All They Need - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,9
faded cargos, a raggedy long-sleeved T-shirt. The old self-consciousness stole over her.
“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here,” she said, tugging on the hem of her T-shirt.
“I’m sure we will,” Hayley replied.
“I’ve put you in Red Coat Cottage,” Mel said, gesturing toward the cottage peeking through the screening shrubs she’d planted. “I’ll give you a quick tour then leave you to settle in. I live in the main house, so if you need anything, knock on the back door or give me a buzz on the phone.”
She was talking too fast and her palms were damp with sweat. She took a deep, calming breath as Flynn opened the trunk and pulled out two overnight bags, one an exclusive Louis Vuitton duffel, the other a well-worn leather number that looked as though it had seen an adventure or two.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d had wealthy guests before. So why was she feeling so edgy all of a sudden?
She took refuge in action, leading the way toward the cottage, unlocking the door and stepping to one side to allow Flynn and Hayley to precede her.
Flynn was too busy examining the big terra-cotta pot of roses positioned to the left of the door to pick up on her unspoken cue.
“Red Coat roses.” His gaze met hers, bright with interest. “You named the cottage after the rose, right?”
Mel stared at him, surprised he even knew the name of a David Austin rose, let alone that he could recognize one by appearance.
“That’s right. All the cottages are named after David Austin roses,” she said slowly. “Windrush, Pegasus, Tea Clipper.”
“Clever idea,” he said.
Hayley looked amused. “Trust Flynn to find something green to fixate on the moment he arrives.”
Mel smiled politely. Clearly, this was a private joke between the two of them. “The bedroom is the first door on the left.” She stepped a little closer to the wall as Flynn brushed past her, followed by his girlfriend. They both disappeared into the bedroom.
Mel waited in the hallway. Ten seconds later, Flynn returned.
“Lead on, MacDuff.”
She gathered by the other woman’s absence that Hayley would not be joining them. She led Flynn into the living room, explained how to adjust the flue on the chimney should they wish to use the fireplace, then showed him the kitchen and bathroom.
“All pretty self-explanatory. The instructions for the appliances are in the top drawer in the kitchen if you need them,” she said as they returned to the porch.
“Nice spec. Did you renovate this place yourself or was it done when you bought it?”
“I did it. It was a little tired and worn around the edges when I took possession.”
“You’ve done a great job.” His warm gaze traveled over her face, and for some inexplicable reason she could feel heat stealing into her cheeks.
“Thanks. That’s a pretty big compliment coming from a Randall.”
She hated the nervous note in her voice, hated the on-edge, eager-to-impress feeling in her chest. She didn’t need to impress this man. He might have more money and more social pull than God, but he wasn’t her friend, and he definitely wasn’t her husband.
She needed nothing from him. He was her guest. Nothing more, nothing less.
Flynn’s gaze ran over the front of the cottage. “I’m simply stating the obvious. You have good taste.”
She was so surprised she let out a crack of incredulous laughter. “Can I have that in writing? My ex in-laws would be stunned.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them—way too much information, and way too revealing of the bitterness she was still trying to move past. All of which was made worse by the fact that he actually knew Owen. Hell, he probably knew Owen’s parents, too.
She took a step away and jammed her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants. “I’ll leave you to it. No doubt you have heaps of things you want to do and see.”
She flashed him a tight smile before turning, putting her head down and walking briskly toward the main house. She didn’t slow her pace until she was around the bend and out of view of the cottage. Then she let her breath out on a sigh.
Stupid, but for some reason Flynn Randall and his girlfriend had really rattled her cage. She didn’t quite understand why. Maybe it was simply that they reminded her of a time when she’d been miserable and full of self-doubt and constantly aware of all her shortcomings. Or maybe she was like Pavlov’s