Rush hour on the Tube was a crush, as always. Tonight, however, Owen was too preoccupied with thoughts of Mari to pay the crowd much mind.
He nearly laughed out loud at himself. Talk about a crush—he was acting more like a fifteen-year-old schoolboy than a thirty-six-year-old man. There was just something about Charlie’s daughter.
She was beautiful, but in an utterly unique way.
She had been hurt, but she wasn’t at all broken.
She had been sent into a difficult situation, but still seemed full of hope.
Hope. It was such a fragile thing, yet so damned important.
Owen would never forget the night he’d found Mathilda lying unconscious on the floor of her cottage. Calling 999, he’d hoped with everything he had that she would be okay, that she would recover, that he wouldn’t lose one of the most important people in his life.
A year on, her doctors agreed she was in fine form. She had made brilliant strides on all fronts, from speaking to writing to walking. Everything he’d hoped for had come to pass. And yet, he still worried about her.
The conductor’s voice broke through his thoughts, alerting passengers that the Richmond station was the end of the District Line and to please disembark. Today, there had been good service on the line, so Owen had made it home from central London in little more than a half hour. Funneling out of the station alongside hundreds of strangers, he was glad for the walk down the high street to stretch his legs.
Soon, he was on Elderflower Island and letting himself into his grandmother’s cottage. When he couldn’t find her at her writing table, in the living room, or in the kitchen, he called, “Gran?”
He’d texted her several times throughout the day to make sure all was well, but he still held his breath, waiting for her response. Despite the immense progress she’d made, he couldn’t shake the fear that he would return one day and find her on the kitchen floor again. It was why he had kept his outings to a bare minimum for the past year.
“Hello, darling.” His grandmother came into the kitchen, holding a basket of newly dug-up potatoes from the kitchen garden, her cheeks rosy from the sunshine and exertion. “How were your meetings in town?”
“Excellent.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief that she was okay. “The special holiday editions are coming along nicely.” He put the bag he’d carried home on the counter. “I picked up Chelsea buns from that baker you like on Archer Street in Soho.”
“Always so thoughtful.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Now, you had better get ready for your date.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe Mari would call it that.” It didn’t go unnoticed by either of them that he wasn’t disputing the word date on his own behalf. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have minded if it was a date.
“Poor thing is probably too overwhelmed by everything that has happened. Come to think of it,” she added, her eyes twinkling, “you look a little overwhelmed too.”
He had to laugh at her obvious delight in his reaction to Charlie’s daughter. “Sorry to disappoint, Gran, especially when we all know just how good your imagination is, but tonight will likely come to nothing more than eating Chinese takeaway and helping her give the rugs in the bookshop a good hoovering.”
“Whatever the two of you end up doing together, I’m pleased to see you going out. I’ve lived a full and wonderful life—it’s time for you to go live yours.”
“You’ve still got plenty of time left, Gran.”
“I know that.” She shooed him out of the room. “Which is why I’m kicking you out to go charm the knickers off the island’s newest resident.”
Only Mathilda Westcott would be so blatant about her intentions for Owen and Mari, all the way down to her more lascivious hopes for them, knickers and all.
God love her. He couldn’t imagine a world without his grandmother in it.
* * *
Elderflower Island wasn’t large, but its residents certainly didn’t lack for the necessities. Chinese takeaway was on Owen’s must-have list, and Sue Yang’s kitchen never disappointed.
Sue was bagging up the food when he walked in. “Hello, Owen.” She gestured to his larger-than-normal order. “Is your family visiting tonight?”
This was the perfect chance to start getting the news out around the island that Mari was not only no threat to anyone, but the more locals who rallied around her, the better.
“Charlie’s daughter is here,” he told Sue as he paid. “I’m taking dinner over to the bookshop, then helping her with whatever she needs done to get it back up and running. She’s a really nice person, and I’d like to see her succeed.” He lifted the bag. “I’m sure she’s going to love your food, Sue. Cheers.”
Just that quickly, the underground island news network would start humming into overdrive.
Owen was humming too as he headed down the street to Elderflower Island Books. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. Walking with a new spring in his step, under a clear sky, surrounded by flowers that had never smelled quite so fragrant. It wasn’t simply that the past year had been overshadowed by worries about his grandmother.
It was more a feeling that whatever he’d been waiting for his whole life was finally here.
He knocked on the bookshop door. Through the window, he saw Mari turn. A smile lit her face—the same smile he knew was mirrored on his face.
“Hi.” She looked a little shy as she opened the door and let him in. Until she smelled dinner, that was. “That smells amazing.” She put a hand over her stomach at the same moment it let out a loud growl. “I got into such a groove here that I forgot to eat lunch.”
“I thought that might happen, so I ordered loads.”
“How about we go up to the flat and eat in the kitchen you so thoughtfully cleaned yesterday?”
As they headed for the stairs, he took a look around the shop—and was, frankly, astonished by everything she’d already accomplished. The shelves facing the door were dust-free and organized, the piles of books that had littered the floor and seats had been cleared away, and the floor had been polished. “You did all this by yourself?”
“Your sister Alice came by to help.” Mari smiled. “She’s great.”
“She is,” he agreed. But he also knew that Alice likely hadn’t been able to stay long, probably only the length of her lunch break. “You must be exhausted.” Between the hard work and jet lag, Mari was likely about to drop.
“Actually, I feel surprisingly good. I just kept telling myself to ‘keep calm and carry on cleaning.’” She let them into the flat, then went to refill and turn on the kettle. She might have spent only one night in Britain, but her tea-making instincts were that of a native. Over her shoulder, she said, “The queen would probably have my head for butchering the iconic phrase, wouldn’t she?”
“On the contrary,” he said, “I think she’d be pleased by your stiff upper lip.”
Mari got out plates and silverware while he unloaded cartons of kung pao chicken, chow mein, mu shu pork, egg rolls, and steamed rice onto the kitchen table.
“Did Charlie have that?” she asked. “A stiff upper lip, I mean.”
Her tone was mild, and she didn’t stop laying the table. But her surface nonchalance couldn’t disguise how much Owen’s answers about Charlie’s life and personality meant to her. He got the sense she was mentally sliding into place one small puzzle piece after another in the hopes that one day, she would finally be able to see a full picture of the father she’d barely known.
“He definitely did,” Owen replied. “I never heard him complain about anything.”
She met his eyes across the table. “It’s one thing never to complain—it’s another entirely to be truly happy.” The words were barely out of her mouth when she waved her hand in the air as if to erase them. “I swore I wasn’t going to pin you to the wall with a hundred and one questions about Charlie the second you walked in.”
“When I said I’m happy to try to answer any questions you have about him, I meant it. And as to whether or not he was happy? My grandmother would probably know better than any of us, but despite how close they were, I’m not sure how much he opened up even to her.”
“Did she know about me?”
“I’m pretty sure she was the only one here who did. But she never told a soul. Whatever Charlie said to her went into the vault and has stayed there. Now that you’re here, however, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that she’s willing to talk to you directly.”
Mari shook her head. “I wouldn’t want her to feel that she’s betraying his confidences. Everyone needs someone they can trust to hold their deepest, darkest secrets.”
I want to be the one to hold yours.
He nearly said the words aloud. But it would only frighten her away if she knew the impact she’d already had on him. If she had any sense of how much he wanted to protect her. Help her.
Kiss her.
“I don’t imagine many people would feel that way,” he said in a low voice, unable to look away from her lips. Unable to keep from imagining how it would feel to have her in his arms.
And to taste her.
“We should be able to trust the people we love. And,” she added with a little smile that made his heart beat even faster, “you should be able to come here and eat Chinese food without having a philosophical discussion about trust and secret-keeping.”
Owen would have been perfectly happy to continue their conversation—he’d never gone so deep, so fast, with anyone before—but this was clearly her cue to move away from talking about her father for the time being.
She made tea with the green tea bags Sue had supplied. Bringing the teapot over to the table, along with two mugs, she said, “I’d love to hear about your experiences growing up here. All the buildings have such amazing history that I can’t help but think it must have been like living in a Harry Potter novel.”
He waited until she’d served herself before he filled his own plate. “One look at my secondary school would only serve to confirm your suspicions that all British kids live in a J. K. Rowling novel.” He spoke around bites of food. Mari, meanwhile, was devouring the mu shu pork. “The campus comes complete with stone gargoyles at the gate.”
“Seriously?”
He pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of his school on the Internet. “Seriously.”
She raised an eyebrow as she moved on to the shrimp fried rice. “You’re not going to whip out a wand and cast a spell over me, are you?”
He laughed. “Believe me, if I could cast a spell to get the shop and flat organized as quickly and painlessly as possible, I would.” When a shadow fell across her face at the reminder of how much work was ahead of her, he quickly pivoted back to talking about his childhood. “As I told you before, my parents’ sacrifices for me are why I nearly continued with tax law—I felt I owed it to them and shouldn’t chuck it in after all they’d done to help me get the degree.”
“Believe me,” she said, “I get it. It’s a big part of why I’m so torn over inheriting the flat and bookstore. My mom and stepfather have always been there for me. They’ve given me anything I needed. A great home. The chance to go to an excellent university, then take on a challenging job at the accounting firm. Choosing to come here—to consider staying in England—feels like a betrayal. To put it mildly, Mom isn’t thrilled that I’m here.” She twirled a few chow mein noodles on her fork, but didn’t make a move to actually eat them. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did your parents react once you left the law to work for your grandmother? I’m sure they were happy you were helping her, but did you ever get the sense they were disappointed by what you’d left behind?”
“It was the exact opposite. When they saw how much happier I was working with Gran, they apologized for not steering me toward something more fulfilling much earlier. In the same way that I didn’t want to diminish their sacrifices, they hadn’t wanted to diminish my achievements by suggesting I quit. We had been running circles around each other for years, when what we really wanted was for one another to be happy.” He held her gaze. “I know your mother’s relationship with Charlie was complicated, but I can’t imagine she would want to keep you from your happy ending. Or beginning, as the case may be.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” She licked her lips, drawing his gaze back to her mouth.
“You can tell me anything, Mari.”
“Owning a bookstore is my dream come true.” Her eyes sparkled with passion as she said, “I love books. The way they smell and feel and the endless worlds and possibilities and joy and dreams between the covers. I still can’t believe I’ve inherited a bookstore. Even today, when I was practically buried in dust, it was glorious. And the truth is that despite knowing how upset my mom is about my being in her ex-husband’s home—” She looked around the flat, which had easily two hundred books on shelves, side tables, and windowsills. “I love being surrounded by Charlie’s books. And though I know it’s crazy, I can’t help but think one of the gazillion books in this building is going to help steer me in the right direction in the end.”
“It’s not crazy, Mari. Nothing you’re saying is.” At the same time, he knew all too well the toll guilt took on you—and he hated the idea of Mari falling into that dark hole. “Tell me what I can help you with tonight that will lessen your load. So that you can see things more clearly.”
“You’ve already done so much. I know how loyal you were to Charlie, and I think it’s absolutely lovely that he had dear friends like you, but that doesn’t mean you need to bend over backward to help me when you have your own life to lead.”
“Right now, this is exactly where my life has led me. To you.” He let his words take root before adding, “I like you, Mari. And not only because you’re my friend’s daughter.”
* * *
Two days ago, Mari had been in her Santa Monica office taking care of last-minute emails. Tonight, she was sitting in Charlie’s Elderflower Island flat, above the bookstore she now owned, while an absolutely gorgeous Englishman looked at her with such heat in his eyes…
Could this really be her life? Could she be brave enough to admit—not only to Owen, but also to herself—that she felt the same way he did?
Barely twenty-four hours after meeting him, she felt the butterflies in her stomach flying faster and faster. And she couldn’t stop wondering how it would feel to press her lips, and her body, against his.
As though he could read her mind, he lowered his gaze to her mouth. Without thinking, she put her fingertips to her lips, tingling now from nothing more than the heat of his gaze.
Belatedly realizing what she’d done, she pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “I like you too.” Her words were barely more than a whisper. “But everything is already so topsy-turvy…”
“I’m your friend, first and foremost,” he reassured her. “No matter what else does or doesn’t happen between us, that isn’t going to change.”
She’d never realized how sexy kindness could be until tonight. A few more sweet words from Owen and she was liable to launch herself into his arms.
It wasn’t at all easy to stop herself from doing just that—or to remind herself that just as she tackled her client accounts with methodical precision, she should deal with the bookstore first. Once she knew what she was doing with it, then she could look harder at her feelings for Owen.
“Thank you.” She wanted to reach for his hand, but touching him would only set her heart racing again and the butterflies flying. Though she’d always thought that being methodical about everything was a good idea, at the moment she couldn’t quite remember why…. “Knowing I have a friend here, it helps so much. And your cleaning the fridge yesterday was pretty high up there on my list of awesome too. I don’t know many guys who would have been brave enough to tackle the mess.”
“My mum is the one to thank for that. She was a firm believer that her sons should excel at housework as much as sports or playing video games. All the more reason for you to tell me what’s next on your cleanup list.” Before she could protest that he must have better things to do with his time, he added, “My grandmother insisted on a night to herself at the cottage. Which means I’m yours for the duration, if you want me.”
She couldn’t keep the flush from her cheeks at his words: I’m yours. Her blush grew even hotter at the realization of just how badly she wanted him, despite trying to be rational about dealing with a ton of massive life changes and upheavals.
“What’s the most difficult task on your to-do list?” he prompted again while she worked to push away the longing, and the desire, welling up inside her.
At least this question was an easy one. Because while she was happy with the progress she’d made in the bookstore today, the truth was that she was still avoiding the hard stuff. “I haven’t been in Charlie’s room yet,” she admitted. “Maybe we could go through his things together?”
“Sounds good. And remember, once we’re in there, if you need a breather at any point—or just want to call a halt for the night—we can always just go across to the pub for a drink.”
“It’s tempting to chuck it in and go now,” she admitted. “But all these years, I had so many questions. Now that I’m here, I need to face whatever answers I get. Good or bad.”
They were standing at the sink, close enough for him to reach for her hand. “You’re a very brave woman, Mari.”
“I don’t know if I ever was before,” she told him in a low voice. “But now…here…I want to be brave.” She wanted it so badly, in fact, that she needed to prove it by taking a step forward instead of back. And then another. And another. Until she was close enough to Owen to see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. “I want to be brave enough to ask if I can kiss you.”
Heat surged between them as he replied, “Kiss me, Mari.”