Page 62 of Slow Kind of Love

Chapter Twenty-Two

Link was cranky.

He’d spent the night at a mate’s flat after coming to town to hang with the boys and listen to a great Irish band. The sofa at his friend’s place was to blame for his sore neck. The beer for his sore head. But it was his Land Rover dying on the way home that was responsible for his bad mood. Thankfully, the rain had stopped hours ago, so he was at least dry.

By the time he trudged up the seemingly endless driveway and walked around to the kitchen entrance, it was dark. He was cold and hungry and planned on eating as much of Mrs. Dalewood’s leftovers as he could get his hands on, then go straight to bedroom and the hot shower and bed.

He hung his jacket just inside the door and shrugged out of his boots before walking into the kitchen, where he spied the Dalewoods having tea and cookies. A glance at the clock on the wall told him they were right on schedule.

“Anything in the fridge?” he asked hopefully.

“Some beef stew and fresh biscuits to go with. Take a seat here and let me heat that up for you.”

“I can do it.”

But Mrs. Dalewood was already on her feet, so he sat down to wait. Pepper sprang to his feet, sniffed around Link’s ankles, and then settled down for a snooze.

Mrs. Dalewood set down a steaming bowl of stew loaded with meat and potatoes, along with a plate of biscuits still warm from the oven. Link dug in, suddenly famished, and when he finally came up for air, his bowl was nearly empty and there were only two biscuits left.

“Have fun in the village, did ya?” Mr. Dalewood asked.

“I did. Saw David and the boys.”

“McAllister?”

“Yep.”

“That boy was trouble when you were teenagers, and he’s never outgrown it.” Mrs. Dalewood shook her head. “Why, just last week, I heard he’s been fooling around with the constable’s wife. And she’s not the first married woman he’s been involved with.”

Link sat back. “I guess that explains why he left when the bobbies showed up.” He pushed back and took his plates to the sink. “That hit the spot. Thank you.” He was about to head upstairs, but paused at the entrance. “I was expecting a package today. Was anything delivered?”

Mrs. Dalewood shook her head. “Nothing was delivered, but something showed up.”

“Yeah?” Link waited, glancing between the woman and her husband, who looked nervous. Or something.

“It might not be what you expected, but I think it’s what you need.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Have a look in the Rose Room, and you’ll see what I mean.”

“So mysterious, Mrs. Dalewood.”

“I have my moments, mind. Now, run along. We’re going to finish up and retire to our rooms. I need to be in front of the telly by eight for our Inspector show.”

Link headed for the stairs and almost went to his room for that shower and bed, but at the last minute turned right and walked to the end of the hall, where he opened the door that led to the Rose Room.

The fire was lit, though it burned low, and a lamp by the bed threw soft beams. Someone was asleep there. Intrigued, Link walked over to the bed, expecting to find his cousin Rose or one of his mates from London. But when he got closer, he realized the hair was too long and blonde, and it was then that her scent fell over him, waking up his senses.

Elise.

Confused, he stared down at her, drinking in the features that had haunted him for days and days. He’d thought that if he ever laid eyes on her again, he’d feel nothing but cold anger. But as he gazed down at Elise Avery, the feeling that bloomed in his chest wasn’t anything like anger. Hell, it wasn’t even close.

Her nose twitched, and he reached down to move the piece of hair that was bothering her. As he pulled away, she opened her eyes.

At first, she smiled up at him, a beautiful smile meant for no other man, and then it slowly faded as the sleep fled her eyes and she came fully awake. For a moment, neither one said a thing, and then she sat up.

“Hi,” she said softly.

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