Chapter Twenty-Six
When Tess’s excited scuffle announced Devon’s arrival before he could knock at the door, Ella’s pulse began to misbehave in the most ridiculous way.
He’s just coming for a meal, she told herself sternly as she walked slowly and calmly back down the stairs to the front door. Tess was already there, chief ambassador for the official welcoming committee. Her tail was wagging with delight.
It was odd how even through a solid door the dog could tell friend from foe. How did she do that?
Ella opened the door, amused to find that her hand shook as she lifted the latch.
She found two crates of bottles on the doorstep and Devon coming down the path towards her with a final crate.
‘This is the last one.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Tombola?’
‘Oh, yes. Mum insisted I brought it over.’
With a broad grin, she took one of the crates from him, almost buckling at the weight. ‘Crikey, I didn’t know there were this many people in the village to donate so much stuff.’
Devon gave a wry grin. ‘Looking at some of the dodgier bottles, I think they’re recycled back into the tombola every year. This one,’ he inclined his head towards a bottle of red wine lodged on the top of the box he carried, ‘is for you, but if you wanted a different colour, we can always swap it.’
Ella shook her head. ‘Best stick with this, I think.’ She gave the bottles in the box a grimace. ‘I think we’d rather know what we’re dealing with and more importantly it will go perfectly with dinner.’
‘Something smells good.’
‘There’s enough of it.’ Ella gave him a dubious look. ‘You might be taking a food parcel or three home with you.’
Devon raised his eyebrows in question.
‘I’ve made bolognese sauce.’ She winced. ‘Quite a bit. A huge vat.’ It was no good. The laughter bubbled out. ‘Small weights and measures issue at the butchers.’
‘I’m intrigued. What on earth constitutes a weights and measures issue?’
With a sheepish frown, she asked, ‘Have you any idea how much meat there is in two and half kilograms?’
‘Yup.’ His voice rang with confidence, making Ella scrunch up her nose. He would. Of course he did. ‘It’s two thousand five hundred grams.’
‘Smart.’ She smiled and rolled her eyes.
‘It’s also an awful lot of raw mince. More than I’ve ever seen in my life.
By the time I saw the butcher weighing out enough to feed ten armies, and he’d asked me three times if I was sure I wanted that much, I couldn’t admit I’d made a mistake.
’ She was going to be living on spaghetti bolognese and lasagne for the next six months.
‘Good job, I love spag bol.’ Devon’s cheerful wink made her smile.
‘I didn’t say it was any good.’
‘It’s got to be better than my cooking or my mother’s.’
‘What, Audrey?’
‘She’s the only mother I’ve got.’
‘Audrey can’t cook? But she’s president of the WI. I thought cooking was mandatory.’
‘That’s why. She’s so busy she never has time to do it properly. The problem is she’ll start something and then become sidetracked, so recipes never quite work or they’re burnt or overcooked.’
Ella stifled a giggle, still not able to believe it. ‘Well, don’t get too excited.’
Although with the amount of tomatoes, onions, red wine and herbs that had gone into it, it ought to be bloody brilliant.
‘To be honest, at this point my stomach doesn’t care. Is it all right if I bring Dexter in with me? He’s in the car.’
As she said the words, ‘Of course,’ Ella marvelled at how much things had changed. Who’d have thought two months ago she’d be calmly inviting a second dog into her home? Let alone be living with one. And there was Tess’s excited bark. ‘It’s yes from me and a yes from Tess.’
Dexter burst through the door despite Devon’s restraining hand on his collar and even though he’d met Tess a million times before immediately homed in on her back end.
Ella had to plant her feet firmly, so she didn’t get knocked over by Tess and Dexter’s excited tails sideswiping her with every manic circuit of her legs.
‘Dex, behave!’ said Devon, hauling on the exuberant dog’s collar. ‘Sit. Where are your manners? Leave Tess alone.’
The dog promptly sat. Plonking his full weight on Ella’s feet, panting up at her with adoration. Tess bounced up and down in excitement.
She gave his ears a quick ruffle and Tess immediately stuck her nose in, pushing at her hand in good-natured jealousy.
‘Don’t worry, I still love you.’ Ella shook her head and carried on stroking Dexter’s head. ‘But you, Dex,’ she complained, nudging him with her thigh and shuffling her feet out, ‘are heavy.’
‘Sorry,’ Devon grinned. ‘He just wants to be friends.’
‘I can see that, but my toes aren’t convinced.’ Ella wiggled her feet. ‘Come on through.’
Devon handed over the bottle of red wine and she promptly handed it back to him.
‘Actually, would you mind doing the honours? I need to put the pasta on. Corkscrew in the drawer by the bread bin.’
There was a loud clang as Devon, dodging the two dogs, tripped over Tess’s bowl in the middle of the kitchen floor.
Ella leaned down and scooped it up, taking it over to the far side of the kitchen where Tess’s bed and water bowl sat and opened the French doors to let the two mad dogs out. ‘Sorry, Tess is incapable of eating without chasing the bowl around the room.’
She crossed the room and opened the cupboard to pull out two wine glasses, horribly aware that her hands were shaking a little.
‘Honestly, she attacks her food as if it were her last meal ever. It’s a wonder she doesn’t go through the French doors.
In fact, she eats so quickly, I think she just inhales the biscuits.
She can’t possibly taste them. Although they look and smell so disgusting, you can hardly blame her. ’
Devon raised an eyebrow at her sudden flow of words but calmly poured two rich ruby red glasses of wine and handed her one.
‘Thank you.’ Ella took a sip, while still on the move.
‘Sorry, you must be starving. I haven’t even got the water on to boil.
Do sit down or would you rather go into the lounge and I can call you when it’s ready.
’ Shut up, she told herself. Stop talking.
Clamping her mouth shut, she busied herself putting the kettle on and trying to get into the pack of spaghetti.
Since when had they put childproof packaging on pasta?
He leant back against the counter, watching her, and sipped at his wine.
‘You know you can get special slow dog bowls to stop them guzzling their food down.’
‘Really?’ Her fingers still wouldn’t work properly.
‘Yes. Just look them up on the internet. They work quite well.’ He put his glass down and gently removed the cellophane packet from her hand. ‘Here, let me.’
‘Thanks.’ She almost snatched the pasta from him when he was done. ‘I’m so going to get one for Tess.’
‘What sort of food do you give her?’
‘Vile horrible smelly biscuits.’ She nodded to the wooden pantry door. ‘They’re in there. You’ll smell them as soon as you open the door.’
‘Mind if I have a look?’
‘Be my guest.’ Him standing watching her was so unnerving.
The kettle had boiled and she filled a saucepan with the boiling water.
As she took the bolognese sauce out of the fridge, she heard rustling from inside the cupboard.
Devon was clearly taking this seriously.
At last he came out, a non-committal look on his face which clearly suggested he had a view but was trying to be diplomatic about it.
‘What?’ she asked a touch defensively.
‘Nothing.’ His face took on a guileless expression which didn’t fool her one bit.
‘What? And don’t give me nothing. You’ve got that look on your face.’
‘What look.’
‘The “I’m trying not to be patronising here but . . . ”’
‘That’s a look?’
‘Yes, that’s a look. One that know-it-all vets use on unsuspecting completely-new-at-this-dog-owning-lark people.’ She put her hands on her hips to emphasise her point.
‘Sorry.’ His apologetic grimace made her feel slightly better. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, but you could do better. It’s quite a cheap brand and nutritionally OK but they’re using the cheapest ingredients, so the quality’s not that great. It’s fine, don’t get me wrong—’
‘But . . . ’
‘Tess would probably be better off with a dog food designed for bigger dogs.’
One more thing to feel guilty about, except this time it wasn’t her fault. ‘To be honest, I just carried on buying what she was already having.’ Who’d have realised that talking dog food could be so usefully distracting?
Ella looked out at Tess, who was still cavorting in the garden with Dexter. She looked much slimmer than she had a couple of weeks ago. ‘I guess she’d have voted with her feet if she wasn’t happy. She’s a lot fitter than when I got her.’
‘You’ve done wonders with her. The difference is quite incredible. Now, she’s glossy, bouncy and the picture of health.’ His gaze rested on her face, the expression on his face gentling.
Butterflies took flight, racing upwards, a fluttering sensation in her chest as he tilted his head to one side, his mouth twisting with suppressed amusement and that damned dimple appeared in his cheek.
Ella found it impossible to turn away, even though she had no idea where to look. Devon stepped forward, closing the gap between them, allowing a smile to curve his lips.
‘I wasn’t very nice to you that day. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did.’ The searing appraisal he gave her made her breath catch. ‘You’ve changed, too. You look . . . ’
‘Glossy? Bouncy? The picture of health?’ Ella couldn’t help filling in the words. Why couldn’t she just shut up?
‘All of those but . . . something else.’ He studied her face. The careful scrutiny, like a caress, making her heart leap in response. ‘Different. Content. Happy.’ His hand lifted and where his eyes had tracked, with each word he traced along her jawline.
She swallowed. Oh boy. Her heart bumped. Warmth bloomed in her chest.
‘You look like you.’
‘Me?’ She whispered, her breath catching in her throat.