between her and Daniel solidified a bit more. Learning what pleased the other, sharing a secret smile, using a codeword which meant nothing to anyone listening, but everything to them.

  Covered in grime, damp hair clinging to his neck, clad in scruffy clothes and with his beard a few days past needing a trim, he looked a far cry from the pale, broken figure who’d landed on her doorstep five months previously. He looked fit and happy, with no trace of the shadows haunting his eyes, and if she could spend the rest of her days watching him grow and change, life would be good. Her stomach fluttered. Soon. She’d ask him soon. That was the deal between them.

  Why not now?

  She opened her mouth, but the question died on her tongue. Her guests were waiting, she had responsibilities and it seemed ridiculous to propose and run. Something as important as that should be done in a proper romantic setting, not a dusty barn. Calling herself ten types of coward, she rolled her eyes and imitated Mrs Chivers’ best put-upon sigh. ‘One simply can’t enjoy afternoon tea on the patio with this racket going on.’

  Daniel frowned. ‘They’re back early then?’ She nodded and he shrugged. ‘We knew it would be a balancing act. I’ll finish up, then come and give you a hand with preparing dinner.’

  Mia blew him a quick kiss. ‘I’ve saved you a scone.’

  His eyes lit up. ‘And that’s why I love you.’

  Her tummy fluttered and danced. It was still new, hearing those words from his lips, knowing them to be an echo of her feelings for him. After Jamie, she hadn’t expected, hadn’t wanted, this again. Loving someone, needing them, meant risking losing them, and she couldn’t go through that again. But Daniel had given her no choice. He’d stumbled into her life and into her heart when neither of them had their guard up. A pulse of blind fear struck. He’d been out here on his own, anything could have happened to him and it hadn’t occurred to her to check. Accidents happened. That’s what they said, and she damn well knew the aching, ugly truth of it.

  Needing to break the spiral of her thoughts, she forced a wonky smile. ‘It’s my cooking you love.’

  He closed the distance between them, no answering smile upon his face. ‘Don’t do that, don’t deflect.’ She tried to turn her head, but he caught her chin in a firm but gentle grip. ‘What is it, what’s put that look in your eyes?’

  His features wavered through her suddenly watery gaze and she choked on the words. ‘Nothing. I’m being silly.’

  He pulled her into his arms and she snuggled into his chest, not caring about the dirt and dust covering his T-shirt. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured against her temple.

  The words came easier when she didn’t have to see his face. ‘I got scared. What if you fell off a ladder or cut through a cable or something? I didn’t think to check and I should have, what if—’

  ‘Breathe, Mia. Take a breath, love, before you work yourself up over nothing.’ He stroked her back, rocking them both on the spot. ‘I never climb when I’m on my own in here, I promise, and all the power tools are battery-operated. Jordy would throw me out on my ear if he thought I was doing stuff like that.’

  She nodded into his shoulder, knowing he was right. Jordy had given them all a serious talking to about what he would and wouldn’t accept if they took him on to run the project. ‘I’m sorry, I’m being silly.’ She sniffled, then laughed at the unattractive, wet sound. ‘I think I made a mess on your shirt.’

  ‘It’s destined for the wash, anyway. Look at me.’ He swiped his thumbs gently under her eyes to catch the tears shimmering there. ‘I’m not invincible, love, but I promise to do everything I can to be careful. Being with you is a gift I’m not going to squander if I can help it.’ He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, tickling her skin with his beard. ‘So, you’re stuck with me.’

  Stretching on tiptoes she caught his lips with hers, for a brief, hot moment. ‘I like being stuck with you.’

  Keeping an arm around her shoulder, Daniel walked with her back across the yard. He left her with a quick kiss to take his shower, and she gave her hands and face a rinse at the sink. Setting out the tray, she hurried through the dining room and out through the patio doors. Her guests bracketed one of the wrought-iron tables she’d picked up at a local DIY centre. Daniel had glossed them brilliant white and the matching chairs were covered in thick, bright-red cushions, made by Madeline as a surprise gift. Her friend was an absolute marvel when it came to sewing and embroidery. Mia was learning, slowly, but she’d get there. One of the best things about refurbishing Butterfly House had been the chance to learn new skills, to challenge herself in a creative way. Her youngest sister, Nee, was the artist in the family, but it had been a surprise to Mia to find she had her own talents, too.

  ‘This is lovely, dear.’ Mr Chivers patted her hand then began to load his plate with sandwiches and scones. ‘And not just the food, though I’ll be on strict rations when we get home, won’t I, Jen?’ He winked at his wife.

  ‘Silly old fool,’ Mrs Chivers said, but there was real affection in her voice.

  Undaunted, Mr Chivers continued. ‘You’ve made a beautiful home here, inside and out.’

  Mia smiled as a warm glow started inside. ‘I can’t take credit for the garden, my thumb is more brown than green. Luckily my friends and my in-laws have plenty of talent in that department. The garden and grounds are down to them. You should have seen the mess out here before.’

  ‘In-laws?’ Mrs Chivers’ tone held a hint of something sly. ‘I didn’t realise you and your young man were married.’ She nodded at Mia’s naked fingers. ‘No ring.’

  This was another of those things she hadn’t taken into account when she decided to open a guest house. Hotels were impersonal, anonymous places, but opening your home to people was different. They expected to get to know you, even over the space of a few days. No one had been rude, but she’d been surprised at how open people were, how much they shared with her, and the kinds of questions they asked in return.

  ‘I was referring to my late husband’s parents, Mrs Chivers. Daniel and I aren’t married, yet.’

  The iron legs of her chair scraped back and Mrs Chivers descended on Mia to gather her into a fierce hug. Shocked, and not altogether sure what to
do, Mia returned the embrace with a tentative pat on her shoulder. Mrs Chivers pulled back, ‘Oh, my dear, it’s an absolute sod of a thing to lose the man you love. And you so young as well. At least I had thirty good years with my Tony.’

  Mia couldn’t stop herself from glancing between the older couple. She’d assumed they’d been together for years. Mr Chivers gave her a nod, his expression supremely unconcerned. ‘That’s right. I’m the also-ran. Jen and I had a thing donkey’s years ago, but we drifted apart and found happiness with other partners. We ran into each other at one of those U3A clubs and it was like I’d seen her yesterday.’

  Was that a blush on Mrs Chivers’ cheeks? Mia found herself softening to the woman. Yes, she was an awkward customer, but there was a kind heart under there, too. She squeezed her arm gently. ‘I’m glad you’ve found happiness again.’

  Mrs Chivers touched her cheek. ‘And you have, too, I hope, my dear?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I have.’ A lump formed in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get all weepy again. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you in peace to enjoy your tea.’

  Mrs Chivers gave her one more quick hug then let her go. Needing a few minutes to compose herself, Mia escaped down the path rather than returning to the house. The grey army had done an amazing job with the garden, and the flowerbeds were already bright with colour. The shrubs and bushes edging the garden shone with every shade of green, a verdant promise of more to come. Buddleia lined the back of the lawn, framing the steps which led to the beach. Mia paused, picturing them ripe with white and purple blossom, covered in dancing butterflies.

  It would be the perfect backdrop for a late-summer wedding. Chairs on the lawn for guests during the ceremony and a barbeque on the beach afterwards. They could offer a package for couples wanting an intimate, more casual affair, and the harem suite would serve as an unusual wedding-night setting. Daniel might even be persuaded to take a couple of pictures, unique souvenirs of a special day.

  Warmth enveloped her back, and his arms encircled her waist. ‘I’ve been watching you for the past five minutes. You’ve got that look on your face. What are you planning?’

  She glanced over her shoulder and the look of eager expectation on his face bowled her over. Whatever mad scheme she came up with, he would be first in line to cheer her on.

  Not soon. Now.

  ‘I’m thinking we could hold weddings here at Butterfly Cove. We’d have to give it a dry run ourselves, of course.’

  The corners of Daniel’s mouth kicked up and he repeated the words he’d said to her just a few feet away on the beach, the first time they’d made love. ‘Mia Sutherland, are you asking me to marry you?’

  ‘Yes, Daniel Fitzwilliams, I most certainly am.’

  Chapter Four

  The miles slipped past the window, grey urban sprawl giving way to longer and longer stretches of green fields as the train took them east to west from London to Somerset. It was the same route they used when travelling to stay with their friends in Butterfly Cove, and Aaron wished they were heading further south to that peaceful spot on the coast rather than their actual destination. Luke sat opposite him, head resting against the window, eyes closed as he nodded along to whatever he was listening to through his headphones. A study in relaxation, if you could ignore his fingers drumming against his thigh. Aaron swallowed a sigh. Going home shouldn’t feel like a duty, but he’d dodged every invitation since Christmas. Maybe Cathy would be too busy being the centre of attention to bother with him.

  It wasn’t fair. And yes, that made him sound like a whiny little kid instead of a grown man of nearly thirty, but damn it, it wasn’t fair. He loved his dad, adored his brother and would have loved Cathy, too, if she’d let him, but the time for that was long past. He’d settle for friendship; hell, he’d settle for being politely ignored. Anything would be a respite from the smiling barbs and digs. Each time he crossed the threshold of the one place on earth he should feel safe and happy, he swore he wouldn’t rise to the bait. He’d be like Teflon and let it all just slide right off him. Shrug and smile, move past it and let Dad and Luke breathe easier.

  His fingers clenched around the small box in his pocket. The sharp corners dug into his skin to the point of pain. He could tell himself a hundred times he didn’t care, that he didn’t need her approval, her affection, but it was a lie. The cost of the gold Pandora charm in the box proved it. How many times would he do this to himself? Memories flashed of homemade cards hidden behind others on the mantelpiece, of flowers purchased with preciously hoarded pocket money left to wilt without water. Then there was the jumper she’d admired in a shop window which somehow ended up with a hole in it the first time she wore it. All easily explained away as silly accidents, but somehow it only ever happened with gifts from Aaron.

  A nudge to his foot startled him and he blinked the burn from his eyes. Luke stared at him across the little table between them, a deep furrow between his brows. His headphones were looped around his neck and faint, tinny music echoed from them. ‘You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.’ As much as he loved his mum, Luke was under no illusions about her animosity towards Aaron.

  ‘Yeah, I do.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘You really are a glutton for punishment. Ah, sod that, let’s talk about something else. Are you going to tell Dad about the cottage?’

  Ah yes, in just one week’s time he’d be the proud new owner of Honeysuckle Cottage. His offer had been half in jest. He’d assumed, once they’d had a chance to think about it, that Karen and Dave would put the property on the market. Orcombe’s location made it a prime destination for eager weekend commuters looking to escape city life. However, they’d settled for a quick, easy sale instead and, thanks to the miracle of two solicitors who had heeded their clients’ instructions about concluding the deal swiftly, they were in the final stages of exchanging. His investments had been cashed in for the deposit and he was the sole holder of an eye-watering mortgage. The monthly payments were less than his current rent, so it wasn’t like he’d overextended himself. It was just the overall figure that made his knees a bit wobbly.

  It had been too good an opportunity to pass up and, if he changed his mind, he could do the place up and put it back on the market. ‘If I get some time alone with him, I will.’

  Luke leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. ‘So, you can tell me to mind my own business, but how are you going to afford two places? The rent on my flat is sucking my will to live, along with the bulk of my salary.’

  ‘I’m giving up the flat.’ Saying it out loud, acknowledging the truth of what he’d been doing over the past few weeks, sent his stomach roiling. It wasn’t only his flat he’d given notice on.

  His brother sat back in his seat. ‘You can’t be thinking of commuting from Orcombe every day.’ Aaron stayed silent, watching the thought process play out on Luke’s face. There was a reason he was crap at poker. ‘Oh.’ Luke glanced out of the window and back again. Red splotches sat high on his cheekbones and, when he spoke, there was a thread of anger in his tone. ‘So, when were you going to tell me?’

  ‘Come on, Spud, don’t be like that. I’ve barely got to grips with this myself.’ Aaron shrugged his shoulders, not liking the guilt weighing on them. Luke was a grown man, they had their own lives. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. ‘Is it me, or is it hot in here?’

  Luke had chosen to study and then live in London in direct opposition to his mother’s wishes. There’d been tears and recriminations for weeks and his brother had faced it all with remarkable stoicism. He was the only person immune to Cathy’s attempts at manipulation, and the only one she would forgive anything. And, in his heart, Aaron knew Luke had chosen London to be near him, an open declaration of support and an enormous eff you to his mother. He owed him better than this. ‘I didn’t plan for this to happen, but the cottage was too good an opportunity to pass up, and I’ve been feeling out of sorts for a while.’

  His brother
scrubbed his face with his hands, like he was trying to erase the anger bubbling. ‘What will you do for work?’

  Aaron shrugged. ‘I’ll try and increase my freelance stuff, take a financial advisor’s course to expand my range. It’s a prime area for older people and those looking to retire, and with all the changes the government’s been making to pensions, there’s a market for it. I might even look at mortgage brokering in time. If going independent doesn’t pan out, then I’ll look for an accountancy firm in the area.’ That was his least-preferred choice, but at least his qualifications were transferable to anywhere in the country. Coming home to his own place, setting down some roots and becoming part of a community would be worth almost any price.

  Luke chewed his bottom lip as he stared into the middle distance. His thinking-face their dad called it. Aaron grinned as a memory drifted up of Luke sitting at the kitchen table, the exact same expression screwing up his little features, legs swinging back and forth as he tried to puzzle his way through his maths homework. He’d sit there for hours before asking for help, stubborn little sod. A fierce rush of love and pride flooded him. ‘You could do it, too, you know.’ His soft words startled Luke’s vacant stare back into focus.

  ‘Do what? Have some kind of emotional breakdown and chuck everything I’ve worked for away?’

  Aaron laughed. ‘Nah, leave that to Daniel.’ He reached out to cover Luke’s hand with his own, holding his gaze as he let the smile fall from his lips. ‘I’m serious. I’ve never known anyone who works harder than you when you set your mind to it. Think about how much fun we’ve had down at Butterfly Cove. Your designs for the studios are brilliant.’