Читать книгу The Butterfly Cove Collection - Sarah Bennett, Sarah Bennett - Страница 22

He hadn’t got the full gist of the conversation between Mia and her dad, had tried hard not to listen to something obviously personal and painful. Hot, wet tears slipped down between his collar and his neck, soaking his skin, and he clenched his jaw against the virulent anger stirring in his gut. He wanted to smash something, grab up a sword and slay the dragon who’d caused this precious woman so much hurt. He tightened his arms around her back.

A harsh sob ripped from her throat and Daniel pushed away his feelings. This wasn’t about him. Mia needed him to be a man and take her pain. Even if every drop of salt seared him to the bone, he would take her tears and be the shoulder she needed to cry on.

‘I’ve got you. It’s okay, love; let it all out.’ He cupped her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. ‘Is it your mum?’

‘Yes, no. She’s…it’s the hospital…and Jamie…I’m sorry…’ Her voice rose on a wail of such pain it hurt him to hear it. They’d been rubbing along so well together he’d almost forgotten about the invisible barrier of her husband between them. There was no way he could compete with the love she still held for him. He hadn’t even been in the running.

Shattered, he squeezed his eyes tight against the sting of his own tears and laid his cheek upon the top of her head. ‘Shh. Don’t be sorry; don’t ever be sorry for how you feel,’ he murmured. Something he needed to remember too. She was a woman worth loving, even if they would never be more than friends.

On and on, the storm of her grief battered him and he held firm, giving her an anchor until she subsided into a series of hiccupping sobs. She shivered, burrowing closer to him, and he rubbed her arms to try and soothe the goose bumps forming. He stood gingerly, tucking his hands under her thighs to take her slight weight. Mia wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and pressed closer, clinging like a monkey, and Daniel adjusted his grip until he knew he could hold her safely.

He didn’t speak as he slowly climbed the stairs to the first floor and turned towards his room. He didn’t want to invade Mia’s space without invitation and she had always been protective of her room on the top floor; besides he knew where everything he needed was in his own room. Forgoing the light switch, not willing to let go of his precious burden, he kicked the door wide and navigated to the big bed. She didn’t speak, but sat on the edge at his gentle urging. He bent to slip off her shoes. The blouse she wore had rucked up around her middle.

A quick rummage in his bedside drawer produced a soft T-shirt. It was an old favourite band shirt from his youth, the pattern barely visible any more and the cotton washed so often it was as soft as butter. He unbuttoned her blouse, left her bra in place and pulled the T-shirt over Mia’s head. ‘Stand up for me a minute?’

Her movements robotic, she stood. The blank stare on her face worried him more than the hysterical weeping from before. Taking care not to touch her bare skin, Daniel unfastened her jeans and helped her step out of them. He tugged back the thick quilt and then stopped and turned to Mia, cupping her face gently in his hands as he raised her face to look at him.

‘Do you want to sleep here tonight, or would you rather go up to your room?’ he asked.

‘Here, please,’ she whispered. ‘Here with you.’

That wasn’t what he’d meant. Not at all. The sofa downstairs had served him well enough and he’d planned on tucking her in and leaving her in peace. If company was what she needed right now then it was the least he could offer, given how much she’d done for him.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and urged her towards the bed, scooting her across the sheet as he climbed in beside her and drew the quilt up over them. Mia curled in to him, and he pulled her closer, shielding her body as though he could protect her from the pain she was suffering. She nestled in against his shoulder like a kitten seeking warmth. He lay back and stared upwards, the light from the bathroom casting shadows across the ceiling.

‘I didn’t mean to lose it just now. Mum’s in hospital, the same one where they took Jamie, you know, afterwards. I told you last time it’s the strangest things that set me off.’ She shook her head to ward off the tears gathering in her throat. ‘Anyway, things with Mum and Dad have never been easy. I think they must have loved each other once, but when I look at them through grown-up eyes they seem such an odd match. He’s a scholar, career-focused and obsessed with all things ancient Greek. She drinks.’

There was so much pain wrapped up in those two words. Shame washed over him. How many people had he hurt like this in his own pursuit of oblivion? She needed to know. ‘I drank. Took stuff too. Nothing too hard, pills, a bit of blow now and then. It started as a way to handle the attention, a quick shot or a sniff to calm my nerves. Became a bit more than that, but everyone around me was doing it so it felt normal. If I hadn’t left town when I did, I’m not sure where I might have ended up.’

‘Do you miss it?’ Her soft question startled a bark of laughter from him.

‘Christ, no. It’s the thing that scares me most about the idea of going back to London. I don’t know how to live that life and not get sucked back into it.’

***

She could feel him trembling against her, sense the fear in his voice. What had it taken for him to make such an admission? He’d shown no signs of needing a drink, and she knew them all by heart from watching her mother. The nervous check of her watch, the glances flicked towards the drinks cabinet as the afternoon ticked past to an hour deemed acceptable for alcohol. The not-so-funny jesting remarks. ‘The sun’s past the yardarm. It must be five o’clock somewhere.’ And five o’clock became four, then three, then a quick tipple with lunch, a nip of sherry at eleven, a splash of vodka in the breakfast orange juice.

She couldn’t cope with another alcoholic in her life. ‘Promise me you’ll say if that changes.’

‘I swear, if I even think about a drink, I’ll find a programme. I don’t want to be that man, Mia. Fitz is the past, a character I played for a while, but he isn’t me.’

He was filling up the dark empty corners of her heart, piece by piece, and Mia had to make him understand what she was feeling before things got any more complicated between them. She didn’t want to be a pity project, a way for Daniel to make himself feel better by taking care of her. If he was looking for a cause to champion, he’d have to look elsewhere. If they were going to make something of the growing bond between, it would need to be on equal footing. She would have to do her part and take care of Daniel and his needs as well.

‘I was thinking today, before the phone call, when I was making dinner,’ she started to speak and then sat bolt upright. ‘Damn, you put the plates in the oven to keep warm and we’ve left them in there.’ Mia started to scramble for the edge of the bed, but he stopped her with a gentle touch.

‘Stay here in the warm and I’ll go and sort them out. If it’s still edible I’ll bring it up or we’ll be starving later. Can you manage a bite to eat?’ Mia nodded and sat back against the pillows.

‘You don’t have to wait on me, Daniel. I’m really okay; I can help.’

‘Indulge me, please? I’ll be two minutes.’ Good to his word, he was soon back with the two plates of pasta on a tray with some cutlery and a large bottle of water, cold from the fridge. Once they stirred the food, it was fine as she hadn’t stinted on the cream sauce, and they sat together in the bed sharing the water between them as they ate.

‘So, you were thinking when you were cooking…’ Daniel prompted.

It was crunch time. ‘Oh. Yes, well. I was thinking about how much I like you being here with me. I’m not saying I want anything to happen between us.’ She blushed and felt a little ridiculous when he grinned at her.

‘You sure know how to boost a man’s ego.’ The teasing tone set her at ease.

‘I’m not saying I don’t either. I just…’ She huffed out a breath. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying.’

‘I don’t think either of us are in the place to be making big steps beyond friendship. I like being around you, and I want to stay here with you. I want to see you achieve your dreams here.’ He glanced away then quickly back. ‘I’ll be honest, I think about what might be. A lot.’

She stared down at the remains of her pasta. ‘Me too.’

‘I know it’s overstepping the mark, but I can’t help myself making plans for the future. Whatever may or may not happen between us, I want to stay. This house feels like the first home I’ve had in years. I want to stay. With you. As friends, if nothing more. I’ve even got some ideas for converting the barn.’

Mia knew she probably looked dumbstruck as she stared open-mouthed at Daniel. It was almost as though he could read her mind as his words echoed perfectly her own feelings. ‘I want the same thing, whatever else happens here, I want us to always be friends, Daniel. I feel like we came together at a moment in time when we both needed the other so badly without even realising it. You have become so special to me in just a few weeks and I can’t bear to think that we might spoil this by rushing too far ahead or striving to feel something that just might not be there for us. I think we need to promise to be honest with each other, no matter what we fear the other person might say because it is only by staying true and trusting each other that we can hold this together. Do you agree?’

Mia reached up to cup his bearded cheek and he turned his head to press a kiss into the centre of her palm.

‘Yes, I agree. I also think we need to start sharing some of those sad stories, but not tonight and not all at once. The dark should be for whispering about our dreams and hopes for the future. Let’s save the tough stuff for the daytime, okay?’

It was such a sweet idea that it appealed deeply to Mia, to keep their most intimate times a haven, knowing that she could lie beside him and be safe and warm and not have to face anything upsetting or difficult. A time to plan and look to the future. It was perfect.

‘So tell me about these plans of yours.’ She settled back against her pillow and let him tuck the quilt under her chin as if she were a child. He drew back to his own side of the bed, leaving a clear space between them. He mimicked her position. Snug as two bugs in a rug, as her mother used to say when she still used to put Mia to bed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then listened with her heart open as Daniel described his fledgling ideas for converting the barns.

***

‘The air here is different, even the sky looks different. I didn’t realise how much the darkness of the city was getting to me until it was almost too late. You end up living this life that isn’t yours, if you’re not careful, and then you lose that part of you that your creativity and artistry needs to survive and thrive. I was so full of hope, so full of ideas and excitement when I moved to London. My pictures reflected that positivity. All my themes were of things to be celebrated.’

Daniel paused, trying to find the right words. ‘I need to show you my portfolio and then you would understand.’ He sat up intent on fetching his tablet, but she stopped him with a light touch on his arm.

‘Save that for later. You were talking about the difference here away from the city and how it makes you feel. What does that have to do with your plans for the barn?’ She rolled onto her side, tucking her hands beneath her cheek.

He settled back down and turned to face her, heart racing a mile a minute. He’d thought for sure any hopes of a relationship with her had been dashed because she still grieved for Jamie, but she’d offered him a lifeline with her shy admission. Now was not the time to push it though. They would have plenty of time to explore things between them if she liked what he said next.

‘I want to convert the barn into a studio, well a collection of studios really. Something to cater for different artistic disciplines. A pottery studio with all the equipment: a wheel, a kiln, drying racks and display cases. A photography studio with a dark room for the old-fashioned types and a top-of-the-range computer and printing set-up for us digital addicts; one for a painter to use, one for a sculptor.

‘The light in the barn is fantastic and the view across the beach to the sea would be inspirational to the most jaded of eyes. The gardens here are fascinating too. I love them as they are—so much to explore, so many hidden secrets to capture on film, on canvas, in clay. I just think it would be fabulous to be able to offer an exclusive retreat to people. Somewhere they can tuck themselves away and recuperate, recharge their batteries and maybe rekindle their muse if they are struggling like I was.’ He cut himself off with a laugh at the saucer-eyed expression on her face. ‘Yeah, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought.’

‘It never occurred to me the barn could be anything other than an eyesore and a dumping ground. I’ve always known I’d have to tackle it at some point, but trying to deal with the house has been overwhelming enough.’ She nibbled her lower lip, a single line etched between her brows—her thinking face, as he thought of it. And when had he started giving names to her different expressions? She spoke again, distracting him from the thought. ‘I can see the appeal of the idea, but I never planned on turning the place into an artist’s retreat.’

A note of uncertainty crept into her tone and Daniel plunged on, hoping to sell her his vision. ‘It’s such a beautiful place; it would be perfect. I want to invite my friend Aaron down to visit and check it out further. He’s the one with a head for figures and his brother’s an architect. I want to get their input and ideas, see if Luke can take some measurements, maybe put together some sketches. I’d make sure it wouldn’t interfere with the guest house. They would be pretty self-contained with the little apartments on the mezzanine floor, although you might get a few begging at the back door once they smell your cooking.’

‘You plan to have them sleep there too? You wouldn’t be expecting them to stay in the house?’ Mia sounded surprised and he wanted to slap himself for being a fool. She’d obviously thought he wanted to take over everything.

‘God no, the guest house is yours. I wouldn’t presume to interfere with your plans. The barn is huge, plenty of room to put in a first floor. That was the idea, studios down below with maybe a staircase connecting to a loft type apartment above. The artists can totally retreat if they wanted to, although I would hope that people would mingle a bit in the summer if we had a barbeque or a bit of a beach party. Get everyone together and all mixing. Maybe put a few bits of art around the house to decorate and we could offer them for sale if anyone was interested. We could even set up a small gallery in time if there was enough interest. A gallery and a tea shop to draw the holidaymakers in the season and something to offer the locals off-peak.’

Mia started laughing as Daniel raced on a mile a minute. So yeah he was miles beyond just a few artist studios, but he could see it in his mind’s eye and excitement fizzed in his gut like champagne bubbles.

‘You’re mad, you know?’ She was laughing, though, much to his relief. ‘The dream I had for opening a guest house seemed unachievable only a couple of months ago and now here we are thinking about adding an artist’s retreat, an art gallery and a bloody tea shop! It all sounds marvellous, but I barely have enough in the budget to finish this place.’

Oh, hell, he was really mucking this up. ‘The cost of anything you agree for the barn would come out of my pocket, not yours. I’ll buy or lease the space from you, with a proper contract and everything. Once I became flavour of the month, people paid quite ludicrous sums for my work and even more for a personal sitting.’

A flicker of guilt over that last disastrous sitting jabbed him in the belly. ‘I have more bloody money than I know what to do with and no-one and nothing in my life that was worth a damn penny of it until now, until this.’ He sounded desperate to his own ears and knew he should back off, but he needed this, needed something physical to show for his almost thirty years of existence other than a few pictures and a failing reputation.

The frown on her forehead smoothed out and excitement gleamed in her eyes. ‘It’s a great idea. I love it and if you can afford to make a go of it then you have my blessing. We’ll have to finish the beach room if you are going to invite your friends to stay. You can put one in there and one in here, if you don’t mind giving up your room for a couple of nights?’

A weight he hadn’t been aware of lifted from his shoulders and he wanted to drag her into his arms and hold her tight, but it seemed too intimate given their location. ‘That would work. The sofa did me fine for the first week. I can camp out on it for a couple of days while the guys are here. Are you sure you don’t mind me inviting them down?’

‘I don’t mind.’ She laughed. ‘I actually don’t. I’ve been cocooned in this place for so long, I forgot what it was like to enjoy the thought of company. Once we’ve finished the beach room, we could look at converting one of the other rooms on the top floor for you to use. Once we have paying guests, you won’t want to be on the same floor as them; you’ll never get any peace. And I like the idea of having you close.’ She said it so calmly, it took him a moment to register the significance. In opening her private space to him, she was offering him a permanent home. A place to belong and set down roots.

He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. ‘If you’re sure?’

‘We’d have to share the bathroom, and only the bathroom for now, but if you don’t leave the seat up it should be fine.’ Her jaw cracked around a huge yawn. ‘Sorry.’

He smiled and tucked the quilt around her. She hadn’t made any move to return to her own room and he liked the idea of keeping her close, even if it was just for one night. ‘Don’t be. Let’s get some sleep and tomorrow will be a better day.’

She wriggled around, turning from one side to the other, taking more and more of the quilt with her each time she shifted. Maybe sharing a bed wasn’t such a great idea. Waiting until she finally settled, he risked a surreptitious tug on one corner to claim just enough of the duvet to cover himself and turned on his side to face her. He bit his lip against the urge to laugh. There was little more of her visible than the top of her head. ‘’Night, pet,’ he murmured.

‘’Night Daniel,’ she replied from the muffled depths of the bed.