Page 171 of Rough Around the Hedges

“Oh, I see.” Eleanor pulled the sugar bag down from the cupboard and put a spoonful into her tea. “Understandable, then. He really is a bull in a china shop, isn’t he?”

I sighed heavily. “A tornado in a wind tunnel,” I replied. “I don’t know how he managed it. I explicitly told him not to touch them because he’d cut the wrong ones, but here we are.”

“It was one cane,” the man in question said, walking into the kitchen. “Then I bought you three more plants. Was that not sufficient enough an apology?”

I raised my head to look at him, my gaze dropping to his arms. “I’m sorry, why are you in the kitchen in your lingerie?”

Oliver paused. “What lingerie? I’m fully dressed.”

I leant over and pinched his rolled-up shirt sleeve. “This. This is dirty. Please put on some proper clothes.”

He leant down and hit me with his best smile. “Is that so? What are you going to do about it?”

Eleanor cleared her throat. “As pleased as I am to have got myself a daughter, please don’t flirt in front of me.”

Oliver looked between us. “Why doesn’t it bother you when she calls you her daughter, but the second someone asks us if we’re going to get married you look like a rabbit over a stewing pot?”

I blinked innocently at him. “Well, for starters, being her daughter means I’m stuck with her for life.”

“Marrying me means you’re with me for life, too. What’s the difference?”

“One is your mother and the other is, well, you.”

He flicked the side of my head and walked away, shaking his head. “You know, if we’d been dating longer than a couple of months, I’d be offended by that.”

I slurped my matcha latte through the straw, staring at him. “Good thing it’s only been two months, then, huh?”

He laughed, still shaking his head, and made himself a cup of coffee. I averted my gaze when he put two teaspoons of the contents of the sugar pot in his mug and stirred it in.

I also skirted my chair back and got ready to run.

Oliver sat down opposite me and looked at me. “Why do you look like you’re about to run?”

“Busy day,” I said vaguely.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because—” I paused. “Eleanor, plug your ears.”

She covered her ears with her hands.

“Someone is a neanderthal who fell asleep on me and wouldn’t let me go,” I said, looking pointedly at Oliver. “And last time I left after dark, you brought up statistics about badgers and cows attacking humans. It was a performance I’d rather not repeat.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He raised his mug to his lips, then paused. “Uncover your ears, Mum,” he said loudly.

“Thank you.” She dropped her hands. “So, do you kids have any plans today?”

“Work,” I said with a sigh. “There’s not much to do at the allotment since the season is winding down, but now that the trees are losing their leaves, there’s a lot to collect.”

“Why are you collecting them?” Oliver asked. “You’re a gardener, not a road sweep.”

“They make for good mulch. I get them on my usual rounds. They break down quickly, so they’re a great fertiliser. And they’re free, which is my favourite price.” I grinned. “So, if you see me pushing a bright yellow sweeper around the grounds here, you saw nothing.”

He laughed, shaking his head, and finally took a sip of his coffee. He immediately spat it out and looked at me. “Rose.”

“Shit.” I got to my feet and pushed off the table, the force giving me a head start.

“You little—” The pounding of Oliver’s feet against the floor suggested he was following me, and I squealed, almost running into Bruce.

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