Page 81 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
Milo nodded.
“Shit the bed.” He looked at Nory, one hand rubbing his brow. “You think Jenna was pissed about missing her hack? Wait till she finds out a deer just ate the salad course of her wedding banquet.”
Nory followed Isaac and Milo to the garden in question. The greenhouse was in complete disarray. Wooden potting benches had been overturned, pots lay scattered and smashed, and the planters that remained upright showcased the jagged green stubs of what had been salad leaves mere hours before.
“One deer did all of this?” Nory asked, righting one of the benches and bending to retrieve some seed trays from beneath it.
“There could have been more, but one hungry deer can pretty much devastate a veg patch given enough time. And with the threat of snow, they’re stocking up on calories,” Isaac replied, rescuing some planters that had slid down behind a trestle table out of the deer’s reach.
“You don’t seem that annoyed.”
“You can’t blame an animal for wanting to eat, it’s just trying to survive.”
“What will you do? About the salad course, I mean.”
Isaac looked around. Milo was busily sweeping spilled compost and plant detritus into a pile at the far end of the greenhouse.
“There’s a couple of nearby farms that supply the village farm shop. I’ll ask Jake as well, see if Noel and Son can help us out. They top us up sometimes if we’ve got a shortfall.”
“I’d say you’ve definitely got a shortfall situation.”
Isaac nodded in grim agreement. “It won’t completely satisfy the bride’s wish for homegrown, but it’ll be from within a five-mile radius, which isn’t too bad.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much, she’s having the wedding favors shipped over from a chocolatier in Switzerland, and her own personal wedding blend of coffee beans flown in from Ethiopia. Jenna’s carbon footprint concerns are what you might call fickle.”
“Maybe you’d like to be the one to tell her about the salad?”
“If you can guarantee me that the farms can provide, then I’ll break it to her. But if we’re looking at supermarket salad bags, you’re on your own.”
Isaac grinned and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call them now.”
“Do you need an extra pair of hands to clean up here?”
“No, thanks. We’ll be fine. But I may have to take a rain check on showing you the lost garden later,” he said, looking around.
“That’s okay. I really ought to go and see how Jez’s and Guy’s bruises are coming along.”
Isaac’s expression darkened. “Did you and he used to be together?”
Nory chewed her lip as she considered that this question could be applied to almostallof the men in the house party. But she knew Isaac was referring to Guy and his comment at the stables.
“No,” she answered honestly. “I made a mistake with him once, a long time ago, but we’ve never been together.”
She could see Isaac processing this information and knew he was considering what form hermistakewith Guy had taken. But she wasn’t going to elaborate. She didn’t need to. Her past was her own, and she was the only person allowed to judge her on it.
As if sensing her thoughts, Isaac said, “It’s none of my business. I suppose what I was really asking is, do I have competition?”
Nory’s smile seemed out of her control.
“No,” she said. “You don’t have any competition.” And then she asked, “Just to clarify, does this mean we are ignoring my brother and the marquis?”
Isaac took her hand. “They’re just going to have to lump it.”
He leaned in and kissed her lips, just once, slowly, softly, making Nory’s body thrill and ache at the same time.
“You’re a very good kisser,” Nory whispered, stumbling slightly as he moved away from her. She’d heard of people getting punch-drunk, but was snog-drunk a thing?
“You’re rather good yourself.” Isaac smiled. “I’m finding your lips very hard to resist.”
