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Lucy began to run her fingers up Cal’s spine and Cal shivered. “Well-choreographed, huh? I suppose I should consider myself lucky to be in the hands of such an expert.”

“Oh God, someone poke my eyes out,” George cried from behind them.

“George!” Lucy said.

Cal stepped away.

“Blind me, lest I see such sights again,” George wailed.

“You could have cleared your throat or something,” grumbled Lucy. “That way you wouldn’t see anything you didn’t want to see. Besides, we’re both fully dressed.”

“I wasn’t looking at the details,” George said.

Cal recovered herself and laughed. “Hold on a second, don’t you run a romance bookshop?”

George turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “What of it?”

For an instant, Cal wondered if she’d gone too far, got too comfortable, overstepped some kind of boundary. “Just, um, well, you should appreciate love in all its forms, right?”

George stared at her for a moment and then snorted with laughter. “I suppose I should at that,” he said.

Cal let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t overstepped. She was allowed to kid, to join in the fun. George was… nice. Kind. She could tell that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with her running the bakery and that Lucy had bullied him into asking for the favor. But he’d asked, he was willing to give her a chance. Which was nice, inclusive.

“Anyway, Billy’s off to bed, so I came to see if you ladies would like a drink. Either cocoa or wine, there’s no in between,” George said.

“Not for me,” said Lucy.

“Me neither,” Cal said. “I really need to get up early in the morning. Thanks for offering though.”

“No problem,” George said. He looked at Cal. “How about you drop by at some point tomorrow morning and we’ll quickly go through everything you’ll need for Friday. Sort of a trial run. Say before lunch?”

Cal had been planning on putting in a full day of work at the house. Still, she supposed she’d need to take a lunch break. “Alright, I’ll stop by for half an hour when I can,” she promised.

“Then I suppose I’ll leave you two to your lengthy and sentimental goodbyes,” George grinned. “I’m more of a fade to black kind of guy. I don’t need to see the details.” He slid off around the corner and Lucy pulled a face.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

Cal smiled at her. “It’s fine. I like George.”

“He’s a drama queen.”

“He’s kind,” said Cal.

Lucy sighed. “He really is.”

“You’ve surrounded yourself by good people,” Cal said. The night was darkening. Maybe she was starting to see a little of what kept Lucy here. Not that she wanted to live here herself. But then she’d spent so long running away from this place right here that maybe she’d forgotten that it hadn’t always been a terrible place to be.

She’d missed the hiss of the ocean, the steady beat of it in the dark of night.

“I have,” Lucy said now. “I’ve been lucky though. I didn’t have to wash up here. But now that I have… I can’t really imagine being anywhere else. At least not right now.” She sighed. “Maybe going to London isn’t a bad thing. Broadening my horizons and all that.”

Cal perched on the edge of a paint-spattered stool. “What happened before all this? Before Tetherington, I mean.”

“You want my back story?” Lucy laughed.

“Only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me.” Cal wasn’t really sure why she was asking. She didn’t normally ask. But something about Lucy made her want to know.

“It’s not complicated,” said Lucy. “My mum wasn’t a great mum. I got taken off her when I was seven, grew up in care and foster homes. Left foster care, slipped through the cracks for a multitude of reasons, some of them my own fault, ended up living on the street for a while and then washed up here. Atwhich point Pen promptly took me in, let me shower, and gave me a bed on her couch.”