Chapter Twenty – Rose
ROSE
Expect the Unexpected
W hat the fuck was wrong with me?
Why could I not keep my hands off that bloody man?
Was there really any need for me to drop to my knees and suck his cock like a ice lolly on a hot day? In my shed , no less!
My she shed!
My sacred space!
It was now tainted. Ruined. Forever the place of a dirty, steamy hook-up with the person I hated most in this world.
The person I simply couldn’t stay away from.
And, God, how I wished I could. How I wished I could never speak to him again, never see him again, never touch him again.
All of those things were, of course, in my power. All I had to do was exercise a little thing called self-control whenever I was around him and, boom! Just like magic, I’d never touch him again.
Not speaking to him was tough, given the current situation and the fact he owned the land I technically managed as the committee chair, and never seeing him again was simply out of the question.
Unless he went back to his business and life in London. Then I’d probably see him once a year, maybe, if I was unlucky.
But why did the thought of that make my stomach tighten almost uncomfortably?
Did I… want to see him?
No. That was absurd. There was no way. I couldn’t possibly want to see this man.
Then, why…
Ugh .
Thank God I’d never voice these thoughts to anyone, because I was pissing myself off with all the flip-flopping I had going on. It felt as though I was in a pantomime with my emotions with the whole, “Oh, yes, it is,” “Oh, no, it isn’t,” bullshit that was parading through my head right now.
Perhaps my life would be easier if I just admitted that I didn’t truly hate Oliver. I hated what he was doing, but I didn’t hate him . Despite how many times I tried to tell myself that he was a horrible, uncaring, awful person, I knew the truth was that he wasn’t that kind of man at all.
In fact, he was the opposite.
He was only selling the allotments because he cared about his family’s historic estate.
His care wasn’t directed in the place I wished it was, but wasn’t that just life? Things didn’t always go your way, and it was a really sucky thing when that happened, but there was nothing you could do about it. I couldn’t do any more than I was already doing right now.
I was close to exhausting all my options to fight the closure. For the first time in my life, I was out of ideas to make someone’s life hell. Between the media exposure we’d gained through the protest and what we would get locally with the upcoming craft fair, I suspected we’d maxed that out.
There was even only so many times I could bring it up on our social media. Everyone fancied themselves a philanthropist, but the truth was, nobody cared . Not enough to do anything about it, and the reason why was simple.
When our allotments closed and our page became obsolete, someone else would simply come along and take my place. Another account would appear with content similar enough that it would scratch the itch, and Hanbury Allotments would be forgotten.
Did it suck that all the work I’d put into that stupid, amazing account and its community was going to amount to nothing?
Yes.
It sucked.
Updating the page was a part of my daily routine, and it showcased us all. Young, old, furry, feathered… It was a collection of our memories, a real-time photo album, and no longer having that left an emptiness in my heart that I couldn’t quite fill.
Nothing would fill it.
Nothing would replace the allotments.
For the first time since this all began a few weeks ago, the reality of the situation was almost too much for me to bear.
Oliver wasn’t going to change his mind.
I wouldn’t stop fighting, no matter how futile it was.
But in the end, he would win. He had the legal standing and the money to do something about it.
All we had was hope.
Unfortunately, hope wasn’t a currency, and it wouldn’t buy us the land our precious plots sat on.
But moping like this didn’t do me any good, either. I wasn’t exactly a patient person—my grandmother used to say I was a real go-getter, but I wasn’t sure that was a compliment from a woman who strung along two men and married the one who was better in bed.
Then again, she might have been onto something.
Not that I had plans to string anyone along. Nor was I in need of sex. I’d had far too much of that with the wrong person lately, and I had the mark under a plaster on my neck to prove it. I certainly wasn’t going to marry Oliver just because he was a MENSA-level genius between the sheets.
I’d just have to make do with a lifetime of wet dreams.
“Rose?”
I jolted at the sharp tap on the van’s window and turned to see Eleanor’s face practically pressed against it.
Talk about a jump scare.
At least this was the de Havilland I didn’t mind seeing right now.
I lowered the window and greeted her with a smile. “Morning, Eleanor.”
“Morning, love. I didn’t scare you, did I?”
Yes, actually. You scared what little sanity I have left right out of me.
Not that I was going to say that out loud.
“Startled me a bit,” I settled on, somewhat truthfully. “I was in my own little world. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just finished ordering a regular bouquet delivery to spruce up my bedroom and saw you here. How about a cup of tea?”
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I have some time before my next client. Make it a coffee, and I’m all yours for a little bit.”
“A girl after my own heart. I’m a bit tea’d out after my recent jaunt through East Asia. It wasn’t forced on me, but I did rather make it my personal business to try as many different types as I could.”
I didn’t understand the fascination with tea. Susan was always telling me that I just hadn’t found the right tea yet, but who had the time for that?
If I was going to look for anything, it’d be a hot sugar daddy who’d fall for me at first sight and gift me the allotment ownership papers in place of an engagement ring.
I hopped out of the van and locked her behind me, following Eleanor towards the coffee shop on the corner. She nattered on about her recent trip, but I was only half-listening.
And she knew.
Nothing much got past this woman, so I didn’t bother hide it at all.
I’d learnt well from my mother in that it was utterly useless to hide my inattention, but Eleanor didn’t seem to care.
I suspected she just wanted to talk about her trip to someone who wasn’t going to ask her to stop, and I needed to listen to something other than the sound of my own voice inside my head.
I was only talking myself into circles, and God only knew the voices were crazy enough without me making them dizzy.
We ordered our coffees, with Eleanor beating me to paying, and took a cosy corner table away from the busiest part of the shop.
“Well, thank you for letting me ramble on about that,” she said. “Even though you weren’t truly listening.”
I winced, but she only responded with a grin.
“At least you pretended to. Do you know what that darling son of mine does? He grunts and goes, ‘Yes, Mother, it sounds lovely, but can you tell me later?’ Which simply translates to, ‘I have no idea what you’re prattling on about, so do bugger off.”
“Huh. He just tells me to shut up,” I mused.
She laughed, stirring her coffee. “That’s because you’re under his skin, dear.”
“I don’t want to be under his anything, thank you very much.”
“Oh, come now, we both know that isn’t true.” She leant in conspiratorially, as if we were plotting to go all Guy Fawkes on the government, and the twinkle in her eye made me want to run away. “I know everything.”
I sincerely hoped she didn’t.
I coughed into my fist, looking away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy. I can only imagine how much you have on your mind knowing that you’d met before he arrived in Hanbury.”
Oh.
That.
She knew about the one-night stand… Or she’d put two and two together after finding out we already knew each other.
“Yes, well…” I trailed off, turning my attention to my coffee. “It’s hardly an ideal situation to find oneself in.”
“Indeed, indeed.” She paused. “Especially since you seem to know one another very well.”
I looked at her sharply. I knew what she was implying. She absolutely knew what we’d done in his office that day.
Please, God, never let her find out about the shed.
I would take the shed sex to my grave.
Not even Isadora would ever discover that dirty little escapade.
“Now, I’m not meddling,” she quickly said. “You’re both grown adults, and what your relationship is is your business, but I do have one teeny, tiny, little question.”
I wasn’t going to like that question, was I?
Barely holding back a groan, I said, “Go on.”
“What are the chances of you becoming my daughter-in-law?”
And just like that, I choked on the mouthful of coffee my stupid arse had just taken.
“Lower than zero,” I croaked out, gratefully accepting the napkin she offered so I could wipe away the bits that had exploded out of my mouth.
“That’s a shame. I think you could keep that wayward little bugger in line.”
“Yes, because I’m doing such a wonderful job of making him listen to me right now,” I said dryly.
She waved her hand. “Every man is trainable, dear.”
“If I wanted a dog, I’d go and adopt one,” I replied. “So, thank you, but I think I’ll pass. Hopefully, your future daughter-in-law is a gardening-hating, city-dwelling young lady who will keep your ‘wayward little bugger’ in London, never mind in line.”
“Dear me, Rose. If you keep talking like that, I might start thinking that you actually do dislike him.”
“What was it you said a few minutes ago? It was our business and you weren’t going to meddle?” I raised my eyebrows, smiling teasingly.
She paused before quickly shrugging and brushing it off as if she’d never said such a thing. “You’re too smart for me.”
I was for many people, but my mother told me that wasn’t something I should say out loud.