The Butterfly Cove Collection. Sarah Bennett. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sarah Bennett
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008293512
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night. Feeling awkward, although they’d done nothing more than sleep together, she inched out of the bed and slid to the floor in a crouch. Not wanting to risk waking him, she collected her jeans and tiptoed towards the door.

      An errant floorboard creaked beneath her foot and she stopped, one leg raised like Wile E. Coyote trying to sneak up on the Road Runner. Daniel snuffled, rolled on his side and thankfully went back to sleep. A huge snore rent the air and she used the sound to cover the low click when she opened the bedroom door. Taking care to stay quiet, she scurried down the stairs and closed the kitchen door behind her with a sigh of relief.

      Cold tiles nipped at her toes, so she scrambled into her jeans and stuffed her feet into her cosy boots. A quick peek through the kitchen window showed the first pink-red streaks of a dawn that promised a fine day. She made a cup of tea, poured it into a travel mug. Bright it might be, but the air still held a sharp nip so she bundled up in her coat and a hat and carried her drink outside.

      Overgrown shrubs and bushes formed strange shapes in the early-morning light. She picked her way carefully towards the steps leading to the beach to avoid any brambles waiting to snare an unwitting foot. She could hear the sea before she saw it, the dark water merging too closely with the sand to make out. It was close to high tide, so she chose a spot up near the small dunes edging the beach and sat with her legs crossed.

      Pale pinks, soft oranges and a deeper red striped across the grey sky, the colours brightening with each passing minute. The ocean grew visible next, leaving lines of foamy bubbles to be swallowed up by the next rolling waves. Clouds seemed to boil from the horizon, edged in crimson and shades of fuchsia. Letting the wonder of nature fill her eyes, Mia sipped her tea and gathered her thoughts.

      Sneaking away from Daniel’s bed seemed a bit cowardly and she hoped he wouldn’t be offended to find her gone when he woke. From a safe distance, she could admit to herself it hadn’t only been guilty feelings over Jamie that had driven her from the warmth of the sheets. Being next to Daniel had felt right and it scared her. After Jamie, she’d never thought she might care for another man again, and she wasn’t quite ready to let Jamie go.

      Sunday mornings had been her favourite part of the week. Long, lazy hours spent reading the papers, grazing over breakfast and snuggling back down for sweet caresses. They’d grown up together, first and only lovers, finding their way around each other’s bodies until they knew every spot to draw a gasp or a sigh.

      What would it be like to let someone else that close? What if she didn’t like the way Daniel touched her, what if he proved a better lover than Jamie? She wasn’t sure which would be worse. Stop it. Stop it. There was no point in torturing herself over things that might not even come to pass.

      The pale disc of the sun crested the horizon, chasing away the blaze of colours into the pale blue of full morning. A chill crept into her bones from the damp sand, soaking through the layers of her coat. Not quite willing to drag herself away from the view, Mia raised the cup to her lips, surprised to find it empty. Seagulls swooped and danced in the sky overhead, their raucous cries breaking the silence. A shiver ran through her, the cold striking deep enough to force her into motion.

      She needed to call her dad, finish their conversation from the previous night, and Madeline and Richard would be along soon as well. Time wouldn’t stop for her; she knew from bitter experience that life went on whether she was ready for it or not. Things changed and a new direction lay open before her.

      Daniel was a fixture in her life now and she couldn’t imagine living here at Butterfly Cove without the sound of his deep voice calling down the hall to her. His warm presence at her table had become a necessity, making her smile as he scoffed down whatever meal she put before him with the same alacrity and gratitude whether it be a ham sandwich or a full Sunday roast. His plans for the barn were exciting too; nothing she would have ever thought of herself. She scrambled up, eager to see the place from the new perspective he’d given her.

      The door to the kitchen creaked, drawing her attention towards it, and she waved Daniel into the room when he stuck his head through the gap. She turned her attention back to the phone. It was still early, but her dad liked to get to his office before students started knocking and ruining his train of thought. She pictured him behind the big oak desk, which would be covered with precarious stacks of papers and books. His study at home had been worse, a no-go zone for them as girls in case they made a mess of the filing system only he seemed to understand.

      ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said again, sounding thoroughly miserable. Always more comfortable in the past than the present, the dusty remains of long-dead poets and scholars were his purview.

      She sighed, knowing it was hopeless to wish for anything different. George Thorpe was too set in his ways to change. ‘I know, Dad. It was just that the mention of the Royal Brook caught me off guard. I haven’t been there since the accident.’ She swallowed hard and continued briskly. ‘Stupid little things like that set me off, but I’m okay.’

      Silence greeted her and she could imagine him rubbing the lenses of his glasses on the front of his jumper as he tried to find something to say. ‘I didn’t think,’ he managed in the end, sounding forlorn, like a small boy scolded for some foolish transgression.

      ‘Forget it, Dad.’

      ‘I can see why visiting your mother would be hard. They’re taking very good care of her and it would be more useful to both of us if you saved your trip until she comes home.’

      Mia sagged against the wall in relief. ‘And you’ll postpone your dinner?’

      ‘Oh, yes. Good job you reminded me. I’ll send the email now.’ She heard the clattering of his fingers on a keyboard.

      ‘All right. Will I call you in a few days then?’

      ‘Yes. Fine.’ He hesitated, then cleared his throat. ‘You’re a good girl, Eunomia. I’m not sure I ever told you that enough.’ Surprised how choked up she felt over his comment, Mia rang off.

      She’d been half aware of Daniel moving around in the room behind her, but now she stared at the phone in her hand, not quite sure how to approach him. He saved her the trouble, turning her to face him with a gentle hand on her shoulder. He brushed a quick kiss against her temple.

      Turning back towards the table, he took his customary seat and she could see he’d laid everything out for breakfast. She watched him pour tea into the mug in front of him then unfold the morning paper he must have retrieved from the front doormat. He looked at home. As it should be.

      ***

      The next weekend dawned fine and dry and Daniel was grateful for the respite from the recent rain. He waited at the station, memories of his own journey down from London playing through his head. He wondered again what would have happened to him had Madeline not been in the same carriage as him. He shuddered to think at where he might have ended up, and scrolled through his phone to his browser to look for a local florist.

      He found a number for one in the main town and racked his brain for Madeline’s address. Luckily the florist was the same one that Richard used and he was apparently a huge romantic as he had an account with them. The florist even gave Daniel some advice on which were Madeline’s favourite flowers.

      On a whim, he ordered a dozen roses for Mia, and settled on mixed shades of pink after another helpful hint from the florist. White or cream was for weddings only and red was such a cliché, apparently. They’d been taking things steady since the night of her breakdown, nothing they couldn’t back away from, but a few tentative steps closer to the intimacy he grew ever more certain he wanted. He craved every connection with her. Nothing major, nothing they couldn’t walk back from without hurting each other. Simple things like when she’d rested her feet in his lap while they watched a film one evening. The peck on the cheek they used to greet each other in the mornings now.

      Daniel reeled off his credit card details as the train approached. He thanked the florist as he raised his hand in greeting when he saw Aaron and Luke step onto the platform. He grinned and returned the bear hug from Aaron and shook hands with Luke.

      ‘You