Heart lifting with pleasure at witnessing the sweet moment between her parents, Eliza caught Sam’s eye and they shared a grin. They’d grown up in a demonstrative household and it was good to see the pair of them looking so relaxed after months of tension caused by her dad’s illness. The chronic lung disease would always see him weaker than the robust man of her memories, but the warm, dry weather seemed to be agreeing with him. Arm in arm, they left the pub to escort Pops on his walk back up to Baycrest—the retirement home situated at the top end of the promenade.
A quick check of her watch told her it was a few minutes before nine. She placed a hand on Sam’s back as he leant down restocking one of the fridges. ‘Leave that, I can handle things from here.’
He did his own automatic time check, then straightened up. ‘If you’re sure? Beth’s got me hooked on this new detective drama, so I can probably make it round there before it starts.’
His eyes drifted over her shoulder, checking on the number of customers left in the pub, and she nudged him. ‘Go on, I’ll be fine. Give her my love and tell her I’ll pop in tomorrow for a cuppa before I start my shift, I want to borrow Eleanor’s old sewing machine.’ Hers had gone into one of the shipping crates bound for Abu Dhabi so there was no chance of seeing it anytime soon.
Sam waggled his eyebrows. ‘You going to tell her all about your new friend?’
‘Oh, shut up, before I change my mind and make you stay for last orders.’ That got him moving.
Last orders came and went with little ceremony, and the place was empty a good ten minutes before their official closing time of 10 p.m. Eliza was just reaching for the top bolt on the front door when it swung open and her parents strolled in. They looked starry-eyed and Eliza tried not to notice how the back of her dad’s hair stood on end, or the red fullness of her mum’s lips. ‘Enjoy your walk?’
They exchanged a knowing look, causing Eliza to roll her eyes. She bet Sam and Beth were cosied up on the sofa in her flat above the emporium and smooching more than they were watching the television. Even at the height of their marriage, Martin had never been one for outward displays of affection, and it had taken her a long time to stop expecting him to reach for her hand when they walked anywhere together. For a good six months before she’d finally left, he’d not even come to bed at the same time as her—always too busy with the latest online game he’d been addicted to. Well, whatever, that was all in the past now.
Her dad reached up to slide the door bolts into place, then turned to Eliza. ‘I told Jack I’d call up at the farm just after nine tomorrow. Pops decided to invite himself along, so I’ll take the car. We should be back by lunchtime.’
‘Oh, I was going to take a trip to the Cash and Carry first thing. We’re running low on a few snacks and I need to pick up some salad and veg. I also need to get some material. As soon as I get my hands on Eleanor’s sewing machine I want to get cracking.’ She tried not to notice the pointed look her parents shared. They’d greeted her new business venture with lukewarm enthusiasm, although she’d promised to fit the work in around shifts at the pub to make sure she was pulling her weight.
Jack turning her down flat had put a damper on the beauty products side of things, but she was determined to get a few skirts and dresses on display in the emporium as soon as possible. If she could prove to them she could sell her stuff it would give her a bit of breathing room whilst she rethought the supply issue for her soap-making.
Her dad shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Can you drop us off on your way instead, and I’ll ring when we’re done?’ When she nodded, he continued. ‘And I suppose we ought to have a discussion at our next family sit down about getting a second car.’ In order to keep things running smoothly, they were getting together every Sunday afternoon to talk over how things had been and plan out the week to come.
Beth had been added after the first week, to make sure she had the support she needed to keep on top of everything with the emporium, and to keep her in the loop with Sam’s new restaurant project. Juggling four businesses—even if one of them was still more dream than reality—was going to take a lot of patience and planning, and it wasn’t only Eliza who was aware of the need to protect Sam and Beth’s fledgling relationship.
They’d work it out though, she thought as she puttered around the bar finishing the evening cleardown. Much as her parents went on about retiring, her mum still held sway over the kitchen and her dad looked after the books. Sam seemed content to fill in wherever he was needed, his focus more and more turned to Subterranean now the revised plans had been finalised. Eliza could be as flexible as needed to fit around the others’ schedules, but she was determined to make a go of things. She’d put her dreams on hold for far too long and this was finally her time to do something that was one hundred per cent by and for herself.
Gathering the cloths they’d used throughout the shift for wiping up, as well as the towelling mats that protected the top of the bar from the worst spills, Eliza gave the room a final onceover then switched off the lights and headed upstairs. What had started out as a horrible day had turned out pretty damn good in the end. With her dad clearly feeling better about himself, she could only hope things would continue to improve. She crossed her fingers and uttered a silent wish that Jack’s good mood from that evening would carry over into the morning.
It was another fine, bright day, the air already heavy with the promise of the heat to come as Eliza held the passenger door open so Pops could ease himself into the car. Her dad already perched in the back, a grin of anticipation on his face. He’d loaded his enormous toolbox into the boot with as much relish as a kid going off on a picnic or some other treat. She watched Pops wrestle with the mechanism for his seatbelt, his once agile fingers twisted with age and arthritis, and winced. ‘Do you need a hand with that?’ she asked, crouching beside him.
‘I’m not completely bloody useless, girl,’ Pops grumbled as he finally managed to click the tab into the lock.
‘Not completely, Pops, just mostly.’ Her dad’s dry rejoinder was greeted with a snort somewhere between indignation and humour, and Eliza had to bite her lip to hide a smile as she closed the door before moving around to her side of the car.
Having dropped her handbag in the seat well next to Pops’ feet, she reached down for the adjuster handle and dragged her seat forwards until she could reach the pedals. It was already warm, so she started the engine and cranked the air blowers to their highest setting. A quick fiddle with the mirror brought it into eyeline, and she caught a wink from her dad which she returned with a smile. Finally ready to go, she settled her own belt across her body, adjusting the stiff black material so it didn’t wedge itself between her breasts.
What passed for weekday rush hour in Lavender Bay was still in full force, meaning they had to wait behind three cars at the main roundabout. It was always busy at weekends during high season as holidaymakers came and went, but on a sunny day like this, the majority of visitors stuck close to the beach. Which would mean another busy lunchtime shift for the pub, no doubt.
‘Turn left here.’ Eliza bit her lip at the unnecessary instruction from Pops but didn’t say anything as she took the road which led up the hill through town towards the farm. The radio was tuned to a news station, and she rolled her eyes at the irate caller ranting about national sovereignty as she flipped the control on the steering wheel to switch to a music station.
‘Hey, I was listening to that,’ Pops protested.
‘No politics when I’m driving, Pops, that’s the rule.’ Eliza paused at a cross roads before turning right and then almost immediately left onto the dirt road which led to the farm.
‘But I like a nice phone-in,’ he muttered.
Her dad barked a laugh. ‘There’s nothing nice about phone-ins, just a load of ignorant people shouting at each other. Give me a bit of Radio Two any day.’
Eliza had to agree with him, which made her feel about a hundred years old, or at least as though she was heading for early
middle-age. The radio in the kitchen at the pub was perpetually tuned to that station, and she much preferred the mix of new music with old classics she’d grown up listening to. She crested the rise, the sight of the farm buildings arrayed before them distracting her from the good-natured debate still ongoing between her dad and Pops. An old Land Rover was parked in front of the farmhouse, and she parked behind it.
She didn’t have time to get her belt unfastened before the front door opened, and Jack’s broad shoulders filled the frame. He had a T-shirt on this time, which should’ve been better, but the way the material clung to his upper body only served to bring a flood of images of him naked to the waist into her mind. Hiding her blush behind a thick curtain of hair, she took her time sorting her handbag out, which gave the men time to get out of the car and greet Jack.
He didn’t seem to mind that Pops had tagged along from the warm greeting they exchanged. She watched Jack usher them over the threshold with directions towards the kitchen, noting the easy way he relieved her dad of his heavy toolbox. When she didn’t follow them through, Jack raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘You not staying?’
Wondering why she’d got out of the car, she fiddled with the strap of her bag. ‘No, I’ve got errands to run and then I need to help Mum with lunch prep before we open up. Dad’s going to give me a call later for a pick-up.’ She tossed her stupid bag onto the passenger seat, feeling more awkward than she had since her early teens. ‘I hope they won’t outstay their welcome.’
Jack smiled. ‘I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. No grumping and complaining.’
Oh, goodness, that wasn’t what she’d meant at all. ‘I didn’t…’ Flustered, she cut herself off when his smile stretched into a grin. He’d only been teasing, and she was making an absolute fool of herself. ‘Well, I’d better leave you to it…’
‘You’re sure you can’t stay? I was going to offer you a tour around the place, a bit of a peace offering. We’ve got some samples in the distillery, I was going to give you some to help with your soap-making and whatever.’ Jack tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, his eyes flicking from her face to the stones his foot was scuffing through on the driveway.
Touched by the thoughtful offer, Eliza relaxed. ‘That’s really kind of you, but you don’t have to. It was my own presumption that got us in this mess in the first place.’
He scoffed a little. ‘Nothing presumptuous about expecting a lavender farm to sell bloody lavender.’
She laughed. ‘No, I suppose you’re right.’ She couldn’t help but glance around. It would’ve been fascinating to stay and find out how everything worked. And the chance to spend a bit more time in his company wasn’t the worst idea, either. ‘I’m sorry to miss the tour, but I really should go…’
‘Another time, perhaps? Things will be pretty quiet around here for the next couple of weeks until harvest. If you let me know a date that works for you, I can adjust my schedule accordingly.’ He seemed sincere, and if his first offer had been a gesture made for politeness’ sake, there would be no reason for him to repeat it.
‘Wednesday is my day off,’ she found herself saying. She’d been planning to spend the day at the sewing machine, but a couple of hours wouldn’t do any harm. She might even be able to take a few photos while she was there to post on her new Instagram account.
‘Great. Shall we make it the same time then?’ He glanced over his shoulder then back to her. ‘If your dad comes through and helps me fix the tractor, I’ll take you out for a ride in it if you fancy, give you the authentic farm experience.’
She tried to recall what she’d seen of the vehicle. It hadn’t seemed that big, so they’d probably be squeezed in tight together in the cab. Just the thought of it sent her pulse racing. Stop it, Eliza! ‘Wow, you sure know how to show a girl a good time, by the sounds of it.’
Her attempted joke didn’t just fall flat, it poisoned the atmosphere between them, as unwelcome and embarrassing as a fart in a lift. Jack’s open expression grew shuttered, and he hunched his shoulders. ‘It was just an idea, and you’d get a better view from being higher up, but we can take the Land Rover.’
‘Oh no, the tractor sounds great fun, I was kidding.’ She followed his gaze down to where she’d inadvertently clutched his forearm. The crisp, dark hair on his skin tickled her palm as the muscle flexed beneath her fingers. Mortified, she released him quicker than a hot coal, took a couple of stumbling steps backwards and all but jumped back into the car. ‘Right then, places to go, people to see and all that.’ Just stop talking, woman!
Grinding the gears so badly it was a miracle she didn’t leave half the transmission on the driveway, Eliza drove off before she made things any worse. Not that she was sure it was possible. A quick glance in the rear-view mirror showed Jack still outlined in the doorway, and she cringed. He must think her mad. Catching sight of her own flushed reflection, Eliza sighed. He wouldn’t be far wrong.
Chapter Six
‘I’ll take you for a ride on my tractor, what kind of a line is that?’ Jack muttered to himself in disgust as he stomped across the hallway towards the kitchen. No wonder Eliza had practically burnt rubber in her efforts to get away from him. A delicate woman like her wouldn’t want to be bouncing around in a dirty farm vehicle. Even dressed casually like she was that morning, she was still a vision of soft draping material and pastel shades. It didn’t quite tie up with the funny, feisty woman who ran the bar in The Siren so efficiently. He recalled watching her lug a plastic crate full of glasses across the bar, the alluring sight of her bottom perfectly outlined by the fitted dress she’d worn that night. Whilst he’d appreciated the sexy, confident woman she’d been in the pub, the sweeter, slightly shier version who’d just driven away appealed to something inside him and he wondered which version of Eliza was the true one.
Well, there was nothing to be done for now other than to concentrate on his guests and see which Eliza showed up on Wednesday. Assuming she actually intended to come back and hadn’t just been too polite to refuse his offer to his face. Pushing the intriguing thoughts about Eliza away, Jack entered the kitchen to find Paul Barnes and his dad seated at the table each with a steaming mug before them. ‘We helped ourselves to a cuppa, lad, and made one for you whilst we were at it,’ the elder Mr Barnes said. ‘Didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘Not at all, I should’ve been here to make it for you. There’s some biscuits in the tin if you want one.’ Bastian’s ears pricked at the sound of the metal lid being pried open, and Jack pointed at him. ‘None for you, get back in your basket and leave poor Mr Barnes in peace for five minutes.’ The dog gave him a look which plainly said Jack was wasting his breath. Bastian knew a soft touch when he saw one, and he’d had Jack wrapped around his paw since day one.
Paul glanced up, his hand still playing gently with the dog’s ears. ‘He’s no bother; don’t trouble yourself on my account. And Mr Barnes makes me feel old as the hills, so please call me Paul.’
Jack nodded as he pulled out a chair to sit next to him. ‘Thanks. And thanks again for agreeing to come over here today. Mum’s off seeing a friend this morning, so we’ll have to fend for ourselves.’
Pops helped himself to a second chocolate digestive before putting the lid back on the tin. ‘Why is it the things that are so bad for you taste so bloody good?’ He dunked the biscuit in his tea, then bit half of it.
‘Don’t mind Pops. You’d think he’s barely housetrained until you see him out on the terrace surrounded by his lady friends up at Baycrest.’ Paul winked at Jack.
‘There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the company of a fine woman, son.’ Pops turned his attention to Jack, a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. ‘What about you, lad? Are you keeping company with a fine woman?’
Jack all but choked on his tea. Pops might be a bit long in the tooth, but it had occurred to Jack last night while chatting to him that only a fool would underestimate the sharpness of the mind lurking behind his wrinkles and greying
hair. ‘No time for women, I’m afraid, fine or otherwise.’
Pops shook his head. ‘That’s no way to live, lad. A life unshared is one only half-lived. You’re not a bad looking boy, and a hard-worker if this place is anything to go by. Any woman would be glad to be on your arm. Take our Eliza, for instance…’
Oh, Jesus Christ! What was he supposed to say to that?
Luckily Paul saved him the trouble from responding. ‘Pops!’ He fixed his father with a stern frown. ‘Don’t start bloody stirring things up. The poor girl needs a break after everything she’s been through.’ His eyes flicked to Jack. ‘No offence, Jack.’
‘None taken.’ He’d not been lying when he’d told Pops he didn’t have time for a woman in his life. Hadn’t he had that exact thought only the night before? Between the farm and taking care of Noah, there weren’t enough hours in the day. What kind of woman in her right mind would be happy to see him maybe one evening a week? And as soon as the harvest kicked in, it’d be less than that. That’s why he kept things short and sweet—that and a bone-deep fear of ending up with completely the wrong woman the same way Jason had done.
Just thinking about his brother was enough to lay him low. The pressure of his grief lurked in his mind like a constant headache. Embarking on anything that might stir up one type of emotion would inevitably lead to the intrusion of others. And he simply didn’t have the time to fall apart, not with everyone counting on him.
Besides, even if he had been interested in Eliza, it sounded like she’d been having a hard time of it herself. He wanted to dig for information, not liking the idea someone might have hurt her, but forced himself to drain his tea and rise from the table. It wasn’t his business; she wasn’t his business and he needed to remember that.
So, why had he invited her for a tour of the farm? His initial reaction to her was much more in keeping with his general feelings about his home. He didn’t want strangers poking about, had never liked people around who weren’t part of the family. And yet here he was sipping tea with her father and grandfather. If he didn’t watch out, she’d crack his defences wide open.
Summer at Lavender Bay Page 7