Much Ado About You

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Much Ado About You Page 18

by Samantha Young


  Silence settled over the three of us as Viola stared at me in shock.

  It was Caro who broke it with a sudden burst of clapping.

  We looked at her in confusion.

  “I’m sorry but that speech deserved a round of applause,” she explained.

  She was so adorable, I grinned at her.

  “Evie.”

  I turned to Viola. “Yeah?”

  Her smile was slow but genuine. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” I settled back in my seat, my thoughts immediately turning to Lucas yesterday. “And I have to tell you something.”

  She nodded for me to go ahead.

  I’d already told Caro about Tony’s visit yesterday, but I hadn’t mentioned the rumors about my inflated book prices. After I related what Tony had told me, I explained I’d gone to The Alnster Inn to see if there was any truth in it. “I’ll never understand how a relationship ending thirty years ago can still resonate with an entire village, but it does. To the point that some old-timer at the bar brought it up.”

  Caro grimaced. “Because you’ve been seen at The Anchor.”

  “Right.” I shook my head at the insanity. “Anyway, something not nice was said by this old guy . . .” I paused. After everything Viola had just confessed, why would I want to remind her that there were people out there who saw her as less? Crap, I had not thought this through.

  Unfortunately, Viola understood as soon as I trailed off. “About me.”

  I nodded, mentally berating myself.

  Insensitive asshole that I was.

  “What happened?” Caro asked.

  I’d started this stupid story for a reason so . . . “Lucas reacted.”

  Viola tensed. “Lucas?”

  “He grabbed the guy, and basically threw him out of the pub.”

  Caro leaned toward me. “For insulting Vi?”

  “Yeah.”

  Viola shook her head, clearly confused. “Why would Lucas defend me?”

  “Not just defend you, Viola . . . he was physically shaking with anger.” I gave her a small, knowing smile. “Not the actions of someone indifferent or who dislikes you.”

  Viola scoffed. “Lucas hates me. We’ve been at war for a long time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of his dad.” She shrugged, a melancholy she couldn’t hide darkening her light hazel eyes. “We didn’t talk much as kids. We were in the same class, but we had different friends. Lucas stayed away from me because of his dad. When we were thirteen, we got paired up at school for a science project and I tried to befriend him. Lucas was funny and cute.” She twisted her lips in derision. “I wanted him to like me, despite the crap between my mam and his dad. He knocked back my offer of friendship. It was brutal. We’ve been at each other’s throats ever since. Then the cocky shit had to follow me to university, so sometimes I can’t even escape him there.”

  “He wanted to kill that old guy for what he said, Viola. I didn’t misunderstand his reaction and I’m not making it bigger than it was. He wanted to punch that guy’s lights out.” Okay, so I was meddling but I wasn’t lying.

  She shook her head in complete confusion. “Why?”

  I grinned at her. “You really can’t guess.”

  Viola guffawed. “You think Lucas likes me? Likes likes me?”

  “Yes,” Caro answered for me. “My goodness, Vi, watching you two at Market Day . . . well, it certainly looked like foreplay to me.”

  Both Viola and I stared in astonishment at Caro, with a surge of laughter bubbling out of me as Viola’s tawny cheeks took on a rosy hue. “Caro!” she cried, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

  Caro’s own cheeks flushed red, but she grinned as she shrugged. “I only speak the truth.”

  Then I lost it, laughing so hard I was practically cackling.

  “Oh, oh, you’re one to laugh, Evie Starling,” Viola said loudly, cutting through my laughter. “Every encounter you have with Roane is like foreplay.”

  “Vi, that’s my cousin,” Caro groaned.

  My laughter died as I mock glared at Viola. “Roane and I are just friends.”

  “Oh really?” Viola looked unconvinced.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “We’re as much friends as you and Lucas are not.”

  Her spine stiffened. Getting my point, she immediately turned to Caro with an abrupt subject change. “What are you going to do about Tony then?”

  Caro blinked rapidly, clearly discombobulated by the swift new direction of our conversation. “Well . . . I’m not sure.”

  “Do you want to work with him?”

  “We don’t know that’s what he wants to talk about.”

  I made a face. “It’s what he wants to talk about.”

  Caro lowered her gaze, picking at invisible lint on the new pair of jeans she’d bought yesterday. Although her silk blouse with its floppy bow at the neck was still somewhat conservative, it was sleeveless and she’d paired the top with jeans and red pumps. She wore her lovely hair down. Just that simple outfit and hairstyle change had transformed Caro, and she now appeared younger than her twenty-two years.

  “I have a meeting with my new financial adviser this week. I’ll know more then.”

  “Know more then . . . ?” I mused. “You have something in mind that you want to do?”

  “There’s this building in Alnwick that’s been up for sale for ages . . . it’s in the perfect location for a small bakery.”

  Excitement for her rushed through me. “Caro, that would be amazing.”

  “Starting my own business will be difficult. I read that sixty percent of all new businesses in the UK fail in their first year. But . . . I’d like to try.”

  “Caro Robson, Lady Boss.” Viola grinned at her. “I can absolutely see it.”

  “Robson?” I queried.

  She nodded, her little chin set with determination. “First order of business is to have my name legally changed back to Robson.”

  I wanted to high-five her so badly.

  “Caro Robson, Lady Boss indeed,” I agreed.

  She initially flushed but then I saw her blossom under the enthusiastic faith in her, and it was in that moment I realized I wouldn’t be there to see Caro open her business. To see her shine and grow and become a fabulous, independent woman.

  That thought hurt more than I could have imagined.

  * * *

  • • •

  The sun did not return to Alnster the next day, the rain continuing to fall but less heavily. The change from torrents to showers was enough to bring the tourists back. Caro had been out most of the day, busy with meetings with her adviser and such. She’d returned just as I was closing up shop, and the sweetheart made dinner for us both.

  Roane had texted me during the day to ask me to join him at the pub that evening, and I promised to do so. It was that promise that prevented me from diving into bed early. I was strangely exhausted for what hadn’t been a very busy day, and could only suppose it was the dreary weather.

  But I wanted to see Roane. We hadn’t spoken much since the weekend, and I missed him.

  It was ludicrous to miss someone I’d seen only days before, but it was also true.

  After shooting Greer a reply to her latest email, I changed my sweater but not my skinny jeans. Caro wasn’t in the mood to socialize and had opted to stay home and read, so I found myself heading up to The Anchor around eight o’clock by myself. Thankfully, it had finally stopped raining. The wet cobbles gleamed under the old-fashioned streetlights as I approached the pub, and I couldn’t help but take a photo of the square that made up the main hub of Main Street.

  Despite being too early for sunset, the sky was purple from a day of rainfall, and the lights, shadows, stone buildings, and those wrought-iron lamps made a great atmospheric s
hot for my Instagram.

  The pub wasn’t packed but it was still busy with diners as I stepped inside. My eyes immediately sought out the table by the fireplace, and sure enough, there was Roane, sitting and talking with Bobby. I knew Shadow would be at their feet.

  Roane was laughing at something Bobby said, his white teeth flashing against his dark beard and tan skin. One large hand rested on the table while his other clutched a pint of lager. I knew every scar and callus on those hands, because like his mouth, those hands drew far too much of my attention.

  When I thought of the future, as I had yesterday sitting with Caro and Viola, it left me breathless.

  My stepfather, Phil, had a friend who owned stables. Not long after he and Mom started dating, Phil took us there, and I got on a horse for the first and last time.

  Because I fell off it.

  I’d landed with such force, all the air went out of my lungs. I remember not knowing what was worse—the pain from the fall or the panic of not being able to breathe.

  The mere thought of leaving Roane Robson was akin to falling off that horse.

  Yet worse.

  Much, much worse.

  “You all right, Evie, lass?”

  I blinked to find Milly in front of me. I stared down at her as her face came into focus. “What?”

  She patted my arm and smiled reassuringly. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “What?” I shook my head, wondering if she’d said something prior to asking after my well-being.

  “Go.” She nodded her head to Roane and Bobby. “I’ll bring you over a cider.”

  “Okay.” I frowned, a little confused by our encounter. As I made my way through the tables toward Roane, he looked up and our eyes met.

  That disorientating feeling of thrill mixed with contentment hit me with more force than usual as I drew toward him. Sometimes it felt like we were two magnets, my south seeking his north.

  “Hey.” I smiled as I reached the table.

  Roane reached up to rub his hand along my lower back as he smiled warmly at me. “Evie.”

  It was something a boyfriend would do. Not a mere friend.

  But I didn’t care.

  I liked his strong hands on me.

  Much more than any mere friend should.

  “Evie.” Bobby grinned as he stood up. “I was just leaving.”

  “Was it something I said?”

  “No, no,” he hurried to reassure me. “I really do need to get home. See you tomorrow.” He nodded at Roane and then winked at me. “Night, lass.”

  At his abrupt departure, I slipped into the seat he’d vacated. Brows puckering as I reached down to pet a sleepy Shadow, I asked, “He really didn’t leave because of me?”

  Roane shook his head, his mouth curling up at the corners. “He’s just being a good husband. And a good friend.”

  “A good friend?”

  His smile was far too wicked and flirtatious. “Bobby knows I like having you to myself.”

  Oh, he really had to stop saying such things. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Right,” I practically squeaked.

  My friend laughed, a deep, rumbly, masculine knowing laugh that caused me to flush with sexual awareness.

  Thankfully, Milly appeared at that moment with my cider and asked me about the store. When she walked back to the bar, I turned the conversation away from the flirtatious tone it had developed. “Caro is thinking of opening a bakery?”

  Roane nodded. “Aye. There’s a lot to opening a business, but with the money her mum and dad left, even if the bakery failed, she’d be all right. Still, I think she should consider starting smaller—taking on orders for events like birthdays and such and seeing how that goes. If she builds up a strong enough reputation, then I don’t see why she shouldn’t consider opening up a bakery.”

  That made sense to me, and I told him so. Over an hour passed as we talked about Caro, the farm, the supposed rumor West had started about book prices. We talked about everything but our no-go areas—my mom, my future departure from Alnster, and the attraction between us that was growing hard to ignore.

  I was laughing at a story Roane was telling me about when he and Bobby were in Newcastle for Bobby’s bachelor party and Bobby had mistaken a real policewoman for a stripper.

  “That doesn’t happen in real life.” I shook my head, giggling.

  “I assure you it bloody does. He spent the night in the clink.”

  “Are you telling Bobby’s stag do story again, Roane Robson?” Hazel appeared beside us, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “You know he hates you telling that story.”

  “Only when you’re around.”

  “Wait, wait.” Milly hurried through the tables to join Hazel beside us. We looked up at the two women in bemusement. “Okay, now you’re good.” She nudged Hazel.

  Bobby’s wife removed her hand from her back. In it was a rolled-up piece of white fabric. She held it out to Roane. “A peace offering. For the other night when we were pestering you about your love life.”

  “Evie here was right.” Milly gave him an apologetic smile. “We’re going to leave you be from now on.”

  Roane and I shared a confused smile as he reached for the fabric. “Uh, thank you.”

  Unfortunately, I made the mistake of taking a gulp of cider just as Roane unrolled the cotton fabric to reveal a T-shirt.

  Printed across the front of the chest in bold large print were the words lady porn.

  Laughter exploded out of me and with it the cider in my mouth.

  It sprayed all down the front of the T-shirt as I began to choke in hysterics.

  Milly and Hazel burst into peals of laughter as Roane shook his head, shoulders shaking with his own laughter as he used the T-shirt to wipe the cider that had landed on his cheeks.

  I couldn’t even apologize, I was laughing too hard.

  Stumbling out of my chair, I wrapped both my arms around Milly and Hazel. My heroes.

  “You have to put it on.” I turned to Roane as I fumbled for the cell in my back pocket. “I need to take a photo for posterity.”

  Although his lips twitched with amusement, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

  I took hold of the shirt and pressed it against his shoulders. “This is Instagrammable material right here,” I teased.

  He eyed me for a few seconds. “You don’t think I’ll do it.”

  Of course I didn’t. What man would?

  Roane pushed back his chair, pulled the T-shirt over the top of the plain one he wore, and he leaned back, his arms by his sides. He raised one eyebrow as if to say, Well?

  Christ, I adored him.

  “Seriously?” I grinned, clutching my phone to my chest.

  “Why not?” He gestured to Milly and Hazel. “They went to the trouble and I’m never wearing it again, so you might as well take a picture now.”

  Practically humming with giddiness, I opened the camera and held it to Milly. “I want to be in it too.”

  She was still wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes as she took the phone. I lowered to my haunches beside Roane, one hand on his shoulder for balance as I grinned at the camera.

  It was only later, after Roane had taken off the silly shirt and said good night to me at the door to the store, that I looked up the photo on my phone to put it on Instagram. I was sitting in bed, still amused over the night’s events, when I opened the photo of us.

  The smile dropped from my face.

  Not because I was unhappy.

  But because I was stunned.

  While I beamed a bright smile toward the camera, Roane wasn’t even looking at Milly.

  His head was turned toward me, and the raw, open adoration in his expression was breathtaking.

  My eyes burned as I stared at th
e photo, unable to look away from him. No one had ever looked at me that way.

  No one.

  My chest suddenly felt tight, packed to the brim as it was with emotion.

  I couldn’t put that photo on Instagram.

  It was too personal.

  For my eyes only.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  Somehow, I knew that photo had changed everything.

  Sixteen

  As I handed money to Milly for my breakfast, I reminded her to thank Dex for the delicious omelet I’d just enjoyed.

  “Will do, lass.” She eyed me speculatively as she handed over my receipt. “Heard you’re spending the day at Roane’s farm?”

  I was no longer surprised by other people knowing my business. It really did come with the territory of living in a tiny village. “Yeah, he’s picking me up.”

  For almost two weeks I’d avoided spending time alone with Roane while I tried to get a handle on my emotions. However, he’d finally invited me out to his farm. It was two Sundays after the infamous lady porn photo, and despite my attempts to cajole Caro into joining us, I was going to be alone with Roane.

  All day.

  Caro had seen the farm. She wasn’t interested. Truthfully, I think she just didn’t want to be a third wheel.

  Great.

  “Enjoy that.” Milly winked at me.

  Over the past few weeks, the winks, hints, and innuendos about my friendship with Roane had increased to the point it was like water off a duck’s back for both of us. It felt like the entire patronage of The Anchor was willing me to jump Roane Robson’s bones. Belly fluttering at the mere thought, I waved goodbye and headed outside to the parking lot, where Roane said he’d collect me.

 

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