Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,66

I have nothing to do with those shops. They’re owned by my mother, who’s a bitter cow who’ll do anything to get me to dance to her tune, and she’s turning the screws because she somehow thinks I like you …’ She trailed off, mortified she’d said too much.

‘Why does she think you like me?’

He’d asked the question she had no intention of answering. ‘Who knows? Anyway, I’ve just come from her place. I told her she has to sell to you and Betty.’

Some of the tension holding his shoulders rigid dissolved as he crossed the room to sit in the armchair next to hers. ‘Do you think she’ll listen?’

‘Honestly?’ Jane screwed up her nose. ‘I have no idea. That’s the first time I’ve been home since I stormed out ten years ago, vowing never to return, and we rarely talk. But I tried. And I want you to know I’d never screw you over like that, not when you’re giving me a chance to decorate the place.’

He swiped a hand over his face; it did little to erase the sheepishness. ‘I jumped to conclusions. Sorry about that.’

‘Why did you?’ She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to hear the rest. ‘What did you mean about me being a game player?’

A surprising blush stained his cheeks. ‘When you’re not a cool kid at high school, you hate the ones that are.’

‘That’s it?’

‘You don’t remember, do you?’

‘Remember what?’

‘Home ec. Last day of first term, final year.’

She shook her head, embarrassed to admit the only thing she remembered from her last year at high school was trailing after Connor Delaney, doing everything in her power to make him like her. ‘Sorry, I don’t remember.’

‘Figures,’ he muttered. ‘At the risk of sounding like a dickhead for bringing up something that happened over a decade ago, I’ll tell you. I was a guy who preferred to cook rather than play cricket or footy, so you can imagine the shit I copped.’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t give you crap about that.’

‘You gave me crap about everything else though.’ He huffed out a sigh. ‘That last prac session, we had to work in pairs to make a lemon meringue pie. You were assigned to work with me. You said you’d buy the ingredients if I did all the cooking. When you didn’t show up in the home ec room at the time we arranged, I went looking for you. I found you at the oval, watching the footy team train. You’d bought the stuff but when I asked you to come make the pie with me, you accidentally-on-purpose dropped the bags at my feet. And you laughed like an idiot along with the dickhead players who made my life enough of a misery.’

Mortification flooded Jane, both at her actions and the fact she couldn’t remember the incident. Something that had been a blip on her radar had made a lasting impression on this great guy.

‘You really don’t remember?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, Mason, I don’t. I know you and I used to butt heads over other stuff but that was a shitty thing to do. One of many shitty things I did to people back then because I was a self-absorbed bitch.’

‘Harsh but true,’ he deadpanned, making her smile a little.

‘I guess that explains why you thought I was screwing you around over the sale of the shop.’

He nodded. ‘But I jumped to conclusions and that’s almost as shitty as what you did.’

‘Not really, but I appreciate the comparison.’

Their eyes locked and the ever-present hint of heat shimmered between them, unexpected and untenable. She couldn’t do anything about her attraction—considering he already thought poorly of her, he might think any kind of flirtation was part of her repertoire to distract him from securing the shop and expanding the bakery.

‘So what’s the deal with your mum?’

‘Trust me, you don’t want to know,’ she said, the familiar sorrow gripping her heart. ‘Suffice to say we don’t get on and that’s enough of a reason for her vindictiveness to taint you too if she thinks we’re friends.’

Confusion clouded his eyes but she didn’t give him a chance to ask anything else. ‘Thanks for hearing me out. Let me know what happens with the shop, okay?’ She stood.

‘Sure,’ he said, standing too. ‘You’re still keen to decorate, despite my childish behaviour?’

‘If you still want me.’

His enigmatic stare bored into her as he touched her arm. ‘Absolutely.’

Before she could overthink his response, she did the only sensible thing she’d done