Page 28 of Valentine Nook
“Deadly.” Miles clasps a hand to his chest, as dramatic as always. “The waterfall has a special place in my heart. It’s where I lost my virginity to Isobel Carruthers. It’s where I ended up with Mabel last Friday night.”
“What? LastFriday?” I was there last Friday too. I squeeze my eyes tight shut and scrub a hand down my face. That is not a visual I want in my head. “Stop ruining my thinking spot for me.”
“You’re ruining my fucking spot. What about the next time I want to go? I’m going to get performance anxiety, thinking my big brother will walk in on me?—”
I spin around, checking no one’s listening. Even though everyone knows what Miles is like, he’s talking far too loudly for my liking. I try to keep some level of professionalism around here. “Milo?—”
“Kidding. I’d never get performance anxiety?—”
“Miles.”
“Sorry.” He sweeps an arm out in front of him. “Continue.”
I sigh so deeply I’m certain my bones rattle. I can’t even remember what I was going to tell them. They’d only laugh anyway.
“Why is she so under your skin?” Hendricks asks when I still haven’t said anything.
“Who?”
“Holiday Simpson.”
“She’s not.”
“Sounds like she is.” His mouth curves down in one of those I-don’t-give-a-shit pouts, and his shoulders jerk.
“Well, she isn’t.”
“Then why do you care whether Pierre teaches her how to cook?”
Fucking Hendricks. Hewasbloody listening earlier. He’s the dark horse to Miles’s bull in a china shop. Quieter, pays attention, but you don’t realize until it’s too late.
“Because he’s got enough to do, and I don’t want her hanging around the house.”
“In case Clemmie and Mum get the wrong idea?”
“Or because maybe you like her, but you don’t want to admit you like her because then Mum and Clemmie would be right?” Miles adds.
“I’ve met her twice.” I hold up two fingers. “Twice. For a total of about ten minutes. It’s not long enough to form an opinion.”
“What a load of bollocks.” Miles scoffs. “And we both know you’re going to apologize to her because you’re not really the colossal dick you’re so good at pretending you are. So maybe get it over with today and tell her she’s welcome to the Burlington kitchen whenever she likes.”
“I wasn’t a dick.”
Hendricks and Miles raise identical eyebrows.
“Okay, fine.”
Miles slaps an arm across my shoulders. “Proud of you, big brother, and on that note, I have a date with my favorite girl. Legs up to heaven, beautiful chestnut red hair, so soft it feels like silk. And she fits just right between my thighs.” He winks, and I can’t help the grin pulling at my lips because I know the idiot’s talking about Chester, his polo pony.
And just like that, my anger dissipates.
Miles might be the most annoying individual I know, but he also makes me laugh more than anyone else.
Despite having absolutely no intention of apologizing, I’ve parked outside Bluebell Cottage, opened the gate, and am currently knocking on the door.
I try not to think about the fact the last time I was here was the night before my wedding.
Today, there’s a brand-new pair of wellies lined up neatly by the step. So new I wonder if she’s even worn them yet. I mean, there’s not a speck of dirt on them.
