‘Hello, gorgeous boy! Look at you! Yes, yes, you’re very handsome, aren’t you?’ A familiar soft voice distracted Jack from whatever Sam had been about to say next and he glanced down to see a woman crouched over an ecstatic-looking Bastian. He couldn’t make out her face thanks to the sandy curls tumbling around her shoulders, and she sounded a lot more enthusiastic than earlier, but he had more than a sneaking suspicion of who she might be. Well, damn.
The woman straightened up, one hand still scratching the dog behind his ears, and familiar moss-green eyes met his stare, proving his suspicion correct. ‘Oh. It’s you,’ she said in the way one might observe finding a slug in their salad. ‘What are you doing here?’ Make that half a slug.
Jack gestured to his drink, trying to ignore the heat rising on the back of his neck. Embarrassment over his earlier rudeness doused his good mood. ‘It’s a pub, isn’t it? I’m doing what most people do in one.’ Nice one, you wanker. What was it about her that made him so defensive?
She wrinkled her snub of a nose at him, drawing his attention once again to the smattering of freckles across it. ‘Not for much longer if you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head.’ She glanced away from him to Bastian, crouching once more to lavish the Labrador with attention. ‘Not even if you’ve brought the most gorgeous-looking dog with you.’ The tone she used to address Bastian was infinitely warmer than the one she’d used on Jack.
Sam cleared his throat. ‘You remember my sister, Eliza? She’s not normally this rude.’
Eliza. Memories of giggling girls he’d eyed from across the pub in his teenage years tumbled through his head. So that’s where he’d recognised her from. Although if memory served him right, she’d always been with the same boy.
His trip down memory lane ended abruptly when Eliza straightened up and graced him with a look likely to give him frostbite, even in the middle of the current heatwave. ‘Mr Gilbert took offence when I disturbed him at the farm earlier.’
There was enough of a trace of hurt in her voice to smack some sense into Jack, and he offered her his hand. ‘It’s Jack.’
‘The lad, I heard.’ The look she gave him said she knew exactly why her brother called him that. Jack rolled his shoulders; so he’d played the field a bit, what of it? He’d never been out with a woman who didn’t share the same expectations—and boundaries. Refusing to feel embarrassed when he’d done nothing wrong, Jack decided to skip over it. ‘Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was in a foul mood, but that’s no excuse for being an arse. Can we start again?’
She eyed his hand warily for a moment before placing her palm against his. Her slender fingers seemed to disappear beneath his as they closed around them, adding to his early impression of her delicacy. ‘All right, then.’
Another customer hailed her, and Eliza made to step behind the bar, then froze to look back at him, then down. When Jack followed her gaze, he realised with a start that he was still holding onto her hand and dropped it with a mumbled apology. Jesus, he needed to get a grip. Or not as the case may be.
Finding his eyes straying towards where she was laughing over the bar at some comment from the man she was serving, Jack shook himself and turned his attention back to Sam. Now he knew the connection between them, it was obvious he and Eliza were related. Same sandy hair, same green eyes. He listened avidly as Sam described his plans to convert the old skittle alley beneath the pub into a high-end restaurant until eventually another customer drew him away.
Settling down on an empty stool, Jack snagged a copy of the local paper which sat folded on the bar next to him. A few minutes of browsing through the latest news, adverts and personal announcements got him halfway down his pint and feeling more relaxed. Bastian had drunk his fill from his bowl and flopped in an untidy heap with his head resting on one of Jack’s feet. His mind strayed back to the problem with the tractor—he’d checked and cleaned the connections and topped up the water in the radiator, but it shouldn’t have overheated the way it had. He would have to go over everything with a fine-toothed comb in the morning and see if he could pinpoint the fault.
A delicious waft of a rich, heady perfume caught his attention and he glanced up to find Eliza’s face an inch or two from his own, that sweet smile curling her mouth at the corners. ‘You don’t strike me as someone who’d be fascinated by the local bowls league.’
Jack frowned, and she tapped the newspaper in front of him. Lost in his thoughts over work, he’d been staring unseeing at a breathless article about the Lavender Bay bowls team’s nail-biting victory over their fiercest rivals from the next town over. His eyes lifted back up to find Eliza still leaning over the bar.
This close, her freckles stood out clearly against her milk-pale skin. The pretty mint-green dress she wore drew attention to the deeper green of her eyes. He tried not to think about touching the pad of his thumb to the dimple next to her rose-red lips. Rose-red lips? He’d clearly spent too long in the sun earlier and it’d cooked his brain. Shoving away the fanciful notions of her beauty, he cleared his throat. ‘Bowls isn’t really my thing. I was miles away.’
Eliza tilted her head, causing the wild curls of her hair to tumble over one shoulder, leaving the other one bare. Her motion drew his eyes lower to a scatter of darker freckles just below her collarbone. Their arrangement held him captive, reminding him of a constellation. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, as though if he stared long enough the pattern would reveal a secret about his future the way the stars spoke to astrologers. Bloody hell, the sun hadn’t just cooked his brain, it’d melted it into mush.
Knowing it had been too long since he’d spoken, Jack wet his lips. ‘I…I was thinking about my tractor.’ Smooth, mate.
She quirked an eyebrow at him, those pretty red lips pursing in amusement.
‘It broke down earlier, after we…ah, met.’ He scrubbed at the stubble on his chin wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He’d never been so tongue-tied in his life. ‘I decided it was probably karma catching up with me.’
Her laugh rippled through him like an electric current. Jack grabbed for his pint and drained most of what remained in the glass. Perhaps he should’ve just upended it over his head because he was acting like some stupid boy with a crush. Yes, he’d come to the pub with half a mind to meet a willing woman for a little fun, but Sam’s sister didn’t strike him as the kind of girl you fooled around with.
No time. No room for this, think about Noah. The reminder doused the embers of attraction before they had chance to do much more than smoulder. The poor kid didn’t know if he was coming or going as it was and needed all the stability Jack and his mum could give him. Introducing a woman into the mix would only cause further confusion to the already vulnerable boy—especially considering the way Noah’s own mother had behaved towards him. Apart from cards at Christmas and his birthday and the odd guilty present in the post, Lydia had remained resolutely absent from Noah’s life since he’d been a baby. Jack would cut his own arm off before he’d bring another woman into his life only to have her walk away when things didn’t work out.
Needing to draw a physical as well as mental line, Jack took a step backwards, disturbing Bastian in the process. The Labrador rose to his feet with a grumbling whine, but soon perked up when he noticed his new favourite person. Installing himself behind the bar, the dog nudged at Eliza’s hand until she began to stroke his ears. ‘Sebastian!’ Jack might as well be talking to himself for all the notice the bloody mutt took of him.
‘He’s all right,’ Eliza crooned. ‘Aren’t you, gorgeous?’
Feeling like whining himself, Jack drained the rest of his beer. ‘Well, I suppose we should be heading back.’
She glanced up at him, then over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s only just after eight, are you sure you don’t want another drink?’ Was she keen to get him to stay, or merely being a practical landlady with one eye on her profits? Either way, it was enough to make him hesitate. ‘Unless you need to go? I suppose you
farmers have an early start.’
It would take him quarter of an hour to walk home—less if he was brisk. Even if he stayed for another drink he could still be back by nine. He was doing the school run tomorrow because his mum was heading into Truro to meet an old friend for coffee, so he’d planned to stay close to home doing chores—and trying to sort out the tractor now, of course. There would be hours for any alcohol to clear his system, but after Jason’s accident, Jack was paranoid about anything to do with driving. ‘I don’t have to rush off, but I’ll have a soft drink this time, please.’
‘Coke? Lemonade?’
Craning his neck to study the contents of the low fridge behind her, Jack shook his head. ‘Nothing too sweet…’
Eliza nudged a panting Bastian back to the public side of the bar with her knee, then washed her hands at the sink below the bar. ‘Hmm…we’ve got a nice tonic water with a hint of lime. It’s lovely and refreshing.’
‘Sounds great, thank you.’ Jack tried, and failed, not to notice the way the short skirt of her dress pulled tight around her curvy rear as Eliza bent to retrieve a glass bottle from the fridge. She added ice to a tall, slender glass, poured over half the water and placed it and the bottle on the mat in front of him. He fished a note out of his wallet and accepted the change with a smile. ‘Cheers.’ He took a mouthful and closed his eyes in appreciation at the bitter, fruity tang of his drink.
When he opened them, she was grinning at him. ‘Good, huh?’ She pointed to a cluster of men sitting at a table in the corner. ‘My dad’s a whizz when it comes to anything mechanical. I’m sure he’d be happy to take a look at your tractor if you want a second opinion.’
Caught off guard by the comment, Jack’s immediate reaction was to refuse. As though sensing it, Eliza hurried on quickly. ‘He’s not been well lately, if it wouldn’t be too much inconvenience to you I think it would do him a power of good to feel useful again.’ A hint of worry clouded her pretty eyes.
He still owed her for his earlier rudeness, and to be honest it would be good to get another opinion. He and Jason had always bounced things off each other, and although his mum knew everything when it came to cultivating their crop, she’d always left the machinery maintenance to her husband and then her sons. He knew Paul Barnes well enough to say hello to, having been served plenty of times by him over the years, and he’d always seemed a decent enough guy. What harm could it do? ‘Sure,’ he found himself saying. ‘Why not?’
Chapter Five
Eliza wasn’t sure why she’d offered up her dad to try and help Jack out. When she’d left the farm that morning, embarrassed and more than a little upset by his rudeness, she would’ve been happy never to set eyes on him again. He was lucky he had such a gorgeous dog otherwise she wouldn’t have given him the time of day. There was something about him that spoke to her—a hint of vulnerability lurking behind the sharp words. She didn’t remember much about him from the past. He and his brother hadn’t gone to the local school for some reason she couldn’t quite recall. They’d come around the pub once they were old enough, but they’d not mixed much that she remembered, and she’d not had eyes for anyone other than Martin. Trying to recall them now, it was Jason she had the most distinct memory of, with his big booming laugh and ready smile. Jack had been his shadow.
Once they’d started chatting this evening, he’d opened up a little bit. And when he’d gifted her with a sunny smile which lifted the shadows around his eyes, she’d found there was a very different person lurking behind those walls of arrogance. Teasing him had come as easily to her as breathing, and who would’ve thought it would be so easy to make a burly farmer blush? Add in the terrible accident in which he’d lost his brother and she had no chance. Always a sucker for a lost cause, Eliza found herself wanting to reach out and help him.
Wondering if she was setting herself up for another fall, especially given his ability to blow hot and cold, trepidation set in as she wound her way through the scattered tables towards where her dad sat with Pops and a few of his cronies. With a quick glance over her shoulder to check Jack had followed her, she placed a hand on her dad’s shoulder and leaned down to brush a kiss on his cheek. ‘You busy?’ she asked when he turned to look up at her with a smile.
‘No, lovely girl, what can I do for you?’ He must’ve noticed Jack standing just behind her from the way his eyebrows raised.
She turned to include Jack in their circle. ‘Jack’s from up at Gilbert’s farm. He’s having a bit of engine trouble with a tractor and I thought you might have time tomorrow to take a look.’
Paul Barnes stood to offer Jack his hand. ‘I’ve seen you in here a time or two, Jack.’
He nodded. ‘Haven’t been down for a while, Mr Barnes, but Jason and I used to enjoy a drink here.’ Always hopeless in the face of raw emotion, Eliza blinked hard at the sudden sting of tears which rose unbidden at the stark expression on Jack’s face.
Her dad placed a hand on Jack’s arm. ‘Terrible business, that, lad.’ He gave himself a little shake, then continued. ‘But I’m sure you’re sick of people saying so. Pull up a seat and let’s have a chat about this tractor problem.’ Scooting his chair back, he cleared a space at the table. ‘Shove over a bit, Pops.’
Eliza’s grandad—universally known as Pops to everyone in the family—obliged and Jack borrowed a spare stool from a nearby table to settle between them. Obviously not wanting to be left out, his chocolate Labrador wiggled in next to Pops and nosed the empty wrapper from a bag of peanuts. With a laugh, Eliza leaned forward to snatch up the packet. ‘None of that now.’
Both dog and owner turned to regard her, making Eliza aware of how close she was standing to Jack. Hiding her blush with another laugh, Eliza busied herself clearing the rest of the table, taking orders for a fresh round of drinks for Pops and his friends. When she returned to the bar it was to find her brother regarding her with a speculative gleam in his eye. Choosing to ignore it, she dumped the dirty glasses and rubbish, then opened the fridge to retrieve a bottle of alcoholic ginger beer. Sam was still staring at her when she turned around, and it made her distinctly uncomfortable. ‘What?’
His eyebrows raised at her sharp tone. ‘You and Jack seem a bit cosy. I could’ve sworn he was the one you were ranting about this afternoon.’
Cheeks flaming, Eliza ducked her head over the steel ice tray and busied herself scooping some into a pint glass. Perhaps she ought to stick her face in the tray and cool down. ‘I’m just being friendly; he’s had a tough time of it lately.’ She popped the cap on the bottle, then gestured with it at the taps on the bar. ‘If you’ve enough time to be misreading a situation you can make yourself busy and pull a couple of pints of Best.’
Giving her his patent annoying-big-brother knowing grin, Sam saluted with a couple of fingers at his brow. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He poured the drinks then placed them on a round tray next to her on the bar. ‘So, what are Jack and Dad so intent upon?’
Sam’s comment drew her attention back to the corner table to see her dad sketching something with his hands in the air whilst Jack nodded. ‘He’s got some mechanical problem with a tractor and I thought Dad might be able to offer him some advice.’
She added the ginger beer, a pint of cola and a measure of scotch with a small jug of water to the tray and would’ve picked it up had Sam not curled an arm around her shoulders. ‘Look at Dad,’ he murmured close to her ear. ‘I haven’t seen him looking so animated in ages. You did good, Sis.’ His lips brushed her temple then he disengaged his arm. ‘Shall I take these over for you?’
‘Thanks, that’d be good.’ Ignoring the little pang of disappointment at not having an excuse to get close to Jack again, Eliza made herself busy wiping down the bar. Really, what on earth was the matter with her? A nice smile was all well and good, but it didn’t mean she had to act like a goose over the man. And a very nice chest, too. Giving her subconscious a mental swat, she grabbed a collection tray and started clearing empty glasses, cans and bottles
from various tables.
Masculine laughter rose from the corner, but she refused to turn around no matter how much the deep, rolling baritone seemed to ripple through her. Her marriage to Martin might have been on the rocks well before she admitted it to herself but thinking about another man only a couple of months after she’d finally ended things was unseemly to say the least. She was just lonely, nothing more, and had sensed a similar emotion in Jack.
Since she’d been a little girl, Eliza collected waifs and strays, coming home with an array of lost kittens, upset classmates and random lone tourists she’d struck up conversations with on the busy promenade. Her mum had accepted them all with her usual brisk kindness. The kittens had been returned to their owners or handed over to the local rescue centre; her classmates fed and cossetted; the tourists treated to a friendly welcome and an evening of laughter and conversation in the bar.
This thing with Jack, not that it was a thing, of course, was just a variation on the same theme. She’d sensed a need in him and extended the hand of friendship. Chairs scraped on the wooden floor behind her as she lugged the full tray back behind the bar, and Eliza glanced around to catch Jack heading out the front door, a reluctant Bastian in tow. His gaze rose to meet hers and she couldn’t look away. Pops called out something to Jack, rescuing Eliza from making a fool of herself by staring too long. Jack broke their connection to laugh at whatever had been said, then slipped out the door with a wave.
Eliza kept busy behind the bar, emptying and restacking the dishwasher as Sam returned. Thankfully, a flurry of customers squeezing in one last drink on a work night meant the next half an hour passed quickly. Her mum come down to fetch her dad, grumbling good-naturedly about him abandoning her on their night off. Slinging an arm around her waist, Paul gave his wife a squeeze and whispered something in her ear which made her giggle and place a hand on his chest.
Summer at Lavender Bay Page 6