Matilda Next Door - Kelly Hunter Page 0,36

daughter airily. ‘You could cut him some slack.’

Tilly closed her eyes and the chest and the baby on it went gently up and down. He averted his gaze because of untoward speculation about the softness of said chest, and feelings he emphatically didn’t need to be feeling right now. In front of her parents. Who seemed particularly perceptive when it came to him and his unspoken thoughts. ‘One night.’ Who was he kidding? ‘Okay, one week’s worth of staying overnight with me and the demon child while she settles into a new routine, and you can name your price. I’m good for it. You could hold an IOU—it could stretch out years. When you call, I will come.’

God that sounded wrong. ‘Bodies to bury. Banks to rob.’ Doubling down on the many faces of wrong.

‘Done.’

He smiled out of sheer relief and gratitude. Tilly blinked. Her mother laughed. Old Man Moore shook his head and muttered, ‘I’m embarrassed for you, son.’

But half an hour later, with Rowan sleeping peacefully in her new room and Tilly settling into the guest room next to that one, his gratitude came back in force. Enough to take him to the kitchen to pull out a few of his grandmother’s cookbooks and look for a recipe for baking bread.

‘What are you doing?’

If he thought Tilly looked good in day clothes, that was because he’d never seen her in boy shorts and matching cotton T-shirt. Tweety Bird had never looked so good. ‘You said you wanted fresh bread for breakfast.’ He really hadn’t said it just to make her eyes start smiling, but smile they did.

‘Well if your grandmother still has some starter yeast in the cupboard beneath the sink—’ Tilly crossed to the cupboard, dug around inside and took out a brown ceramic coffee cup. ‘—which she does. I can help you there.’

Henry had no idea where the flour was, but knew where the salt lived. He couldn’t find the cooking bowls but Tilly said that as long as it was glass, a salad bowl would do, and he did find one of those. The water had to be lukewarm. The dough had to sit in the water heater cupboard overnight. She didn’t measure anything, so chances were he’d never be able to repeat this experiment. Watching Tweety Bird on a nightly basis, however …

‘Are you attracted to me, Henry?’

He’d forgotten how utterly direct she could be.

‘Because you’re looking at me differently these days and I’m trying to figure out why.’

‘You’re a very beautiful, generous and hardworking woman. I’d be surprised if I wasn’t attracted to you. It’s only logical.’

Her wry smile did not suit her. ‘You left and barely spared anyone a backwards glance, including me. And it was never a secret that I worshipped the ground you walked on, so I have to figure that your new, improved way of seeing me has something to do with your new circumstances. Which leaves me with a problem.’

‘What kind of a problem?’ He wasn’t at his best with these kinds of conversations.

‘I’m scared I’m going to stay to help out here and end up becoming way too attached to you and Rowan. It’d be so easy to do, you see. I’m already halfway there.’

She busied herself at the sink, with her back to him as she got a glass of water from the tap. He wondered if she realised he could still see her reflection in the glass of the nearby window. Such a vulnerable face behind those bold words. ‘And what would you like me to do about that?’

‘Be careful with me, I guess. Don’t lead me on with lazy smiles and greedy eyes if you’re not planning on becoming similarly invested.’

‘And what if I want to be similarly invested? What if I want to see where this leads in spite of everything else happening around us, rather than because of it?’

‘Do you?’

He did. Heaven help him. ‘I’ve never forgotten you, Matilda, no matter how far I’ve travelled, so there’s that. I’m three years older than you, and while that doesn’t matter now, it did when we were younger. If I’d taught you anything more than calculus your father would have had my balls. I know this because he mentioned it a time or two.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Ask him.’ Tilly’s father had known full well where Henry’s thoughts had been heading all those years ago. ‘You’ve had an open invite to visit me in London since you were eighteen years old.’

‘You forgot my eighteenth birthday, Henry. You made