Chapter Ten
‘I come bearing fresh scones.’ Tamara pushed the shop door open and breezed in, swinging a white paper bag in her hand. ‘They’re my latest experiment for Christmas. Spiced cranberry walnut with a drizzle of cranberry icing.’
‘Oh, God. Not more food.’ Gage groaned. ‘I don’t mean to be unappreciative, but I’m still recovering from tackling the full roast beef dinner Evelyn plied me with last night.
She piled my plate so high it would’ve fed a crew of navvies.
After that came a gigantic bowl of apple crumble swimming in custard.
I’m afraid Evelyn saw feeding me as part of my recovery process and as you know she takes things very seriously. ’
‘I want to hear every detail. You can at least drink a cup of tea, right?’
‘Always.’
She breezed off to the kitchen and soon returned with two mugs. ‘Sit down and spill the beans.’
He took the drink from her and perched on a stool.
‘Was I right about Ophelia being stuck up and full of herself? I suppose they were polite around you? I don’t expect you found out why she came back to Penworthal when it’s obvious she and Evelyn don’t have much time for each other?’
An odd expression crossed Gage’s face.
‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’
The tips of his ears turned pink, but he didn’t blink. ‘Let’s leave it that I had a great meal and came away with a du Maurier first edition to read.’
‘Wow! You are honoured. You’ve definitely won Evelyn over.’ She angled a sly smile. ‘Ophelia, too? Was she less acerbic with you?’
‘We talked.’ Gage cleared his throat. ‘You might want to give her a second chance is all I’m saying.’
‘Okay.’ Tamara dragged out the word. She pulled a scone out of the bag and nibbled one end. ‘A little less spice next time and the walnuts need to be chopped finer.’
‘Have you always loved baking?’
‘Absolutely.’ Despite being mildly annoyed that he was determined to keep his counsel about Evelyn and Ophelia, she couldn’t resist telling him about her passion.
She started with her first inedible attempts, all the way through to creating her own recipes, and the dreams she had about making a living from them.
She felt herself flush. Not prettily, because she wasn’t made that way unfortunately, but the hot, mottled red sort of blush that took ages to fade away.
‘Don’t be embarrassed.’ Gage placed his hand over hers.
The sleeve of his jumper rode up a few inches to expose a dusting of fine dark hairs.
It reminded her of yesterday morning and his broad, muscular chest, memories of which had kept her awake long into the night.
Their eyes met and held. His sapphire-blue eyes bored into Tamara as he bent his head towards her.
Within kissing distance. At the last second, he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.
‘Tell me if I’m out of line.’ The timbre of his voice deepened and turned husky.
‘You’re not.’ Every negative thing she’d once believed about this man turned to dust.
Gage’s hand lifted to her face and a throaty moan slipped out of her as his stroking fingers set her skin on fire. ‘I thought I was more patient.’
‘Are you going to kiss me anytime soon?’ The breath left her body when his mouth pressed against hers, hot and needy.
The tip of Gage’s tongue thrust its way in and she was on fire, imagining what it would be like when they made love. When. Not if.
A shrill wolf-whistle, loud claps and ragged cheers made them spring apart, and Tamara jerked her head around to see a small gaggle of people gawping at them, a grinning Melissa at the forefront.
Why hadn’t it occurred to either of them that they were in full view of the shop window?
The sight of them in a clinch was a notch up from Penworthal’s normal Friday morning entertainment of watching the bin men come around.
Vernon Bull ambled over from the shop as well now, obviously afraid of missing out.
When she’d reassured Becky that her connection to Gage would soon be old news, Tamara hadn’t expected to be the one replacing it on the top-gossip spot.
‘The sooner this knee heals, the better,’ Gage murmured against her hot cheek.
He lifted a hand and waved to their fan club.
That spurred several people to move away, but now she spotted someone who hadn’t been visible before.
The very last person who needed to see her kissing someone he’d never even met, someone she’d assured him she didn’t even much like.
Toby’s white face and bulging eyes said it all.
‘Your son?’ By Gage’s flat voice, he sensed this was a disaster.
‘Yeah. That’s Toby.’ It raced through her head whether to go out and drag Toby in here, do the introductions and get it over with. But he sprinted off and was soon out of sight. If she chased after him, it might make things worse.
‘Hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’
‘Neither did I.’ She managed a feeble smile.
‘I’ll catch up with Toby later. It was a shock, that’s all.
Once I introduce you properly, he’ll be fine.
’ Would he though? He’d become more protective recently, as though it was his turn to look out for her.
Tamara pulled herself together. ‘We’d better get to work.
Show me how we’re going to shelve these books according to your master spreadsheet. ’
‘I love it when you get all take-charge on me.’ His brows knotted together.
‘That’s not me making fun of you either.
Women weren’t allowed to fight in the Royal Marines until 2018, and many blokes I served with were dead set against it.
I never understood why they felt so threatened.
To my mind, anyone who could pass the bloody hard training deserved to wear the green beret and play their full part. You’d have done great.’
‘Me?’
‘It would’ve suited you down to the ground.’
Tamara’s face heated. ‘I think that’s the best compliment any man’s ever given me. I’m not the red-roses-and-fancy-perfume type, but tell me you think I could do a route march with a heavy backpack and slog through mud, and I’m your girl.’ She beamed. ‘Now, Prof, let’s get busy with those books.’
* * *
A sharp rap on the front door stirred Gage from his thoughts.
He’d been brooding over where this morning’s kiss had left him and Tamara.
His determination to keep her at a safe, friendly distance had flown out the window.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
His ex-wife had once called him emotionally closed-off.
She claimed he hid behind the macho culture of the Royal Marines, where, in her view, his inadequacies were seen as a plus rather than a hindrance.
But Ophelia’s comment crept back into his brain.
If she could see beneath his stoic surface, to what she’d called the ‘marshmallow’ underneath, perhaps Victoria was wrong?
He really hoped so, because if not he’d probably screw up with Tamara too. That thought was unbearable.
He pushed out of the chair and tucked the crutches securely under his arms before hobbling out into the hall. Evelyn stood on the doorstep and gave him a tight smile.
‘Are you checking up on me to make sure I haven’t damaged your valuable book?’
‘Hardly, Mr Bennet.’ She held out a stout, ornately carved walking stick. ‘I bought this on my hiking holiday in the Alps and thought you might find it useful.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’
‘I would like a quick word if it’s not inconvenient?’
‘Uh, no, of course not. Come in.’ Gage’s heart sank as he stood back to let her step inside.
It didn’t take a genius to guess why she was here.
He’d learned how to deal with hostile enemy interrogations in the marines, but had the feeling Evelyn might be a match for anything he threw at her. ‘May I take your coat?’
‘I shan’t be staying long.’ She propped the stick up by the coat stand in the hall and followed him into the living room.
Gage gestured for Evelyn to take a seat on the sofa and commandeered his usual chair.
‘I’ll get straight to the point because I believe it’s far better to be honest. Not that it’s always appreciated.
’ She shrugged. ‘Ophelia doesn’t care for it.
She never did.’ Evelyn fixed him with what Tamara referred to as her headteacher stare.
‘Are you going to tell me what she’s being so secretive about? ’
‘No.’
His swift response visibly took her aback.
‘Even if I knew the full story — which I don’t — it’s not my place to share it. If you’re such a proponent of honest conversation, why don’t you try it with your sister?’
‘You don’t understand. The history between us is . . . difficult.’ Her penetrating eyes studied him. ‘I suspect you’ve heard speculation around the village. Mostly down to the oh-so-reliable Mr Bull, who knows Ophelia of old.’
He couldn’t deny it without lying.
‘Suffice to say, there’s been no love lost between us for a very long time.’ She looked wistful. ‘There’s the chance I’ve been wrong about something, but I don’t think so. Ophelia has made it clear she’s only here now because she has no choice, but why is that?’
Gage gave her credit for persistence. ‘Ask her.’
Evelyn scoffed. ‘You think I haven’t?’
‘Ophelia needs you right now, but the two of you are equally stubborn and she won’t beg.’ He spread his hands on his thighs. ‘That’s all I’m saying.’
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘No wonder Tamara’s losing her head over you.’
‘I think you’re jumping the gun there. We’re . . .’ His voice trailed away and he made do with a shrug. How could he explain when he didn’t understand it himself yet?
Two pink circles blossomed on Evelyn’s cheeks. ‘If I were thirty years younger, or the reverse, you’re the sort of man who’d catch my eye.’
‘But think how jealous poor Quinten would be. You strike me as the sort of lady who could cope with both your sister’s challenges and a lover without too much difficulty, so why are you shutting him out? Martyrdom isn’t an attractive trait.’
For a second she looked stunned, before shaking her head and seeming to gather herself. ‘Time I went home, I think, Mr Bennet. You’ve certainly given me food for thought.’
Mission accomplished.
* * *
Tamara crept into the house and latched the door quietly behind her.
She kicked off her shoes and hung up her wet mac before shaking her hair out of the scrappy ponytail she’d pulled it back in for work.
A sliver of light came into the hall from the living room, and she wondered if Gage was awake or had fallen asleep with the light on.
Her routine after a long day on her feet was to make a cup of tea and take it up to bed.
But wouldn’t it be unfriendly not to offer him one too?
She chuckled to herself. They’d gone past ‘friendly’ this morning.
It bothered her to be alienated from Toby.
She’d give him a ring tomorrow and try to smooth the troubled waters between them.
This was silly. Apart from anything else, Gage was a guest in her house and it was nothing more than a perfectly normal gesture to see if he needed anything. She tapped on the door. ‘I’m back. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Come on in. I promise I’m decent.’ His deep voice throbbed with amusement and she blushed, remembering their encounter in the kitchen yesterday. And their kiss earlier.
Tamara walked in and found him sitting in the chair, reading.
They’d decided to leave the sofa-bed set-up during the day, so he didn’t have to struggle doing it himself or wait for her to help.
It made the room seem even smaller and after this morning’s kiss, it was impossible not to picture him stretched out in the bed. ‘Studying up on Daphne’s writing?’
‘Yeah, it’s pretty good so far. I love discovering new authors and I’d probably have never tried her if it wasn’t for her number-one fan.’
‘Evelyn will expect a report when you’re done. Just like at school.’
‘That wouldn’t surprise me. She was . . . quite vociferous when she trusted me with the book.’
She sensed him holding something back, but chose not to press.
‘Busy night at the pub?’
A tired sigh slipped out. ‘It always is and Christos isn’t much help. He spends more time chatting up female customers than he does working.’
‘You must be exhausted.’
‘I’m used to long days,’ Tamara said determinedly.
‘Nathan rang me earlier. I’m not sure how he managed it, but he talked me into joining the Proper Choughed quiz team tonight.’
Tamara snorted. ‘You might live to regret that. The Back of Beyond Brains are formidable. We’ve got a three-game lead this year over Proper Choughed and as it’s Halloween night, we’ll be out for blood.’ She bared her teeth.
‘I’ll remember to bring garlic and a wooden stake.’
‘You do know costumes are obligatory?’
‘Yeah, no problem,’ he said blithely.
She recognised a lie when she heard one. ‘Really?’ She smirked. ‘You don’t strike me as the dressing-up type.’
‘I’ll have you know my karaoke tribute to John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever routine was the hit of the 2008 Christmas show in Kabul.’ As the words left his mouth, she guessed he wished them unsaid. ‘But with this gammy knee, my dancing days are over.’
‘A full performance won’t be required, but you in a tight, white suit could throw us ladies off our game. Take one for the team, Gage.’
‘I might consider it if you channel your inner Sandy from Grease — not when she’s all sweet, but—’
‘Tight black leather and attitude. And here was me thinking you weren’t another predictable man.’ She gave a playful sigh.
‘What can I say?’
‘I’ll give it some thought.’ Far too much probably. ‘Right. How about that cup of tea? You’ve got to try a scone too and no excuses about being full from last night.’ She disappeared into the kitchen and soon returned with a laden tray. ‘There you go.’
‘Thanks.’ He gave the scone a wary look.
‘Don’t tell me. You’re one of the rare men who doesn’t like sweet things?’
‘Okay, I won’t.’
‘Won’t what?’
‘Tell you you’re spot on and therefore make you mad at me.’ Gage shrugged, as though it was his lot in life to put people’s backs up.
‘Relax. I prefer honesty, remember?’
He picked up the scone and cautiously took a bite, then another. ‘It’s not bad. Not too sweet, although I’d probably—’
‘Prefer it without the icing.’
‘Well, yeah. Sorry.’
‘Nothing to be sorry for. We’re all different. At least I won’t have to fight you for the thickly iced corners of Christmas cake.’ She licked her lips. ‘They’re my absolute favourite.’
Gage shuddered.
Next thing they were both laughing and Tamara felt back on safer ground.