14
Milly
Milly tapped on the door of Brendan’s cabin, and when there was no answer she let herself in.
She dropped the bag of fresh linen in the hallway and took the bag of food straight through to the kitchen, noticing as she did so that most of the sheets of paper had been cleared from the floor.
She was unloading food into the fridge when she heard a noise behind her.
Heart thumping she turned, a fresh melon in her hand.
Brendan Scott stood in the doorway, his hair wet from the shower, a towel looped around his neck. He wore a pair of shorts and had a clean shirt in his hand. His chest was bare, water still clinging to his shoulders and his bare legs.
He raised an eyebrow. “Death by melon? That’s a new one.”
She lowered the melon. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. I should have called out from the bathroom, but you didn’t strike me as the jumpy type.”
She’d never been the jumpy type, but that was before Nicole had come to stay with her. Now she was suffering from hypervigilance. Yesterday she’d found herself checking the bushes for photographers when she left the house, and she’d insisted that Zoe walk to the main entrance of Forest Nest to meet her dad so that there was no chance Richard might catch sight of Nicole.
The fewer people who knew she was there, the better.
“I had no idea you were here.”
And now she was flustered. “Did I get the time wrong? I thought you told me you’d be out this morning.”
“That was the plan, but my book was going well so I ended up working for most of the night.”
He rubbed the edges of his hair with the towel. “I wanted to get it done while I was in the flow of it.”
“So you’ve finished?”
“Just a draft, but a draft is good.”
His smile told her just how good.
She couldn’t imagine it, being able to create something from nothing like that. “You probably want to go right back to bed and catch up on sleep. I’ll finish off here and then leave you alone. I can come back later to clean the cabin and change the sheets and towels. I apologize for disturbing you.”
She carried on unloading the food from the bag. She felt self-conscious, which was ridiculous because she was just doing her job. Of course, she didn’t usually do her job with a shirtless man hovering. But she wasn’t a teenager. She was past feeling flustered, surely?
“Why are you apologizing? We had an arrangement. I’m the one who changed it. No need to leave, unless it bothers you working around me.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
Although it might have been easier if he put his shirt on.
Perhaps he read her mind because he tugged on his shirt and strolled into the room. “What delicious treats are you bringing me today? That dish you left a few days ago—what was it? Roasted peppers and goat cheese. Sublime.”
She wasn’t a teenager but discovered she was still capable of blushing like one. “Good. You need to eat.”
“I appreciate it. It’s kind of you. Catering isn’t exactly part of my package here.”
“I’m bringing you leftovers, that’s all.”
She didn’t say that these days she planned a portion for him into every meal she prepared. “I love to cook, and I always make too much. Ask Zoe.”
“Zoe is your daughter?”
“Yes.”
Close up she could see how tired he looked. She imagined him in the early hours, hunched over his laptop on the deck, losing track of time. “Have you had breakfast? Coffee? I could make you something.”
“I’m sure you have things you need to do. It’s the weekend, after all.”
“I don’t have anywhere else I need to be. Zoe is with her dad this weekend.”
And she was trying to fill her time and not to think too much about it, because dwelling on what might be happening was a quick way to make herself feel horrible. She’d been awake half the night worrying that Richard might say bad things about her in front of Zoe. She’d managed to upset herself over conversations that had only happened in her mind, but in her defense Richard didn’t seem to be exercising much restraint at the moment. Milly didn’t want Zoe to find herself in the middle of it all.
She loaded the last of the food into the fridge, trying hard not to think about Richard. Trying not to wonder how you could go from smiling together at your new baby to dividing up weekends and holidays. “I made lemon chicken, which you can heat up and eat with rice. I noticed you had some in the cupboard. Also a roasted vegetable tart that you can have with salad. I made some poppy seed bread rolls this morning, so I’ve put a couple on the side for you. At least you won’t starve for the next couple of days.”
“Where have you been all my life?”
He fastened the buttons on his shirt. He didn’t seem in any hurry to get back to his work. “Is it hard for you when she’s away?”
Milly closed the fridge door. She was tempted to spill out the truth, but the last thing he needed was to hear about her problems and worries. Overthinking was one thing, but oversharing was something she tried to avoid. “It’s fine. I get time to myself, and that’s a treat.”
“Time you spend waiting on other people and staying busy.”
He watched her for a moment. “Will that delicious-sounding chicken keep until tomorrow?”
“Yes. I made it fresh this morning.”
She pulled a box out of the other bag. “And I brought you a slice of my chocolate fudge cake.”
“I think I might be falling in love with you.”
She knew he was joking, but still his comment made her heart pound a little harder. “You should probably taste it before you make the final decision.”
He put the towel over the back of the chair. “What’s your favorite food? Does anyone ever cook for you?”
“Cook for me? No. I mean, Zoe helps. She loves cooking too. It’s something we do together.”
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Dinner? She was so surprised she almost dropped the box containing the thick wedge of chocolate cake.
Why was he asking her? Because he felt guilty that she was cleaning his cabin at a weekend? Because he felt he needed to pay her back for the food? Her mind spiraled through the options.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, having tasted the quality of your food I’m not offering to cook for you. I’d be too nervous of scaring you away.”
He gave a wry smile. “I was thinking a restaurant. A good one, so that you’re not sitting there thinking you can make something better at home. You have more than your fair share of fine dining establishments around here.”
“That’s a kind offer, but you don’t have to do that.”
She was embarrassed that he thought he should. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought him food. In trying to make his life a little easier, she’d overstepped.
He frowned. “I’m not inviting you out of some sense of obligation, Milly. You’re good company. I’d like to take you for dinner. If you’d like to join me.”
Was she good company?
She stared at him, trying to read his mind, wishing she was better at this. She’d let Richard crush her confidence so badly that when a man asked her to dinner she assumed he was being polite.
But Brendan thought she was good company. Not boring or a martyr.
And now she was tempted. More than tempted.
Dinner would mean dressing up and eating in a restaurant where someone else had prepared the food.
When had she last done that?
Richard’s voice echoed in her head. You don’t know how to enjoy yourself.
Brendan was watching her. “If you have other plans, it’s not a problem.”
Plans?
She thought about Nicole but knew her friend well enough to know that Nicole would want her to go. More than that, if she turned him down and Nicole found out, then she’d probably kill her.
“I don’t have other plans.”
She said the words before she could think her way to saying no. Her plan had been to get through the weekend as best she could, filling every moment with work. But now he was offering her an alternative. And she was going to take it. She’d prove to Richard, and to herself, that she was more than capable of enjoying herself. “Thank you. I’d like that. Where did you have in mind?”
He mentioned a restaurant that was so well-known she knew right away there was no chance of them being able to get a reservation.
“You wouldn’t get a table at this short notice. People travel from everywhere just to eat there.”
“Have you eaten there?”
“No, but it’s the place I recommend to guests when they have a special celebration.”
She didn’t add that it was outside her price range and that there was no way Richard would ever have paid that much for a plate of food Milly could cook him at home. “You have to book at least three months in advance.”
“I’ll give them a call. They might have a cancellation.”
She thought he was being overly optimistic, but then she remembered that he was famous and probably had contacts. “Would you like me to call them?”
“No. You do far too much as it is. I’ve got this.”
I’ve got this.
The three (or was it technically four?) words that no one ever said to her. She was always the one taking charge. In control. It felt good not to be for a short time.
“Great. If you manage to get a table, then message me a time. And if not, let me know if you need me to suggest somewhere else.”
“Why don’t I pick you up from the boathouse around seven?”
She didn’t want him near the boathouse in case he spotted Nicole. “I’ll meet you here. It’s probably easier.”
“Sure, if that’s what you prefer.”
And now that it was all planned, the doubts started.
“Are you sure you’ll have the energy for dinner? If you worked all night, you must be exhausted.”
“I’m energized because finally the book is going well. You have no idea how good that feels. I have a draft. Once I have a full draft, I can relax. I have major work ahead on it, but it’s work that I know I can do.”
He was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. There was warmth in his eyes and something else that she couldn’t quite interpret. Something that made her deliciously jittery.
“Is the fact that you’ve finished your draft the reason I could finally walk across your floor without stepping on sheets of paper?”
His smile widened. “It’s connected. I should probably thank you because you were the one who finally gave me the idea that fixed it.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I changed the killer. Instead of it being the estranged younger brother, it’s the dutiful ex-wife. It’s brilliant. No one is going to predict that.”
She remembered Lorna saying that she was never able to predict the ending of his books. “I’m trying to figure out how I inspired this. Are you saying I look like a murderer?”
“You look nothing like a murderer. And neither does the murderer in my book. Which is why no one is going to suspect it.”
“So how did I give you the idea?”
“Because you were talking about your ex-husband.”
“I wasn’t the one suggesting different ways of murdering him. That was you.”
He laughed. “You’ll have to forgive the way my mind works. And now I’ve given you a major spoiler, so I’m hoping you don’t read my work.”
These days she wasn’t reading much at all. She was usually asleep before her head hit the pillow. But if she did read a few pages she made sure it wasn’t something that would keep her awake or give her bad dreams. “Will I offend you if I admit that I don’t?”
“Not at all. Given that I’ve just ruined the next book for you, I’m relieved. Although, obviously, you could ruin everything for me by going online and spilling the ending of my next book.”
He leaned a little closer. “Are you good at keeping secrets, Milly? Because if you’re not, I’m going to have to keep you trapped here until the book comes out. Which would be a good plot for a story, come to think of it.”
It was hard to focus on the conversation when he was looking at her with that gleam in his eyes.
“When does this book come out?”
“Late next year.”
“Then, it’s lucky for both of us that I’m excellent at keeping secrets.”
Milly thought about Nicole. “You can trust me. Just tell me that the victim in your book isn’t called Richard.”
“His name is Callum, but I can change it to Richard if you prefer?”
“Definitely not.”
She imagined Richard picking the book up and discovering himself dead by her hand. “Stick with Callum. So now you’ve cleared up all the paper, does this mean I can finally clean your floor?”
“If you’re sure that’s okay.”
She laughed. “It’s my job.”
“But not really,”
he said and rubbed his hand across his jaw. “It’s only your job because I scared Lorna away.”
“Forest Nest is my business, and I do whatever is needed. Sometimes it’s taking bookings. Sometimes it’s arranging a celebration cake. Sometimes it’s cleaning a floor.”
“And you don’t mind it?”
“Not at all. I love my job. Does that surprise you? It probably seems very boring to you.”
“Boring?”
He let his hand drop. “Living here? Working here? Not boring at all. It’s a great life choice.”
Everything he said made her feel better about herself. She could have talked to him all day, but she had work to do and presumably so did he, so she scooped up her empty bags and his damp towel and got to work.
She changed sheets, put fresh fluffy towels in the bathroom and emptied the bins. She flung open windows and did some basic tidying, careful not to touch any of the remaining notes or stray pieces of paper.
As she mopped the kitchen floor she could see him standing on the terrace, staring out over the lake, deep in thought.
His job probably required a great deal of thinking and mental stamina, she decided, whereas hers needed physical stamina.
Her back was aching from too much bending over, and she scooped up the bags of dirty laundry and was on her way to the door when he stopped her.
“I have one question before you go.”
She dropped the laundry bag, aware that her face was probably unattractively hot and sweaty. “What?”
“Is your chocolate fudge cake as good as the key lime pie you brought me the other day?”
She laughed. “That’s for you to decide.”
She was still smiling as she closed the door behind her and headed up the track toward the café to check on the team.
She was halfway there when it occurred to her that for the past hour she hadn’t thought about Richard or what he might or might not be saying to Zoe. She’d been laughing and happy and distracted. And tonight she was going for dinner with Brendan Scott. She was going to wear a dress and put on makeup and do her best to wipe Richard’s words from her memory.
Feeling more positive, she reached for her phone and sent a message to Zoe.
Love you. Hope you’re doing okay there xx