Page 11 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

‘All hot and bothered. You were blushing.’

‘No, I wasn’t.’

‘OK.’ Bligh laughed. ‘Have it your way.’

Thomas feigned interest in his phone and Bligh fell silent, but when he peered at him over the screen, his brother-in-law was smiling broadly as if he knew something Thomas didn’t. Helowered his gaze to his phone and decided to ignore whatever it was that Bligh was laughing about. Bligh had a heart of gold, but he was also a massive tease and when he got an idea in his head it was hard to dissuade him from it.

‘How about something like this?’ Thomas said, placing his phone on the table in front of Bligh. He’d searched for leg tattoos and found something that he thought he might like to have done.

‘Yeah, I like that. I could do that for you but with some tweaks to make it unique.’

‘Food for thought,’ Thomas said, a sense of hope stirring in his gut. The idea of having something he wanted on his leg instead of the ugly red scars was liberating and definitely something he’d like to look into going forwards.

When Pearl served them their breakfasts, they talked some more about the tattoo ideas and Thomas realised it was probably one of the best ideas Bligh had ever had. And while they ate, he tried not to notice that Lena was sitting at the window seat on the green leather sofa and that she glanced over at him every so often as if keen to catch his eye. She was sitting alone, and he wondered if she knew anyone else in the village yet. He didn’t like to see people eating alone, especially not beautiful women like Lena. She might not be such a bad person after all, as Bligh had suggested, and perhaps he’d been wrong to judge her so quickly.

But what did he know? He’d trusted people before and look where it had got him. He shook himself inwardly then returned his focus to Bligh and their tattoo search, keen to forget about the way Lena had looked into his eyes. Keen to forget about the way he had responded to her as if there was already a connection between them, and as if something inside him recognisedsomething in her. He blamed Marnie for making him watch all those romance movies. It was turning him soft, and he needed to get a grip or he’d be as soppy as his pregnant sister soon and what good would that do him?

Thomas had his reasons for needing to stay strong and he would do whatever was necessary to stay that way. There was no room for a vulnerable heart in his life — not his or someone else’s. None. Not now and not ever.

But as he bit into his bacon sandwich, he wondered exactly who he was trying to convince. What if there was another way to live?

7

LENA

After she left the café, Lena went back to her rental cottage and made a cup of ginger tea then stood in the lounge admiring the view. It was a beautiful May day with a bright blue sky and a fresh breeze. The sun streamed through the window and warmed the floorboards of the lounge and her feet in their newly gifted socks. Cradling the mug against her chest, she watched as a family played on the beach. From here, they were small as dolls, but she could make out a man, a woman and two young children, along with a tall slim black dog that she thought might be a greyhound. What a wonderful place to raise children this must be, she thought. Of course, the family could be on holiday and perhaps they didn’t live here. However, for some, living in this incredible part of the world, falling in love and raising a family here would be very special indeed. Perhaps it was because she’d always wondered if she could have a family that she found herself yearning for motherhood. She suspected the thought that it might never happen, might not be possible, had made her think about it more. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on it, not often, but when it crept into her consciousness, her heart ached, and her belly felt empty. It could be because she had known the joy of finding herself in a hopeful position thatshe knew how it was to experience the pain of having her hopes dashed like shells against the rocks.

Sipping her tea, she savoured the tingle of the ginger as it touched her lips then her tongue. She felt relaxed and refreshed after the sunrise yoga and her breakfast at the café — fresh fruit salad and a cinnamon bun — and she had enjoyed seeing Pearl and her granddaughter, Ellie, again. They were lovely people, and she hoped to get to know them better. And then there had been Thomas Dryden with his dark looks and brooding demeanour. He could easily have been cast as the male lead in a historical series set in Cornwall with those rugged good looks and that intriguing scar on his face. He was striking looking and mysterious, just like she’d imagine the perfect male hero in a romance novel to be. In fact, she could base her male hero on him and that would be a good starting point for her characterisation. What was it that made him so guarded, so sullen, so hot? So Heathcliff meets Johnny Depp meets Joe Wicks.

Wait! What?

Hot? Thomas Dryden?

Yes! Sooooo hot…

A smile played on her lips as she gazed out at the beach, the cliffs and the harbour, watching as people milled around, going about their business oblivious to the fact they were being observed. It was comforting being in this beautiful cottage in this picturesque location. Something about the proximity to the water soothed her.

Her thoughts strayed again to romance. How long had it been since she’d been attracted to a man? A very long time. And nowshe was in a new place and had encountered a man who seemed to dislike her, if she was being completely honest with herself, and yet she found him attractive. It was not at all fair, because he seemed so shut down and aloof, and even when she’d tried to befriend him, he’d shunned her.

‘Better forget about that one, hun,’ she said to herself, settling on the deep window seat and tucking her legs underneath her.

But even as she tried to focus on the view, to count the boats in the harbour and the people on the beach, she found herself thinking about how it had felt when he’d massaged her foot. He’d been happy to help, had taken her foot in his large hands and rubbed at the arch and along her toes, and eased the pain and discomfort. His hands had been warm against her skin, his touch firm and assured, and she had found herself wishing she could move closer to him and curl up in his lap. What was that about? He was a virtual stranger but there was just something about him that she was drawn to, almost like she’d known him in another life if she was being romantic about it now. His cold façade had cracked when he’d helped her and she was sure there must be a reason why he acted so hard and withdrawn, a reason why his eyes held such a wounded and wary look. Wounded animals became wary, and it was no different with human beings. There was something about Thomas that suggested he carried wounds. He certainly had at least one scar that she knew about from the car accident, but was there more to what had happened to him?

She finished her tea then reached for her laptop that she’d tucked on a shelf next to the window seat, turned it on then started to type. As the words flooded the page, it was Thomas Dryden’s handsome face that filled her mind, along with the memory of his touch and the way it had made her feel. Alongwith her concerns for his welfare and for what had made him so wary.

8

THOMAS

‘What can I help with?’ Thomas asked Bligh in the kitchen.

‘You can peel the potatoes.’ Bligh pointed at the colander of potatoes sitting on the kitchen island.

‘No problem.’ Thomas picked up the potato peeler and got to work. He’d arrived at his sister and brother-in-law’s ten minutes ago. Bligh was in the kitchen making Sunday dinner and Marnie was in the lounge reading with the girls. ‘What’s today’s book?’

‘Sorry?’ Bligh looked up from the carrots he was chopping.

‘What are Wendy and Winnie reading today?’

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