Sarah Mayberry - All They Need

“Nice spec. Did you renovate this place yourself or was it done when you bought it?”

“I did it. It was a little tired and worn around the edges when I took possession.”

“You’ve done a great job.” His warm gaze traveled over her face, and for some inexplicable reason she could feel heat stealing into her cheeks.

“Thanks. That’s a pretty big compliment coming from a Randall.”

She hated the nervous note in her voice, hated the on-edge, eager-to-impress feeling in her chest. She didn’t need to impress this man. He might have more money and more social pull than God, but he wasn’t her friend, and he definitely wasn’t her husband.

She needed nothing from him. He was her guest. Nothing more, nothing less.

Flynn’s gaze ran over the front of the cottage. “I’m simply stating the obvious. You have good taste.”

She was so surprised she let out a crack of incredulous laughter. “Can I have that in writing? My ex in-laws would be stunned.”

The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them—way too much information, and way too revealing of the bitterness she was still trying to move past. All of which was made worse by the fact that he actually knew Owen. Hell, he probably knew Owen’s parents, too.

She took a step away and jammed her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants. “I’ll leave you to it. No doubt you have heaps of things you want to do and see.”

She flashed him a tight smile before turning, putting her head down and walking briskly toward the main house. She didn’t slow her pace until she was around the bend and out of view of the cottage. Then she let her breath out on a sigh.

Stupid, but for some reason Flynn Randall and his girlfriend had really rattled her cage. She didn’t quite understand why. Maybe it was simply that they reminded her of a time when she’d been miserable and full of self-doubt and constantly aware of all her shortcomings. Or maybe she was like Pavlov’s dog, forever programmed to respond with quivering servility when in the company of her social betters.

Now that’s a depressing thought.

She shrugged off her disquiet. They were staying one night, and then they’d be gone. Depending on their movements, she probably wouldn’t even see them again until they checked out.

Right now, that felt like a very good thing.

FLYNN WATCHED MEL stride away, her long, muscular legs eating up the ground.

She wasn’t conventionally beautiful—her facial features were too unbalanced and she was built on too grand a scale for that—but she was incredibly appealing. He’d forgotten that about her.

He wasn’t sure what it was that he found so compelling. Her gray eyes were clear and direct but otherwise perfectly ordinary, her nose was a little on the large side, her mouth slightly too wide. And yet the whole time he’d been talking to her he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.

She, however, had seemed nervous. Not at all the way he remembered her.

Hayley joined him on the porch, sliding an arm around his waist.

“I like it here already. The air smells cleaner.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

“That’s because it is,” he said dryly.

She followed his gaze up the driveway. “She was married to Owen Hunter, wasn’t she?”

“That’s right.”

“I can remember seeing her around. She’s pretty hard to miss. She always used to remind me of Xena, Warrior Princess. Or Wonder Woman.”

“She’s tall, but she’s not that tall.”

“She’s taller than me. Were you there the night she fell into the Hollands’ fountain?”

“Yes.”

“Was it as bad as they say?”

“In what way?”

“In every way. I heard her dress was transparent, and that her husband marched her off and then spent the next month apologizing for her to anyone who is anyone.”

Flynn frowned. “She was trying to help. It’s not like she leaped into the fountain for kicks.”

Hayley held up a hand. “Whoa there. I didn’t mean to step on any toes. I didn’t realize you two were friends.”

Her gaze was searching, questioning, and he realized he’d spoken a little too heatedly.

“We’re not. I hardly know her. But that fountain thing was blown way out of proportion. Gabrielle Holland needs to get a life.”

“That’s true. She dined out on that story for a very long time.” She sounded amused, but she’d always been far more tolerant of the social piranhas amongst their circle than he had.

He checked his watch. “We should get going.”

“Let me grab my bag.”

She was back in a minute with her sunglasses and handbag. He backed his vintage Aston Martin out and cruised up the driveway. They were nearing the main house when Mel appeared around the corner, lugging a tall ladder. She leaned it against the back of the house beneath one of the sash windows before looking over her shoulder toward them. She gave a small acknowledging smile then turned to her task.

He hit the brakes and wound down the window.

“Hey. It’s been a few years since I’ve been down on the peninsula and old Gertie here doesn’t have GPS.” He patted the Aston Martin’s dash. “Do I turn left or right onto the Nepean Highway if I want to go to Summerlea estate?”

Mel approached the car, bending so she could see in the window. “You take a left. Then it’s the first street on your left, and the estate is at the end of the road.”

Her T-shirt sagged as she leaned down. It took more willpower than he cared to admit to stop himself from taking a good long look at what he suspected was a pretty spectacular view.

He was only human, after all, and she was built on very generous lines. “Great, thanks.”

“I guess it’s true then, huh? It’s up for sale? I heard a rumor but I didn’t believe it.”

“The owners have gone into a retirement home, according to the estate agent.”

“Really? That’s so sad. They both loved that place so much. It must be hell to have to give it over to someone else.”

“You know them?”

“Oh, no. Not personally.” She tucked a long, dark curl behind her ear. “I used to go to Summerlea when it was part of the Open Garden tour, and Brian and Grace were always there, talking to everyone. It’s been years since they last let the public in, but I can still remember how beautiful the gardens were. I’ve never seen flame azaleas like theirs anywhere else. And the roses… Mind-blowing.”

She had a far-off look in her eyes. Then she seemed to recall herself. “Sorry. I’m holding you up.” She straightened and stepped back from the car, waving a hand to indicate he should go.

“Thanks for the directions.”

She gave an awkward little shrug. He drove out into the street.

“If you’re feeling guilty about looking, don’t,” Hayley said after a few seconds. “I looked. Couldn’t help myself. She has amazing breasts.” She sounded wistful.

Flynn glanced at her briefly before concentrating on the road. “I didn’t look.”

“Flynn. Come on. This is me. A blind man would have looked.”

“I didn’t look,” he repeated. He glanced at her again as he signaled to pull onto the highway.

She looked bemused. “Why on earth not?”

“Because I’m with you,” he said simply.

A slow smile curled Hayley’s mouth. “Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true, you know that?”

“If you believe that, I’ve got some swamp land to sell you.”

“I think I just might buy some swamp land if you were selling it.”

The real estate agent was already waiting for them when they parked in front of Summerlea’s familiar white fence. He scrambled out of his Mercedes as Flynn cut the engine.