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“She sounds nice,” Cal said. Which was an understatement. She knew Pen was nice. More than nice. She remembered her clearly, remembered how she’d always had a kind word, even for the younger kids in school.

“So, you know, getting this sense of belonging, what I have here, it’s kind of important to me,” Lucy admitted.

Cal wondered how that could possibly fit in with dating her. How Lucy could go from needing to fit in and belong to wanting to be with someone who didn’t fit in anywhere and certainly didn’t belong in Tetherington.

Except she had missed the ocean. And people were starting to come around to her. She could feel that. Could feel that she wasn’t quite as hated as she was before.

“I’m getting soppy,” Lucy said. “I must be tired.”

Cal stood up. “And I’ll leave you to it then.”

“I didn’t mean to throw you out,” Lucy said, coming closer, stroking Cal’s hair with one hand and putting the other on her hip. “Especially after such a lovely date.”

Cal smiled. “It was lovely, wasn’t it? I’ve had an amazing evening with you, Lucy. And thank you again for showing me your work.”

“It’s there to be seen,” Lucy said again. She cleared her throat. “I’m not disappointing you? By sending you home again?”

Cal shook her head. “This isn’t the last night in the world,” she said. “We’ll have plenty of other nights, Lucy Evans.”

Lucy quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, will we indeed? According to you, we’ll only have six weeks of nights. I wouldn’t call that plenty.”

A breeze was blowing through the open wooden doors, the ocean was a steady heartbeat, Lucy’s scent was filling Cal’s senses. But there was more than the romance of it. There was the memory of joking with George, the thought of Rosalee bandaging her face. The idea of Lucy being there every evening, every morning, every minute of every day.

“Rules are made to be broken,” Cal said hoarsely.

Lucy looked at her long and hard, then leaned to kiss her slowly. “I think we should both be going to bed, huh?” she said. But happiness was gleaming in her eyes.

Cal walked away from the cottage with a warm heaviness in her heart. She knew what she’d just said but couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She liked Lucy. More than liked her. Lucy was special in a way that she couldn’t quite describe.

Lucy made her feel safe and secure and trusted. Though she was damned if she knew what Lucy was getting out of the deal.

She was still smiling as she walked into the empty pub. Rosalee was putting away the last of the glasses.

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” Rosalee said, a favorite saying of hers apparently.

Cal just grinned and shrugged. “I’m going to hit the hay.”

Rosalee nodded but didn’t turn back to her work. “I was thinking,” she said. “About what we talked about the other day. If you were contemplating sticking around, or just wanted to come back for visits, there is something that would help you be more accepted around here.”

“What’s that then?” Cal asked, edging toward the door.

“An apology,” Rosalee said. “That’s all.”

“That’s all.” Cal nodded. “Right, I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”

She climbed the stairs steadily up to her room knowing that Rosalee meant well, and knowing that she was wrong.

Because Cal couldn’t apologize for something she hadn’t done in the first place.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Asmall drip of sweat trickled down her back and Cal tried not to think about how hot she was. The summer was moving on and she could swear it was getting hotter by the day. Not exactly usual for the UK. In fact, she had a distinct holiday kind of vibe as she walked down the street toward the bakery.

Maybe this was all kind of a holiday. A chance to get her head together, to decide what she wanted from life, to practice a little forgiveness even.

“Could it get any hotter?” she asked as she walked into the bakery.

“Don’t even,” said George, grimacing. “At least you haven’t been slaving over hot ovens all morning.”