could do with a wash,’ he said and Charlie looked at him with the scorn he obviously deserved.
‘You’re suggesting we undo that nice white bandage, take her away from the fire and dump her in a tub.’
Flossie was looking at him, too, and the reproach in both their eyes...
Once again he had that urge to chuckle. Which felt good. Bryn Morgan hadn’t chuckled in a long time.
He rubbed Flossie behind the ears. With the thunderstorm receding to a distant rumble, the complete doggy tribe was in the kitchen, nosing around with interest. A couple edged in for an ear-rub as well and suddenly he had a line-up.
‘You can’t pat one without patting all of them,’ Charlie said serenely and once again he heard that chuckle.
It was a gorgeous chuckle. It made him...
Um, not. He had enough complications on his plate without going there. What was in front of him now?
He was sitting on faded kitchen linoleum before an ancient range, vintage kerosene lamps throwing out inefficient light but enough to show the raggle-taggle line-up of misbegotten mutts waiting to have their ears rubbed. While a woman watched on and smiled. While outside...
Um...outside. You could buy a house for the price of the car he’d been driving. How was he going to explain that one?
‘I have a good, thick soup on the stove,’ Charlie said, interrupting thoughts of irate bankruptcy trustees and debt collectors and car salesmen who still hardly believed in his innocence.
He focussed on the dogs instead. Would there be jealousy if he spent say one and a half minutes on Dog One and then two on Dog Two? He decided not to risk it and checked his watch. Charlie noticed and smiled.
‘Do you have overnight gear in the car?’ she asked. ‘I could lend you an umbrella.’
That hauled him back to the practical. Overnight. Of course. He was genuinely stuck here. There were all sorts of problems he should be facing rather than how many seconds he’d been rubbing Dog One.
One of those was where his overnight gear was right now.
‘You have a spare bed?’ he asked, cautiously.
‘I do. I’ll put you at the back of the house to give you a little peace because the dogs sleep with me. Except Possum. She usually sleeps by the back door. She’s my guard dog but if there’s any more lightning she’ll be in with me. And Flossie will definitely be with me.’
‘You’ll sleep with Flossie?’ She really was filthy.
‘I’m sure it’s good, clean dirt,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And I can’t tell you how much I’ve worried about her. If I had half a kingdom I’d hand it to you right now.’
‘Do you have a spare toothbrush instead?’
She blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘I’m a bit averse to lightning,’ he confessed. ‘I’m happy for my overnight gear to stay where it is.’ Wherever that was. Under one enormous tree.
He should tell her, he thought, but she was pale enough already and the knowledge that he’d been two seconds from climbing into the car and being pancaked was something she didn’t need to hear about tonight.
He didn’t want to think about it tonight.
‘I do have a spare toothbrush,’ she told him. ‘I was at a conference in a gorgeous hotel...some time ago...’ In another life. Moving on... ‘The free toothbrush was so beautifully packaged I stuck it in my toilet bag. If you don’t mind pink sparkle, it’s yours.
‘You’d give up pink sparkle for me?’
‘I said you deserve half my kingdom,’ she said and she was suddenly solemn. ‘I mean it.’
‘Then let’s go with one toothbrush, one bowl of soup and a bed for the night,’ he told her. ‘I’ll ask for nothing more.’
‘Excellent,’ she said and shifted across to help with the ear scratching. ‘Soup and toothbrush and I don’t know about you but I’m thinking bed’s next on the agenda.’
Her arm brushed his and with the touch... Things changed.
The tension was suddenly almost palpable. Were both of them thinking the same?
‘In your dreams,’ she said, sounding breathless.
Of all the stupid... Were the tensions between them so obvious? And she caught it. ‘I didn’t mean...you know I didn’t mean...’ she stammered.
‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he said, blankly, but he was lying.
‘Yes, you were.’
‘If I was, I shouldn’t have.’
‘I know nothing about you,’ she said and then caught herself. ‘But even if I did...’
‘I’m a farmer from the UK,’ he told her, feeling a sudden urge to explain himself. Get things on a solid basis. ‘Thirty-five years old, here on family business. I’m heading back to London tomorrow.’
‘It still doesn’t mean I’m going to bed with you.’
‘Of course it doesn’t.’ He managed a lopsided smile. What was it about the night that was making things so off kilter? ‘Maybe electrical storms act like oysters,’ he tried. ‘But we’re grown-ups now. We can handle it.’
‘Yeah,’ she said but sounded doubtful.
‘So let’s do introductions only,’ he said, trying to sound firm. ‘We’ll get this on a solid basis. Not as a preamble to anything else. Just to clear the air.’ More, he didn’t want to make it complicated. Keep it simple, he told himself, and did. ‘I’ve said I’m a farmer. I live a couple of miles from the Welsh border and I’ve been out here because my uncle’s...’
That brought him up. How to explain Thomas? He couldn’t. Not tonight. Hopefully not ever. He didn’t even want to think of Thomas. ‘My uncle’s been living locally for a while,’ he said at last. ‘He’s moved on, but I needed to deal with things he left behind. But it’s done now. What about you?’
She looked at him doubtfully, as if she wasn’t sure who he was and what on earth was happening. Which was pretty much how he was feeling. Tensions were zinging back and forth that had nothing to do with the lightning outside. Or maybe they did. Electricity did all sorts of weird things.
Like make him want...
Or not.
‘I’m an interior designer,’ she said at last. ‘I had... I have my own business in Melbourne. But right now I’m babysitting seven dogs, two cows and fifteen chooks, trying to find them homes. Waiting for a miracle, which is not going to happen. Meanwhile, Mr Morgan, I have things to do, and not a single one of them involves thinking inappropriate thoughts about anyone, much less you. So you get these ears scratched and I’ll get the soup on and we’ll
