Page 12 of Valentine Nook (The Valentine Nook Chronicles #1)

“Or because maybe you like her, but you don’t want to admit you like her because then Mum and Clemmie would be right?” Miles adds.

“I’ve met her twice.” I hold up two fingers. “Twice. For a total of about ten minutes. It’s not long enough to form an opinion.”

“What a load of bollocks.” Miles scoffs. “And we both know you’re going to apologize to her because you’re not really the colossal dick you’re so good at pretending you are. So maybe get it over with today and tell her she’s welcome to the Burlington kitchen whenever she likes.”

“I wasn’t a dick.”

Hendricks and Miles raise identical eyebrows .

“Okay, fine.”

Miles slaps an arm across my shoulders. “Proud of you, big brother, and on that note, I have a date with my favorite girl. Legs up to heaven, beautiful chestnut red hair, so soft it feels like silk. And she fits just right between my thighs.” He winks, and I can’t help the grin pulling at my lips because I know the idiot’s talking about Chester, his polo pony.

And just like that, my anger dissipates.

Miles might be the most annoying individual I know, but he also makes me laugh more than anyone else.

D espite having absolutely no intention of apologizing, I’ve parked outside Bluebell Cottage, opened the gate, and am currently knocking on the door.

I try not to think about the fact the last time I was here was the night before my wedding.

Today, there’s a brand-new pair of wellies lined up neatly by the step. So new I wonder if she’s even worn them yet. I mean, there’s not a speck of dirt on them.

The kind thing would be to chuck a bucket of mud over them, but she probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

After a second attempt at knocking, it becomes clear she’s not home, so I decide to leave. It was stupid to come here anyway. Unfortunately, that’s the moment she returns.

She doesn’t see me standing on the doorstep as she closes the gate behind her.

She’s too busy humming loudly to whatever she’s listening to while trying to open a bottle of water with her teeth.

Based on the light sheen coating her skin and the very tight workout pants and sports bra sculpting her body, I’d say she’s come back from a run.

I’ve only ever seen this woman in the skimpiest clothing, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m being tested in some perverse way. Maybe Miles has put her up to this. That would make sense because fuck me if I can’t take my eyes off her.

I rarely have time to watch movies, and I’ve never seen anything starring Holiday Simpson, but I have the sudden urge to go home and binge everything she’s ever made.

I also have about three seconds before she spots me, and it becomes very awkward, so I decide to preempt it.

I wave in her face. “Hello?”

“ Bag of dicks ,” she screeches, and the bottle flies out of her hand.

I manage to snatch it mid-air before it hits the ground, twist the cap off, and pass it back to her.

“What an extraordinary greeting.”

She’s still staring at me, blue eyes wide with shock, and I feel bad that I startled her, but I’ve also never had this reaction from a woman before.

It’s both confounding and mildly amusing. I could live without the screeching, though, because so far, we’re three for three.

Eventually, she pulls out her earbuds and takes back the water. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply with a smile, hoping I don’t startle her further. But I’m not sure she’s blinked yet. “Are you okay?”

“Is that blood?”

I glance down at my jeans to see that I am indeed covered in the remains of the morning. I hadn’t realized quite how gross they were, and I take a step back.

“Yes, yes, it is. Um . . . we had some calves born this morning.”

“Oh. Cool,” she says, her lips rolling into a straight line, and her head bobs as she takes a long sip of water. My eyes are transfixed on the delicate curve of her neck as she swallows. “So did you come to yell at me some more?”

“No— ”

“You’re fixing my roof?”

“Your roof?”

She sidesteps around me and walks to the front door, where she toes off her trainers and lines them up next to the wellies.

“Yeah, the roof. It’s leaking. You know it’s made of straw, right?”

No idea why I glance up to check. “Yes, it’s thatched. But I didn’t know it was leaking.”

“I told Clemmie. She said she’d get it fixed.”

“Ah.” I chuckle, hoping to defuse any impending annoyance. “That’s where you went wrong. Clementine is notoriously forgetful. But I can promise you that I will have it fixed. Where is it leaking?”

Holiday pushes the door open and gestures me inside. “Come in, I’ll show you.”

I try to take a step forward, but it’s like my feet are glued to the ground. It seems the end of the path is the farthest I’m prepared to go. If this house wasn’t part of the village, I’d happily burn it to the ground.

Peering in, however, the dread I was expecting doesn’t materialize.

I know my mother refurbished, but I never paid attention to anything she was doing. Even from my narrowed view of the hallway, it looks completely different.

Where the walls used to be cream, they’re now wallpapered in thick blue stripes. The wooden floor is stained dark instead of its previous pale oak, and I can see the edges of a curved table with a huge bunch of roses sitting in a vase that wasn’t previously there.

It’s not the house I found Caroline and Jeremy in, but I still can’t bring myself to investigate what other changes have been made.

“That’s okay, I won’t disturb you. I’ll have someone around this afternoon, and you can show them. They’ll be here in an hour.” I pull out my phone and shoot off a message asking James to get it handled. “Will that be okay?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, taking a step back followed by another.

She’s still standing there as I turn and walk to the car.

It takes all my self-discipline not to check and see if she’s still watching when I close the gate. Will I be disappointed if she isn’t?

As I get behind the wheel, I realize I never apologized, and I never mentioned the cooking lessons.

This means I’ll have to see her again, and for some inexplicable reason, I don’t seem to mind.