Читать книгу Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection - Джанис Мейнард, Rebecca Winters - Страница 19

Chapter Ten

We were knee-deep in kitchen utensils and Michael’s face had taken on a bewildered look.

‘I don’t even know what this is. It looks like something liberated from a medieval torture chamber.’

I glanced up. He was peering at a scissor-like contraption with a half dome on each end. His fingers worked the mechanism and the two halves came together to form a globe.

‘I think it’s a meat baller.’

He looked at me, blankly.

‘You know. For making meatballs.’

‘She never once made meatballs. She barely ever cooked at all, actually. I can’t believe there’s all this stuff in here.’

‘Kitchen gadget catalogues can be very enticing.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. They make things sound so good that you wonder how you’ve lived without these wonderful inventions for so long.’

‘Oh.’ He paused, looking back at the item hooked on his finger and thumb again. ‘So do you have a meat baller?’ He snapped the ends together a couple of times and I giggled.

‘I do not.’

‘Do you want one?’

‘I don’t. Thanks all the same.’

‘Not much of a meatball maker then?’ He pulled the gadget off his fingers and tossed it into a box for donation.

‘I just use my hands.’

‘Usually the best tools,’ he said. ‘Do you cook a lot?’

‘When I get time. And have the inclination.’

He nodded acceptance. ‘Did your mum teach you how to cook?’

I cleared my throat a little. ‘No, not really. She wasn’t really much of a cook. I taught myself really. It’s not rocket science. If you can watch telly and you can read, then you can usually make something edible.’

‘That’s true.’

We continued in silence for a few more moments.

‘You said “wasn’t ”.’

‘Huh?’

‘You said “wasn’t”. Is your mum not around any more?’

‘No, she died about ten years ago.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘And your dad?’

‘He lives abroad. I don’t see him.’

Michael nodded, obviously getting the point that this wasn’t a subject I wanted to talk about. For some reason, I wanted to tell him not to take it personally and that I didn’t really talk about any of this stuff with anyone. Janey was an exception but I’d only told her everything accidentally thanks to a second bottle of wine and a particularly crappy day.

‘Do you cook?’ I asked, then glanced up at the state of the kitchen. ‘When you can find the oven, of course?’

He gave me a tilted head, you’re-being-a-smart-arse type of look and smiled.

‘I’m not bad. Ma taught us all, wanting to make sure that we didn’t starve when she sent us out into the world.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Yeah, I don’t mind it actually. Although I’m kind of rusty at the moment. I’ve not really done a lot for a while. I’m going to have to brush up if I’m to make anything decent for Christmas dinner.’

‘I’m sure the others will help you out if you get stuck.’

‘Probably. Or they may just sit and enjoy watching me struggle and squirm. You know, like brothers and sisters do.’

I smiled. I didn’t know.

Michael picked up on my non-committal reply. ‘No siblings?’

I shook my head.

‘Did you not find that lonely growing up?’

‘That’s everything from those drawers,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘Do you want to start going through them and see what you think you might want to keep?’

Michael gave me a long look, aware that I had blatantly directed the conversation away from anything personal and back to work.

‘OK,’ he said, eventually. ‘On the proviso that you’re able to tell me what most of these things are so that I can make an informed decision.’

I smiled, trying to make up for having blanked his question about my childhood. ‘I can certainly try.’

A short while later, Michael had just stepped out to take a call and was returning when my own phone, still tucked in my bag, began to ring. Engaged in trying to find all the parts of a cutlery set, I had my head down, knowing for sure that I’d seen a bunch of teaspoons around here somewhere.

‘Do you want me to grab that?’ Michael called from the hallway.

‘If you like,’ I answered, distractedly. ‘Aha! There you are!’ I said, fishing out four teaspoons from under an upturned clay flowerpot.

‘Holy shit!’

I looked up at his exclamation.

‘Whatever’s the…Oh no! No no no!’ My horrified expression met his amused one as he entered the kitchen. In one hand he held my phone, which had by now stopped ringing, and in the other the bag I’d taken from Mrs B for safekeeping.

I snapped out of my shock and scrambled over, snatching the bag from his hand.

‘It fell out when I grabbed the phone. Sorry.’ He didn’t sound sorry. At all. ‘It’s always the quiet ones, they say.’

‘They’re not mine.’ I faced him and drew myself up. ‘And even if they were, I’d have nothing to be ashamed about.’

‘That’s true. You’re a modern, emancipated woman. Who looks ever so cute when she blushes.’

‘Arrgh!’ I gave him a shove to move him from the doorway and rammed the plastic bag down to the bottom of my tote. His laughter followed me out to the hallway and I couldn’t help the smile that formed at the sound of it.

Returning to the kitchen, I went back to what I had been doing. Two minutes later, Michael spoke.

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously, what?’ I asked, looking up at him.

He gave a nod towards the hallway. ‘You’re not going to explain that?’

‘Nope.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘What?’

‘Are they yours?’

‘I already told you they weren’t.’

‘I know, but I thought you were maybe just being defensive, being caught on the hop, so to speak.’

‘No, they’re not. But even so, if I want to tote around a bag full of Ann Summers’ best, then surely that’s up to me?’ I was doing my best to keep a straight face, but the odd thing was, contrary to what I had ever believed possible at our first meeting, I was enjoying the banter with him.

‘Absolutely. And it certainly explains one thing?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Why you’re not so bothered about the fact you don’t see your boyfriend all that much.’

I narrowed my eyes at him.

‘Perhaps I could leave one of them here. You know, just in case? We wouldn’t want any of your “visitors”,’ I made the quotes in the air with my fingers, ‘leaving disappointed.’

His mouth pulled to the side a little, amused. ‘Oh, don’t you be worrying about that.’

‘Just trying to help.’

‘Of course you are.’

I smiled and put my head down to get back to work.

Michael was emptying the taller cupboards, as instructed. His height meant he didn’t have to use a stepladder like I did, so the process was much quicker. But two minutes later he broke the silence again.

‘Oh come on Katie! This is killing me!’

I turned from wiping out the now empty cutlery drawer to where Michael was now leaning on his worktop, piles of crockery surrounding him.

‘What is?’

‘Why you’re carrying all that…stuff. Do you have another job I’m unaware of?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Why do you care?’

‘Because I’m interested in you.’

The smile on my face faltered for a moment. ‘Why?’

‘What do you mean, why? It’s not every day a woman walks into my house, secretly armed for combat.’

Why I thought he was being anything than intrigued at the situation, I don’t know. Although the bigger question currently bouncing around my brain was about the weird feeling I’d got when he’d clarified his area of interest. If I didn’t know better, I’d have called it disappointment, which was ridiculous. Of course, I wasn’t disappointed that my client’s interest in me didn’t go any deeper…It was fine. More than fine. Ideal, in fact. And hardly surprising, anyway. All right, Michael O’Farrell and I were definitely in a better place than we had been, but we weren’t exactly best buddies, and he certainly wouldn’t be interested in me. It was clear that his interests, when it came to women, were of the knockout stunning kind and although I did OK, I definitely wasn’t anywhere near that category. And I generally liked my relationships to last more than one night which was another thing we disagreed on, apparently. And he drove me nuts. And I drove him nuts. So…what was I even doing thinking about all this stuff?

‘Katie?’

‘Huh?’

‘You were miles away.’ He almost looked concerned.

‘Oh…no. I was just thinking of…um…’

Michael raised an eyebrow and I could see the grin he was struggling to stifle.

‘For goodness’ sake. They are a client’s, OK? Sometimes, when people can’t quite decide as to whether there is something they should throw away, I’ll keep it for a few weeks until their head is a little clearer on it and then they decide. Admittedly, it’s usually something like a wedding album or a bunch of old love letters, but I am nothing if not adaptable.’

‘So I see.’

‘Do you think you can focus on something else now?’

‘I don’t know. I have to say it was all quite shocking for a man of my delicate disposition. I might need a lie down. If you could see yourself to placing a cool flannel on my head and saying “there, there” occasionally, I might just recover.’

‘I can see myself saying a lot more than that if you don’t get your backside in gear in the next thirty seconds.’

‘A man’s got to try,’ he said, opening another cupboard and reaching in to begin emptying it. ‘I wouldn’t want you to say I wasn’t trying.’

‘Somehow, I highly doubt anyone would ever say that about you.’

***

‘Is this him?’ I asked Mark as we approached the kennel.

‘It is. Meet Rooney. What do you think?’

My smile gave him the answer.

‘He’s had a behaviour test and come through with flying colours. He’s just a big, soppy dope really but he loves to play. Having said that, he’s equally happy to just snooze or lounge on you, so he’s pretty adaptable. He’s really good on the lead and off it, and comes back when he’s called.’

‘Why on earth is he here?’

‘Got too big, apparently. They didn’t realise that a Labrador Rottweiler cross might get bigger than a miniature poodle.’

I gave a head shake.

‘At least they’ve trained him well.’

‘I think it’s really just his nature. He’s a pleaser.’

‘Has anyone shown an interest in him yet?’

‘I’ve not put him on the website yet because he sounded exactly what you were after. But I don’t want to keep him in kennels too long if I can get him out to a good home.’

‘Of course not. Can we take him out?’

‘Sure.’ Mark opened the kennel and the dog loped towards us, nuzzling his head into my hand where the treat hid.

‘Ooh, smart boy,’ I said, holding my hand flat so that he could take it, which he did with the gentlest of movements.

‘So he’s good with kids too?’

‘His owners said that he was, and the two little kids that came with him were clinging to him like they never wanted to let him go. He didn’t react to it at all and all the tests we’ve done would indicate he pretty much gets on with anything and anybody. Does the potential new owner have kids then?’

‘No, but I’d guess he might in the future, I don’t know. But he does have nieces and nephews he’s very close to, so it’s vital that the dog is kiddie-friendly.’

‘This one is everything friendly.’

From the way the dog had curled up and put his head on my lap as we sat on the floor talking, he certainly seemed that way.

I left Mark and took Rooney on a long walk, meeting plenty of dogs, people and livestock, and he behaved beautifully throughout. My excitement was mounting at the prospect of finding him a forever home.

‘How was he?’ Mark asked as he saw us plodding back in through the gate, the mud halfway up my wellies as the wind blew Rooney’s ear inside out. I bent over and folded it back.

‘Brilliant. I love him. I want him!’ I laughed, honestly wishing that I really could take the dog home.

‘He’s a great mutt.’

‘He is.’

‘Do you think your friend will like him?’

‘Client more than a friend. But I hope so. Although he is adamant he doesn’t want another dog.’

Mark looked at me.

‘What?’

‘You know people have to get a dog when it’s right for them. If it’s not the right time, it’ll only end up bad for everyone involved. He’s too good a dog to be messed about.’

‘I know.’

Mark didn’t seem convinced.

‘I promise. He’s not a man to do anything lightly so if he really doesn’t want a dog, believe me, I’m the last person who’d be able to persuade him. I just want to, I don’t know, remind him of what he’s missing and how much happier he was when he had a pooch keeping him company.’

‘OK. I’m not questioning your motives, you know that.’

‘Of course I do. You want what’s best for the animals. I do too. I promise.’

Mark flicked the bobble on my bobble hat. ‘I know. So when can you get your guy down here?’

‘Tomorrow? Can you hold him until then?’

‘Sure. Let me know if anything changes.’

‘Will do. Thanks again Mark. I really appreciate it.’

‘No problem.’ He frowned up at a sky that was becoming increasingly leaden. ‘I grew up with Bondi Beach and endless days of sunshine. What the hell am I doing?’

‘Loving every bit of it.’ I winked.

‘You’re smarter than you look, you know that?’

‘You’re not as funny as you think, you know that?’

He grinned and I did the same.

‘OK. Better go and wash this boy off and get him looking super-duper for his visitor tomorrow.’

‘Have fun. Give me a shout when you’re ready to go and I’ll whizz you to the station.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to do that.’

‘You saw that, right?’

He turned me by the shoulders to face back out the way I’d come. The gentle, occasional flakes of snow that had tickled my eyelashes whilst out walking were now on the verge of a full blown blizzard.

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, “oh”. Give me a shout. But make it quick. Even the Landy has her limits.’

‘Will do. Thanks Mark. Come on Rooney. Let’s get you spruced up.’