Page 34 of Raising the Sun

“Good, good.” With a light tap on my cheek, she stepped back, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. “We were out for a drive and thought we’d pop by, see how you’re getting on. Didn’t expect you to be closed.”

“Er, yeah.” I scratched the back of my neck. “There’s nothing left, so we saw no point in staying open. We were just working on something in the back room.”

I caught the barest hint of a smirk flick over Ash’s face, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hide my own. Thankfully, Dad was busy eyeing the emptiness of the shop, and Mum wasn’t paying close attention, though she was trying to flag down my gaze.

I watched her pitiful attempt at eye-charades for a second before realising what she wanted. “Oh, this is Ash,” I said with a wave in his direction. “He’s just helping out while I prepare for the contest. Ash, this is my mum and dad.”

“So nice to meet you.” Mum smiled brightly, extending a hand for him to shake. “My, you are a handsome lad, aren’t you?”

“Mum…”

Ash took her bluntness in his stride, probably preening like a bird in the sun with the ego boost. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Polite, too.” She aimed that keen observation at me with a not-so-subtle wink. I knew exactly what she was getting at, and though it was great to have her approval, I refused to entertain her matchmaking.

“He has his moments,” I deadpanned, looking over at Ash until he glared back at me.

Silence fell around us, and it wasn’t until I noticed Mum shivering that I jolted back into action. “Wanna go up to the flat? It’s baltic in here and there’s nowhere to sit.”

“That would be lovely.”

With a nod, I locked the door again before leading the way to the stairs in the back.

“We only planned on stopping by for a minute, but a cup of tea would be sociable, don’t you think Gerald?” My dad didn’t get the chance to respond as she barrelled on. “You and your friend can come over tomorrow for dinner. We can catch up properly, then.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“That’d be delightful, Mrs Miller.” Ash interrupted me, and when I peered over my shoulder to glower at him, he had her arm linked in his, guiding her up the stairs.

Bloody charmer.

Mum cooed, patting his arm. “Call me Angela.”

We got ourselves situated in the living room, my dad making a beeline for the armchair in the corner while the rest of us squeezed like sardines onto the sofa. Ash didn’t seem to mind, so I didn’t make a fuss, and Mum was too busy surveying the place to care.

“You’ve made some changes since we last came by.” She nodded approvingly. “Thank the Lord. It was such a pigsty.”

I side-eyed Ash behind her back, knowing the ‘changes’ she referred to were all the personal touches he’d slowly been introducing over the last few weeks. There was a bookcase, hanging plants, some display pillows we weren’t supposed to sit on, and curtains that actually fit the windows, to name a few. He’d also tackled the bedrooms and the kitchen, adding little bits here and there that I’d never have thought of buying, but didn’t begrudge him. If it made him more comfortable, he could use as much cupboard space as he pleased.

But none of that would be mentioned aloud as I didn’t fancy my mum thinking we were in any type of relationship.

Because we weren’t. It was just fucking. We were co-workers who lived together.

And Ash was a demon.

“Tea, Mum?” I said, dodging her comment and my thoughts.

“I’ll make it,” Ash offered, his hand on my shoulder to stop me from getting up. He took everyone’s order—except mine, as he knew it off by heart—before heading to the kitchen.

He was barely out of the room when Mum decided to lean forward and whisper, not so quietly, “He seems nice.”

I nodded. “He is.”

“Where is he from?”

There was a clang in the kitchen that I wasn’t sure was accidental. “Er, Chelsea.”

“Ah, yes. I did suspect somewhere down London way, or thereabouts. He’s very… What’s the word?”Pretentious?“Posh.”

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