Ruff Around the Edges in Seagull Bay (Love in Seagull Bay #8)

Chapter 1

Closing the front door behind him, Marcus took a moment to appreciate where he was.

This was still his first year of living in Seagull Bay, and his new home town was still everything he ever hoped it would be.

Inhaling slowly, the now familiar scents of the bay welcomed him.

It was the unmistakable smell of salty air carried on the warm morning breeze that he loved the most.

Seagulls squawked down by the seafront, and Marcus smiled to himself as he visualised Ben, the local fishmonger, in his usual spot near the steps leading down onto the beach, waving away the pesky gulls, even though he was his own worst enemy, because at the end of his working day, Ben always threw leftover scraps to the squabble of gulls which were never far from his cart.

Marcus turned his head to look at the local estate agent’s sign lying flat on the grass, just inside his fence.

The red sold italics emblazoned across the front of it, had started to fade from sun exposure.

He made a mental note to call the estate agents to have them come and collect the sign—yet another thing to add to his already lengthy to-do list. The small cottage he bought from Morgan, had legally been his for a few months now, so why the estate agents hadn’t collected the sign, was beyond him.

Marcus walked the short distance to his front gate, noticing how dowdy it was compared to his neighbours’ gates.

Like his windows, it desperately needed a lick of paint.

Pausing before opening it, he turned around to look back at the terraced cottage he now called home.

It was equally as small as the cottages adjacent and opposite, and equally as cosy, yet it was desperately in need of TLC inside and out, the kitchen and bathroom high on the priority list for updates.

Marcus had found out that although Morgan had owned the house for decades before him, she’d rarely stayed there, choosing to live at the local pub, The Cheese Wedge and Pickles, with her widowed brother-in-law, to support him.

Wisteria was in full bloom, framing the front door and windows with huge bunches of floral grapes, their flora heavy in the air.

The blooms were exquisite, but they did nothing to hide the peeling paint on both the front door and the window frames, all of which needed a coat of paint, even more so than the gate.

Marcus sighed heavily. He really did need to make a start on renovations, but with his new business becoming busier by the week, his new home had been put on the back-burner.

Still, he would have to make time—even if it meant spending his evenings stripping thick, decades-old wallpaper.

However, for the bigger renovations—a new bathroom and kitchen—he’d hire in professionals—when he got a minute, that was.

The sun was already blazing high in the sky, promising another scorcher of a day—not that Marcus would have much time to appreciate it—only the ten-minute walking distance from his cottage to his dog-grooming parlour down in the bay.

Usually, it was only Georgina who got the benefit of catching a few rays of sunshine in the short distance from the parlour to Tammy’s Tearoom, when fetching their lunch.

Marcus tried to remember what the bookings were like today.

With his hands pushed casually into the pockets of his chinos, he chewed his bottom lip as he made his way down hill, towards the seafront, where he could already see brightly clothed tourists milling about.

He had an Afghan Hound booked in first for a bath and a brushing, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, booked in next to have her ears cleaned, the appointment after that was nail trimming for a Pekingese and finally, the last booking of the morning, was a Pomeranian needing a very meticulous and time-consuming cut.

Marcus shook his head slightly, no, he definitely wouldn’t have time to step out before lunch, he doubted he’d have time in the afternoon either—even with Georgina taking on half the burden of the bookings.

He was so appreciative of his now, full-time employee.

Georgina was the daughter of Tom, the plumber who’d installed all the wash stations in the dog-grooming parlour, when it was converted from a large unused storage room, into a brand new dog-grooming parlour by Tom’s fiancée, Christine.

Marcus had rented the dog-grooming parlour from Christine from the start.

It was his second business premises, after his first was destroyed in a freak accident involving a lorry.

Thank goodness the shop had been closed at the time.

The premises had needed months to fix, but with an established client base, Marcus had needed somewhere fast. That’s when he’d come across Seagull Bay.

It had been the best decision of his life.

Looking out at the shimmering ocean, Marcus sighed with contentment. Seagull Bay was his oasis—his saviour, his anchor had been dropped, and there was nothing or no one who could move his boat along.

Passing the florist on the way to his parlour, Marcus looked down at the large buckets of flowers already bunched together in beautiful bouquets, each one lovingly arranged, and wrapped in pretty cellophane. The aroma was addictive.

Marcus grinned. He’d get a bunch for Georgina.

She’d already stayed over her time twice this week, and the way things were going, Marcus could see there being a third day.

Choosing the prettiest bunch, with pink roses and lilacs, and a spray of gypsophila paniculata, amongst other flowers, complementing each other.

As he opened the door to the florist, his olfactory glands went into overdrive, as the floral fragrance washed over him.

‘Good morning, Marcus.’ Mrs Flownder looked at the bouquet in Marcus’s hands.

‘Aha, good choice. Someone’s birthday, or are you trying to disguise the wet dog smell in your parlour? ’

Marcus laughed, his shoulders jumping up and down. ‘I happen to love pungent doggy odour, and no, the flowers are just a thank you for Georgina. She’s worked like a trooper these past few months.’

Mrs Flownder nodded as she rang up the price of the bouquet onto her till.

‘They are all a hardworking family—Tom, Georgina and Georgina’s sister, Francis too—just like yourself Marcus.

Now and again, someone needs to buy you the odd bouquet.

In fact, all of us need flowers now and again to feel appreciated. ’

Marcus scoffed and then smiled, Mrs Flownder didn’t know the half of it.

He was acquiring muscles in places he didn’t even know existed from all the man-handling of large pooches.

He waved away her comment and dug into his pocket for his bank card, presenting it to Mrs Flownder, who in turn, lifted her card machine.

‘Yes, I agree. I think we all want a bunch of flowers Mrs Flownder, or even a rosette will do.’ He shoved his card back into his pocket. ‘By the way, how are your sisters, Hattie and Suzie? I haven’t seen them helping out in here for a while.’

Mrs Flownder’s grin widened. ‘They only really help out when I’m run off my feet, or if I can’t be here. Marcus noticed she hesitated before she spoke. ‘Hattie’s single you know, Marcus.’

Marcus couldn’t stop his brow from shooting up and almost touching his hairline. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Erm, it hasn’t gone unnoticed by all the single ladies in the bay, that you have become the most eligible bachelor living here.’

Marcus almost coughed on the lungful of air he drew in. He quickly looked up at the clock on the wall behind Mrs Flownder. ‘Oh, is that the time! Sorry, I’m in a rush, Georgina will be waiting for me.’

Without waiting for a reply, Marcus headed for the door, raising a hand in a farewell gesture as he literally ran out, almost bumping into Mrs Calloway.

‘I do beg your apology, Mrs Calloway, I didn’t see you.’

‘Not to worry, Marcus, dear.’ Mrs Calloway’s eagle eyes landed on the colourful bouquet, even though Marcus was doing his best to hide it from her. ‘Ooooh! Who are they for? New lady in your life?’

‘Erm... Sorry, must dash!’

Marcus couldn’t get away fast enough.

He closed his eyes briefly, and inhaled, his nostrils flaring.

If only they knew.

The only person who knew was Christine, and for now, that was the way he wanted to keep it.

THE SMELL OF WET DOG as he pushed open the door was indeed the odour that greeted him. He could hear Georgina over by the wash station, talking sweetly to her first client of the day.

‘There you are, little pooch. How is that?’

Marcus turned his head to the left, to the seated waiting area. A lady whose pet must have been Georgina’s first client, was thumbing the screen of her phone. She looked up and smiled. ‘Morning.’

‘Good morning,’ he replied.

She instantly dropped her head back to her phone, her attention immediately focused on what was on the screen.

Marcus didn’t recognise her, but he wasn’t surprised, he was getting more new clients every week, usually from recommendations.

The phone rang. ‘I’ll get it!’ He called out. ‘And, good morning, by the way, Georgina.’

‘Oh, thank goodness. It hasn’t stopped ringing, Marcus. I’ve already taken three bookings, and I’ve only been here fifteen minutes... Sorry, good morning to you, too.’

Marcus headed for the phone, doing his best to keep the bouquet out of Georgina’s line of sight.

‘Good morning, Ruff to Regal, how can I help you? A wash and nail cut...’ Marcus opened the appointment book and flipped through the pages.

He was surprised at how booked the week already was.

He returned his attention to the caller, his voice bright and cheerful.

‘I have an 11 o’clock on Wednesday... And what’s your pet’s name?

Okay, that’s booked. Thank you. See you then. ’

He blew out from puffed up cheeks. At this rate, he’d have to contemplate hiring someone else part-time.