Snowflakes at Lavender Bay

by Sarah Bennett

  Men who looked like him probably had women throwing themselves at him all the time. He’d have his pick of gorgeous women with pretty hair and curves in all the right places, so she couldn’t really blame him for dismissing her unconventional looks and a figure that barely rippled from shoulder to hip.

  And if the way he’d stared at her like she’d escaped from the local freak show hadn’t been bad enough, his sneering dismissal of her beloved bay had killed her attraction to him stone dead. Well, apart from when she closed her eyes at night and her treacherous brain wove alternative versions of their disastrous meeting that left her blushing in the dark and aching for something she shouldn’t want, and could never be.

  Catching a curious glance from Eliza, she realised she’d been quiet for too long. In an effort to distract her, Libby pasted on a grin and waggled her eyebrows. ‘Only in my dreams. I keep trying to persuade Beth to dish the dirt on Sam so at least I’d have something to fuel my fantasies, but she just gives me that “cat that got the cream” look and refuses.’

  As she’d hoped, one mention of Sam was enough to turn Eliza off the scent. Scrunching up her delicate nose, Eliza grimaced. ‘Ugh, and ew, that’s my brother you’re talking about.’ Her expression turned from disgust to something more encouraging. ‘Once the summer gets underway there’ll be lots of guys around desperate to snap you up. You’re just having a dry spell, that’s all.’

  ‘More than a spell, parts of my anatomy have been officially declared a desert zone.’ As they laughed together, Libby considered what Eliza had said. The influx of visitors over the summer might well increase her chances of finding someone she half-liked the look of. If she could only get a certain arrogant smile out of her head for five minutes. Owen Coburn wasn’t her type, and he’d made it crystal clear that she most certainly wasn’t his, so why couldn’t she forget about him and move on?

  Not that there was anything to move on from. Those few cross words they’d exchanged had been the closest she’d come to intimacy with a man for nearly a year, which was embarrassing to the point of being pathetic. There’d been guys in her life before—even one a few years ago who’d got serious enough to start hinting at something more permanent, but he’d been hell bent on leaving the bay and couldn’t understand her desire to stay so they’d gone their separate ways—and there’d be guys again. She needed to snap out of it, and Eliza was right. Someone nice was bound to show up at some point over the summer, and Libby intended to be ready to catch him when he did. From this moment onwards, Owen bloody Coburn no longer existed.

  Chapter 4

  ‘I can’t believe he’s back in town. What the hell is he doing here?’ Libby muttered as she sank down on the toilet seat in Beth’s little bathroom where her friend was putting the final touches to her make-up for the evening. She’d managed little more than a quick shower and a change of clothes after helping her dad with the early evening rush. There wasn’t any point in dressing up, it wasn’t like she would be seeing anyone worth making an effort for. ‘Liar,’ whispered the traitorous voice in her head.

  Beth ran a pale-pink lipstick over her lips and pursed them together before she met Libby’s eyes in the mirror. ‘I don’t know why he’s here, but it sounds like he might be interested in what Sam’s doing with the restaurant, so it looks like we’ll be stuck with his company.’ Turning her gaze back to her own reflection, Beth ran a brush through her glossy mane of chestnut hair. ‘I don’t get what the big deal is, Libs. I know he’s a bit up himself, but you’re acting like we’re supping with the devil.’

  Libby pulled a face, knowing she was overreacting to the whole business. When she’d walked away from Owen after that first meeting, she’d fully intended to forget him. He might have been the most gorgeous man ever to set foot in the county, but he’d made her feel like a bug under the microscope and been rude about her beloved Lavender Bay to boot! Unfortunately, her subconscious had other ideas and Owen kept popping up in her dreams, the details of which were lurid enough to make a sailor blush. With no prospect of Owen returning, it had seemed harmless enough to distract herself with a daydream or two.

  And then Eliza had casually dropped his name into conversation during their recent girls’ night and butterflies had been somersaulting in her middle ever since. Not only was the object of several embarrassing fantasies back in the bay and staying at The Siren, he and Sam were somehow considering going into business together! In the hopes of getting him onside, Sam had asked Beth—and by association, Libby— to join them for a drink that evening.

  How the hell she would be able to look him in the eye and not burst into flames from sheer embarrassment, she had no idea. ‘I don’t like him.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie… Hiding her discomfort behind a scowl, she folded her arms. ‘If I remember rightly, you’re not exactly his biggest fan, either.’

  Beth turned on the stool, and it was all Libby could do not to wilt under the sweet concern in her eyes. ‘What’s got into you? The main reason for tonight is to meet Jack, and give Eliza a bit of moral support, remember? Owen’s arrogant, yes, but I don’t remember him being unpleasant. All we have to do is exchange a few pleasantries with him and leave the rest to Sam. It’s not like you to let anyone get under your skin like this.’ Beth held out her hand. ‘If it’s going to bother you, then why don’t you give tonight a miss? Eliza won’t mind.’

  Their friend had met a local farmer during a visit to the lavender farm which covered the sprawling hills above the bay and they’d hit it off. Still a bit raw from her separation with Martin, Eliza was feeling a bit uncertain about things, but it was clear from the way she’d glowed when talking about him there was more than a spark of attraction between them.

  Libby was delighted for her, of course, but it only served to highlight her own lack of success on the romance front. And now the source of her own personal humiliation was back in town and she’d have to deal with it somehow. It wasn’t his lack of interest in her so much as her inability to brush it off and forget him that embarrassed her down to her marrow. That and those ridiculously hot dreams. Libby shuddered, and hoped to hell the man wasn’t some kind of mind-reader or else she’d die on the spot.

  Squaring her shoulders, she took the hand Beth offered to her and tugged her from the stool into a quick hug. Eliza needed their moral support, and for that Libby could cope with a little discomfort. ‘I’m being ridiculous. I know how much the restaurant means to Sam, so I can grin and bear it. Let’s go and check out Eliza’s gorgeous farmer. I promise to be on my best behaviour.’

  Beth made a beeline straight for Sam, who was sitting on his own. A quick glance around showed no sign of Owen’s close-cropped dark head. Maybe he’d changed his mind about the drink? Feeling hopeful, Libby scooted over to the bar towards where Eliza was positioned behind it. Head swivelling, Libby scanned the patrons looking for Jack. ‘He not here yet then?’

  ‘Not yet, but there’s a lot of work to do on the farm so it’s not exactly a nine-to-five job.’ Libby couldn’t miss the hint of uncertainty in her friend’s voice as she fished a bottle of white wine out of the fridge behind her, and resolved not to tease her. Eliza held up the wine. ‘You having a large one?’

  ‘Does the Pope shit in the woods?’ Libby grinned as Eliza shook her head at the deliberately crude comment, but she was laughing too, which was the point.

  ‘Charming as ever, I see.’ Oh, great. Of course, Owen would choose that moment to pitch up. Bracing herself, Libby turned and gave herself a mental high-five for not fainting dead away. Her fevered memory had done the man a serious misjustice. From the severe crew cut to the tattoo covering his upper arm from the edge of his T-shirt sleeve to his elbow, and the faded jeans clinging to his hips, he looked dangerous and utterly delicious.

  Fury at her reaction combined with embarrassment, and all her good intentions flew out of the window. ‘You didn’t fall under a bus then? That’s a pity.’ Ignoring the pounding of her heart, she deliberately gave him her back. ‘If you’
re going to let any old riff-raff in here, Eliza, I might have to start drinking somewhere else.’

  She could sense him step up beside her, feel the heat of him like a stroke against her skin and it was all she could do to keep her eyes fixed on Eliza. ‘A pint of lager, and I’ll buy your friend a drink if you slip some arsenic in it for me.’

  He was only giving back as good as she’d given, but the dig hurt more than it should’ve. Eliza giggling like he was the most hilarious man on the planet didn’t help. And when she slid the money he’d offered back with a simpering smile, Libby barely restrained a hiss at her friend’s traitorous behaviour. ‘What the bloody hell is that all about?’ Libby demanded the second Owen walked away to join Sam and Beth. ‘“It’s on the house.” God, you were practically drooling.’

  The moment she’d snapped the words, she regretted them. She’d been the one in danger of needing a napkin whilst Eliza had been nothing more than polite to a man who was not only a paying guest, but who might hold the key to her brother’s future prospects. If she carried on projecting like this, she’d end up having to confess her messy feelings to her friends. The too-keen glint in Eliza’s eye said Libby’s dramatic reaction had already piqued her curiosity.

  ‘What’s the problem? You’ve barely exchanged more than two words with the guy and yet there’s all this animosity between you. Has he done something to upset you?’

  Libby shrugged, knowing she was acting like a sulky teenager. There was nothing she could say without confessing she’d been dreaming about him like some love-sick schoolgirl. Having no boyfriend when her friends were getting cosy was bad enough without admitting the best she’d been able to do was dream about a bloke she didn’t even like! Feeling embarrassed and awkward, she couldn’t help but overreact to every mention of him.

  It didn’t help that he looked better than ever tonight. The black T-shirt he’d teamed with a pair of faded jeans stretched across a set of surprisingly broad shoulders. She’d only ever seen him in a suit before, and the cut of his jacket hadn’t done justice to his physique. Libby ripped her gaze away before she did something ridiculous like climb him like a monkey. ‘He’s a stuck-up git, that’s all. Why are you and Sam so chummy with him all of a sudden?’

  Eliza frowned. ‘I thought Beth would’ve mentioned it to you. Owen stumbled across Sam going over the plans for the restaurant and he offered to take a look. Having someone with his experience involved in the project can only strengthen Sam’s position, and he might even agree to invest because the bank have been dragging their heels apparently. You know how important this is to Sam—to Beth as well. This is their future in the balance. Owen told Sam he was still on the lookout for projects situated here in the bay to invest in.’ She took Libby’s hand. ‘If he’s bad news then we need to warn Sam.’

  What a hash of things she was making thanks to a bit of singed pride and a ridiculous crush. Sam had been working so hard on his plans for Subterranean and Libby would be damned if she’d throw a spanner in the works. Owen seemed determined to find an investment opportunity in the area, why else would he be back down here after things had fallen through with his plan to buy up the emporium from Beth? And where better for his money to go than supporting her friends? ‘Ignore me, he…’ It was on the tip of her tongue to confess her embarrassment, but she couldn’t face Eliza’s sympathy just then. Eliza would be lovely and sympathetic and Libby would feel like even more of a failure on the romantic front. Why couldn’t she bump into a gorgeous farmer like Eliza had, or fall in love with the boy next door, like Beth? Libby snorted to herself; the ‘boy’ who lived next door to the chippy was 70 if he was a day. ‘He just winds me up for some reason.’ It sounded pathetic, but Libby was determined not to dig the hole she was in any deeper. Taking a sip of her wine to steady herself, she decided to shift the conversation onto more solid ground. ‘I wonder why he’s so fixated on our little town; you can’t get much further from the glamour of London than Lavender Bay.’

  Eliza shrugged, her attention now on the small group across the room rather than on Libby, thank goodness. ‘Maybe that’s the point, who knows? Sam and I thought a friendly drink would help grease the wheels a bit.’ Which made perfect sense, much to Libby’s chagrin, and Eliza’s next words did nothing to make her feel any better about her ridiculous behaviour as she echoed Beth’s earlier sentiment. ‘If you really don’t like him then I don’t want to spoil your evening. We can probably just leave him and Sam to chat…’

  Darling Eliza, always the mediator, even when she must have been beside herself with nerves over Jack coming to meet everyone. Libby gulped another mouthful of wine. ‘If it means that much to Sam then I can put up with Mr Full Of Himself for a few hours. But I’m not going to kiss up to him, so don’t expect me to.’

  Eliza raised on tiptoe to give her a quick hug across the bar. ‘I’m not asking you to, just don’t shank him with a wooden spork from the chippy, all right?’ They both snorted at the idea and just like that, Libby’s bad mood evaporated.

  Thankfully, Jack arrived not long afterwards and Libby’s conflicting emotions about Owen were pushed to the back of her mind as she did her best to make him feel welcome. It wasn’t exactly a chore—Jack went out of his way to be charming, and it was clear from the way they looked at each other that there was the potential for something special between him and Eliza. She could even forgive him for refusing an offer to tour the skittle alley beneath the pub which would be the location for Subterranean in favour of spending a bit of quiet time with Eliza, leaving her without a buffer as she trooped downstairs behind Beth, Sam and Owen.

  Sam’s enthusiasm for the project was infectious, and Libby couldn’t wait to see his vision come to life. Owen seemed to have forgotten their little snit at the bar, and she was only too glad to do the same. She’d chosen a seat beside him, and even managed to shift it further away from him without being too obvious about it. At least this way she could keep her eyes on the others and not stare at him like a complete idiot. They didn’t address each other directly, but the conversation flowed easily enough thanks to Beth’s subtle efforts. As they worked their way through a second round of drinks, Libby finally found herself relaxing enough to enjoy herself. Owen would be back on the train to London soon enough, and she could get back to pretending he didn’t exist.

  The men drifted into a discussion over some football competition Jack’s nephew was involved in and Libby let the conversation wash over her as she checked the time on her phone. She’d have to make a move in a minute—though her dad had said he’d be fine on his own, Libby wanted to be back in the shop to lend him a hand with the late-evening influx of customers. Five more minutes and then she really needed to be off. Glancing up, she caught the intent look on Owen’s face and started to pay more attention. From the way he was talking it sounded like he intended to help Jack out at the football. ‘But if it’s next weekend, you won’t be here!’

  All her worst fears were realised when Owen aimed a broad grin at her. ‘Now that Sam and I are going into business together, you’re going to be seeing a whole lot more of me about the bay.’

  Oh. God.

  ‘You’re serious?’ Sam asked Owen, and for one desperate second Libby’s hopes rose because maybe Owen had just been trying to wind her up.

  ‘Absolutely. We can hammer out the details over the next few days. I’ll need to go back to London on Sunday night, but most of my current projects are well in hand so I can be here next weekend. See if you can make an appointment with the bank manager for the Monday or Tuesday afterwards. We should have things sorted between us by then I reckon.’

  Monday or Tuesday afterwards? He was talking like he intended to become a permanent resident. And if he was working with Sam and playing football with Jack, then there would be no avoiding him. After her dad, Beth and Eliza meant everything to Libby so she would either have to spend less time with their group or find a way to get over this nonsense with Owen. Hanging around with two couples, how lon
g would it be before the suggestions and teasing about them getting together started? Her stomach churned at the thought. He’d already made it clear he had zero interest in her. How humiliating would it be to have her nose rubbed in it again?

  Unable to bear the thought, she stood abruptly. ‘I need to get back and give Dad a hand with the late-evening rush. I’ll see you later, B.’ There was time enough yet, but if she sat there a moment longer, she’d give the game away.

  To her absolute horror, Owen stood up. ‘I’ll walk back with you. Sam was telling me earlier how you make the best fish and chips in the county. I missed dinner, so I’m starving.’

  Well, what on earth was she supposed to do now? ‘Fine.’ Turning on her heel, Libby marched towards the door.

  Chapter 5

  Tucking his hands in his pockets, Owen affected an air of utter relaxation as he strolled along in the angry wake of the tiny pixie—Libby. He couldn’t quite get his head around her having such a sweet name. With all her spiky edges, and not just the rainbow-coloured ones radiating from her head, she should have been called something bolder. Libby was for a soft, sweet girl who knitted blankets for stray kittens, or some such nonsense. Maybe she did, it wasn’t like he knew the first damn thing about her—other than the fact she clearly couldn’t stand to be within five feet of him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Oh, and the fact he’d agreed to buy her father’s business.

  He’d assumed Mick Stone’s cloak and dagger act over selling the chip shop to Owen—insisting on meeting him miles away from the bay and then extracting his promise to wait until New Year’s Eve to assume final possession of the chip shop—was a bit over the top, but maybe not. If Libby had any idea her dad was selling up, she’d made no indication of it. He’d snooped a time or two during her conversations with her friends, and all talk had been around long-term plans. It was never too early for women to start talking about Christmas, apparently.