Chapter Four
CHAPTER
FOUR
When the sound of movement downstairs woke Beth the following morning, she blinked, stretched her limbs and sighed, her lips curving into a contented smile. She’d slept like the dead, thanks to the world’s most comfortable mattress and the gloriously soft sheets she lay between.
Yesterday, when she’d arrived at the Heart Country B when she finally bought her cottage, she’d decorate it just like this.
But she had a rundown old house to fix up and sell first.
And with that sobering thought, she padded across the hallway and into the dining room.
Just as she’d anticipated, breakfast had been cleared away, but a water dispenser and bowl of fruit sat on the sideboard.
Not wanting to break any rules, she glanced around for some kind of indication that she could help herself.
After all, these things could’ve been left here for any number of reasons.
Who knew? Maybe Ellie was hosting a function later.
But with no one to ask and no clue of what was expected of her, she opted to fill a glass and grab an apple, then hightailed it into the kitchen so she wouldn’t get caught.
Belatedly, she wondered whether the kitchen was a no-go zone for guests.
It wouldn’t surprise her if there were health and safety regulations she was supposed to abide by.
But making an assumption about B&B etiquette, she figured that washing, drying and putting away her glass was the right thing to do.
Standing in front of the sink, she drained her water and took a bite from the apple.
Just as she did, the squeak of a screen door opening had her spinning around and, like a deer in the headlights, she stood frozen, stupidly clutching her empty glass and the apple, her cheeks bulging with a mouthful of fruit.
Time slowed as a man, wearing dusty jeans and carrying a large crate in front of him, stepped inside.
‘Hey, Elle. Got your ehhggz—’ He stopped short when he noticed Beth, halting so suddenly that the contents of his crate rattled.
Crap. She definitely wasn’t meant to be in here, that much was clear.
Raising a finger to beg a moment, she frantically masticated her mouthful so she could swallow it, apologise, and get the hell out of there.
As she did, the man’s lips curved into a grin, and he stepped forward and placed the crate on the stainless steel workbench in the centre of the kitchen.
His gaze dropped briefly, taking in her outfit, before tracking up to her face once more.
He pushed the crate aside and planted his hands on the bench.
The sleeves of his dark blue flannelette shirt were rolled to his elbows, revealing tanned forearms that momentarily distracted her from her guilt.
If Ellie was the epitome of small-town sweetheart, this guy was ‘ruggedly handsome farmer’.
Finally, Beth swallowed the now thoroughly chewed piece of apple, opened her mouth and …
Forgot how to speak.
The man arched a brow. ‘You’re a guest?’
She nodded.
He dipped his chin and leaned forward, his tone serious like he was about to divulge a secret.‘You know you’re not allowed back here, right?’
‘Oh! I-I’m sorry, I, uh …’ What was she doing here again? ‘Oh! I-I just came in to clean this.’
She lifted her hand, the one holding the glass, and watched in horror as it slipped from her fingers and flew into the air.
She reached for it, desperately. Because what if Ellie walked in right now and assumed Beth was pitching the thing at her boyfriend?
Or maybe he was Ellie’s husband. They’d probably kick Beth to the kerb, which would be downright devastating given she really, really, wanted to slip between those lusciously soft sheets again.
Despite her best efforts, Beth’s fingertips only pushed the glass further along its trajectory as it arced across the room.
‘Noah!’
Ellie’s voice rang out and time resumed its normal rhythm. The glass hit the tiled floor and smashed, shards of it skittering into the farthest corners of the kitchen.
Ellie, hands raised and mouth agape, was clearly shocked to find a guest throwing glassware.
Beth stared at her, appalled, waiting for her host to start yelling and demanding that she vacate the premises.
Then a muffled snort came from the newcomer, Noah. He pressed his lips together as if he were trying not to laugh and flicked his gaze between Beth and Ellie and back again. Probably waiting to see who’d combust first.
Ellie pointed a finger at Beth, causing her to flinch, but when she spoke, her words were completely unexpected. ‘Don’t move, I’ve got this covered.’
Disappearing, she came back with a broom and began sweeping up the glass. As she cleared a path towards Beth, Ellie pointed at Noah. ‘And you,’ she admonished, ‘don’t you dare accost my guest!’
Noah raised his hands, the picture of innocence.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Ellie said, turning to Beth. ‘My cousin uses the back entrance for a reason. He knows he’s not allowed to interact with the lodgers.’ She punctuated her words with a meaningful glare at Noah.
‘That’s right. I’m the black sheep of the family.’ He grinned and made his way around the kitchen island, glass crunching under his boots. Taking the broom from Ellie, he leaned towards Beth. ‘They only let me leave the farm once a week to deliver eggs.’
He winked at her and stole the breath from her lungs. His eyes were blue, she noticed, the colour of the ocean when you were a long way from shore. And she caught his scent, something like oiled leather and hay.
Blood rushed to Beth’s cheeks as Noah set about clearing the rest of the mess she’d made. She prayed her blush would settle before either he or Ellie noticed.