Page 20 of The Beach Cottage
He shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I miss having my family. I miss Julian and getting to be there with him when he wakes up in the morning. I don’t have a residence, not a permanent one, so I can’t have him come live with me, and it’s killing me.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change of career?”
“You could be right. I’m getting too old for this business anyway. I’ve been thinking about settling somewhere and changing pace so Julian can stay with me during the holidays and on some weekends. He won’t be a kid forever, and I’m missing it all.” He brushed golden curls from his eyes.
“Your hair is getting too long,” Penny said. She hated to see her brother in pain like this. It was hard to watch him suffer and not be able to do anything about it. She reached up to ruffle his hair.
He smirked. “Soon I’ll be able to tuck it behind my ears like you do.”
“Come into town with me tomorrow and I’ll introduce you to my hairdresser.”
He tugged a suitcase from beneath his bed and set it on the end of the covers, opening the lid. “I’m leaving, Pen. I won’t be here tomorrow.”
“That was sudden,” she said.
“Not really, I got a call earlier about a job.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
He smiled at her as he shoved a pair of pants into a large canvas bag. “Me too. I’ll miss you and this place. I’ve grown attached to having a swim every morning and lazing around on the sand. But the good times can’t last forever. Time to get back to work, make some money.”
“Speaking of unemployed bums lazing around on the sand, Rowan was just here.”
“He was?” Rob glanced up at the door. “Why didn’t he come in?”
“I don’t know,” Penny replied. “It was the strangest thing. He spoke to me for a few minutes, said something about wanting what he can’t have, then marched off into the night. Do you have any idea what he was going on about?”
Rob’s face clouded. He turned his back to reach for a bottle of water and shoved it into the side of his bag. “Stay away from him.”
“Stay away from him? I hardly ever see him. What’s going on, Rob?”
“I only have one rule—no friends dating my sister.” His voice grew louder with every word.
Penny’s brow furrowed, and she walked to the door, then faced him. “You do know I’m a grown adult?”
His eyes narrowed. “The rule still stands.”
“I’m not your property or your wife. I’m your sister. I can date whoever I like.”
“Not my friends, you can’t. He’s my best mate, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Why? Is he a criminal or a serial killer? If he’s your best friend, surely you think he’s a good person. Wouldn’t that mean you’d be happy for me to date him?”
His mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. Finally, he exploded. “Stay away from Rowan Clements. I mean it, Penelope.”
Anger roiled in her gut. How dare he presume to tell her how to live her life. She was forty-five years old, for heaven’s sake. She didn’t need a chaperone or a babysitter, and she certainly didn’t need an older brother acting like some kind of medieval father figure. “I refuse even to talk to you about this, Robert St James. You’re not a teenager anymore, and I’m not a kid. Time to grow up!”
She stormed out of the room and down the hall, then slammed her bedroom door shut behind her so that a picture frame rattled against the wall. She threw herself down on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest, her breathing ragged.
She didn’t understand him when he got like that. He was a brute and a bully. She knew it was because he cared about her, but she didn’t need his protection any longer. She wasn’t the sweet, naïve little curly-haired girl he remembered from their childhood. She was a grown woman capable of making her own choices, and even he should be able to see that her choice wouldn’t be to date Rowan Clements. They weren’t suited to one another, and besides that, he lived in an entirely different country. It made no sense for Rob to be angry about something so unlikely.
Ten
Beatrice was flustered. It was the day of the grand opening, and so far, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. The paint the contractor had used on the walls turned out to be yellow when it was supposed to be white. They’d had to redo it the previous evening, it still stunk throughout as though the paint was wet. So, she’d had to open all the windows and run several industrial fans in the space to help air it out. Then the brand-new stove had failed to work, which turned out to be an electrical issue. The electrician was busy, then he broke his leg playing cricket and she had to find someone else to replace him last minute.
But finally, everything was in place. The paint didn’t smell nearly as bad as it had, the white looked perfect against the stained timber floors, the stove worked, everything was ready, and the guests were due to arrive any moment.
Bea looked around her new café, her heart fluttering. What had she gotten herself into? It was so overwhelming, although she couldn’t help being a little proud of herself for pulling it together despite the odds and in a very short time frame.
