Page 103 of Rough Around the Hedges

And she hated me.

Hatedme.

She’d be happy if we never crossed paths again, and for a moment, I briefly considered it. What if I did what she wanted? What if I just cancelled everything, went back to London, and never set foot in this crazy, close-knit little village ever again?

I could. It’d fuck up all my plans and I’d probably have to go through the planning stages for the house’s maintenance works again, but maybe it would be worth it in the end.

Cancel everything.

What if I…

I shook my head and smacked my cheek. No, that was crazy talk. I couldn’t just flush all my plans down the toilet because of a woman.

Well, I could.

Shit, I could. Rose only hated me because I was closing the allotments. If I cancelled the deal and withdrew the eviction notice, wouldn’t that fix how she felt about me? Even if she didn’t feel the same way I did, I could just leave. My life was in London, after all. I’d never intended to stay in Hanbury long-term.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

I buried my hands in my hair. What was wrong with me? What spell had that lunatic cast on me that I was thinking like this? Was I really considering blowing up all my well-laid plans just so she didn’t hate me anymore? For the tiniest little chance that there was a single cell in her body that might feel something other than utter derision towards me?

Yeah.

Yeah, I was.

I wanted her. I wanted her to want me. I wanted to hold on to her tightly, and I wanted her to grab me back so I couldn’t let her go.

I didn’t want to have to hide the way I looked at her. The way I touched her. The way I felt about her.

But if I tried any of that now, she would probably come at me with a spade or shove one of her chilli peppers in my eye.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialled Luke’s number, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Yes, my lord? How may your humble servant assist you on this fine morning?” he answered.

Why did I keep this idiot on my payroll?

I put the call on speaker. “Hey, do me a favour.”

“I live to serve,” he replied, his voice filling my office.

“Save the serving for the next time you piss off your fiancée,” I suggested. “Can you send me a copy of the draft contract with Ascot Homes?”

There was a pause before he said, “Sure, but why do you want it?”

“Do I need to explain everything to you? Would you like to know why I didn’t have breakfast this morning, too?”

“I’ll send it now,” he said quickly, then lowered his voice. “Is everything all right, Oli?”

“Mm. Just want to check something,” I replied, taking the bite out of my tone. “How is everything there? Is Harry managing fine?”

“He’s got everything under control. Are you still coming at the weekend?”

“Yeah. I’ll be leaving early on Friday morning.”

“I’ll have someone go into your place to clean on Thursday and make sure it’s stocked,” he replied. “Do you need a suit prepared for Saturday night’s event?”

I groaned internally, remembering the charity auction I had to attend while I was back. “Yeah. Choose whatever. I don’t care. I’m only going because I have to.”

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