Love By Moonlight: A Small Town Grumpy Sunshine Romance (Solhaven Forevers Book 2)
Love By Moonlight: Chapter 4

Daniel picked up the fork from his unused breakfast place and used the handle to draw a pattern on the tablecloth, silently brooding. He’d slept well last night, and the view from his window had been more than pleasing. He itched to walk the coast with sketchbook and camera, and knew he’d get some great stuff round here. But, but, but… it meant putting himself into debt to the lovely Claire—server from last night, also related to the owners, and also the hotel gardener.

He shot her a surreptitious glance, his artist’s eye—so he told himself—appreciating the line of neck and jaw, the thick, slightly curling hair today falling loosely over her shoulders, and her beautifully shaped mouth. His eyes dropped lower to the curve of her breasts and his body stirred in response—the same reaction he’d had last night. Hell!

Pity she wouldn’t be up for a one-nighter. Sex would be so much easier than thinking of her as a potential friend, someone he could talk to or share things with. He was too raw to let her in. He was almost, if he was honest, frightened to let her in. If he accepted her offer, would she move on him? He thought she was attracted to him, but he could have read it wrong. Besides, last night he’d been damned tired. If she was interested though, she hadn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of entangling him in a relationship. Yet he, too, was aware of a spark sometimes flashing between them, however unwelcome it was, and he was more than aware of his body’s tentative lust.

But this place she mentioned, this cottage, which she said was on the edge of the beach, sounded ideal. It must be the place Sebastian had talked about. Her sympathy, and her kindness in giving up her home, however new it was to her, tugged at his heart and stirred emotions he’d rather leave well alone. She didn’t deserve to suffer because of the emotional burdens he carried. That thought alone surprised him, but it was followed by another, even more startling. Maybe they could be friends, despite his earlier concern? Casual friends? She’d know the area and might be helpful pointing him to the more dramatic coastline. They didn’t have to discuss anything personal, but stick with light, neutral topics. And he could easily push her away if she wanted anything more.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped the fork and looked up, hoping he wasn’t about to make an enormous mistake, but unable to cope with any more uncertainty. ‘Okay, I’ll take you up on your offer. I’ll even critique a painting.’ Watching carefully to see what her reaction would be, Daniel was pleased she simply lowered her cup and suggested they check in with Emily at the office.

‘There’ll be a rent.’ Claire stood up.

‘I didn’t expect to get it free,’ he replied dryly, wondering if he was decent to stand. She was having too much of a physical effect on him, and he didn’t like this softness he felt towards her.

‘How much are you prepared to pay?’

‘The going rate. I don’t want favours.’ Because favours put you in people’s debt, and these days, he preferred to be independent.

He stood, used the excuse of tucking in his shirt to adjust his jeans, thankful his reaction to her had mostly died down, then followed her to Emily’s office, where they sorted out a rental price.

‘Go pack your stuff,’ Emily told him. ‘Claire will take you down in the buggy. We can leave you one, if you want? We never intended guests to be down there because of the distance, you see.’

‘No need,’ he replied brusquely, already moving to the door. ‘I can walk up here. I assume you don’t mind the car being left outside?’

‘Not at all,’ Emily replied courteously.

Aware of them watching him, he ran up the stairs. In his room, it only took him moments to pack his overnight bag, which was all he’d bothered with last night.

On his return, he found Claire waiting for him.

‘I need some things from my car. I’ve got my travelling painting kit, and a bigger easel, which I keep permanently in the boot.’ He didn’t look at her as he walked towards the front door.

Silently, she followed him, and he felt the tenseness in his shoulders relax a little. At least she wasn’t batting her eyelids and trying to make small talk.

Once in the buggy, she drove it competently down the gentle slope on the far right of the extensive grounds which led from the hotel towards the coast.

‘The gardens look as if they need some attention.’ Surprising himself, Daniel broke the silence.

‘Mmm. Nothing much has been done to them for over a year, and even before then, I don’t think Henry was bothering much. Emily and Jake got some contractors to tidy it up when the house was being converted, and I’ve concentrated on immediately round the house this last week. I couldn’t start until the end of the school year because I was a teacher. I retrained on the side, and now I’m a gardener.’

‘Obviously you prefer it?’

She gave a small snort. ‘Well, yes. Otherwise I wouldn’t have changed careers, now would I?’

Chastised, Daniel looked out of the side of the buggy, across a vast expanse of grass with trees on the far side. He wasn’t up to normal conversation and banter.

He was aware of Claire’s sideways glance. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snarky.’

He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. ‘You weren’t. It was a stupid observation on my part.’

‘Yes, but you were trying to make conversation, and I shouldn’t have shot you down.’

‘You didn’t,’ Daniel said impatiently. ‘I’m a big boy. Forget it, okay?’

Her eyebrows went up, and she bit her lower lip. He felt bad about his terse reply. Not a good beginning if he’d been thinking about a friendship.

Hell, he didn’t know which direction his thoughts were going. One minute, he wanted to screw her. Then it was no, strike that, maybe they could be friends? That was quickly followed by perhaps she’d got no interest in him at all? Running through it all was the thought if he acted coolly towards her, he’d put her off. Ah, but no—he recoiled from that, because she was kind, and they might actually get on well…

And so it went, leaving him with no idea what to do at all. This was the first time he’d felt anything towards a woman in over two years. Having this attraction spark to life after he’d determined to avoid romantic entanglements was disconcerting and unexpected.

Damn Gina!

When they drew up outside a small, white building, his breath caught in his throat, and he slowly climbed out of the buggy, looking around him. Gulls wheeled above, white against the cerulean sky, the waves gently lapped on the nearby shore, and grass, flowers, seaweed and ozone combined to create an amazing fragrance. These things immediately soothed him. Collecting his two bags, he opened the small gate and followed the path down the side of the cottage to arrive at a small, flagged patio encircled by a low wall. Over the wall was the shore—a tumble of small rocks, a stretch of soft sand scattered with dried seaweed, bits of old rope, and the odd piece of driftwood—and then wet sand and the sea. It was stunning. It was perfect. No wonder Claire loved it so much.

Claire, who had joined him, spoke, her voice quiet as if in respect for the utter beauty surrounding them. ‘The beach isn’t used much because it’s a two-mile walk along the cliffs from Solhaven that way, and four miles from Howgale in the opposite direction. But at low tide, you can walk on the beach from Solhaven, and it’s only a mile, so you sometimes get a flurry of folk then. And, of course, hotel guests.’

‘Where’s the coast path?’

‘It drops onto the beach at the far end and climbs back up at the other end. It’s passable even at high tide, except if there’s a spring tide or a storm.’

‘No alternative route?’

‘Yes. You can go up the side of the Haven House grounds and head over the fields behind the hotel. It adds about a mile, but it’s easy walking.’

Daniel sat on the low wall, leaning back on his hands. ‘You sound as if you know it pretty well.’

‘I should!’ Claire threw back her head and laughed. ‘I grew up here, after all. This cottage was always my dream home, truth be told.’

Daniel’s eyes widened. ‘Then you—’

Claire held up her hand. ‘I said, if you recall, I can postpone living here for another few weeks. It’s not a problem, and I know it’s waiting for me.’

He turned away to look over the beach. There was a family wandering along the edge of the gentle surf, a man walking his dog, who took great delight in rushing into the sea, barking wildly, and a horse rider cantering along the small strip of hard, wet sand.

‘Looks like the tide is going out,’ Daniel commented.

‘It is. There are some tide tables in the cottage to keep you straight.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever come across a more idyllically situated place. I can see why you call it your dream house.’

‘As a child, when I walked over here, I’d lean against that rock, see? The one over there…’ she pointed to a large rock jutting from the sand. ‘I’d dream that one day I’d live here, but had no idea, mind, that it would ever come true.’

Her voice had softened and a hint of a Welsh accent crept in. Daniel smiled, seeing in his mind’s eye the hopeful girl. ‘Was that why you became a gardener, so you could live here?’ he asked jokingly, a smile lighting his dark features as he sat down on the low wall.

Claire glanced at him. ‘Of course,’ she replied with a grin. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘Why did you give up teaching?’

‘Too much pressure on me and on the children. Learning seemed to be a matter of jumping through hoops. Diverging from the curriculum was impossible because every second of every lesson was accounted for and had to be covered. I stopped enjoying it.’

‘But why a gardener?’ Daniel was genuinely curious. ‘Won’t you get bored?’

‘I think not, no. To re-create the Victorian garden is going to take time, dedication, creativity and determination, but it’ll be in my own time and on my own terms. Then I have my painting, which has been sorely neglected in the last year or two, and oh, lots of other things. No, I won’t be bored, but I do think I’ll start appreciating life again instead of just existing.’

It sounded ideal, and very similar to how he lived his own life. ‘Victorian garden?’

‘Yes. Emily wants the whole of the grounds returned to what they were like when the house was built in the eighteen hundreds. It’s going to take several years before we’ll complete the restoration.’

‘Sounds amazing.’ He was staring at her, enjoying her wide smile and enthusiasm, relaxing in the warm sunshine and lulled by the sound of the waves and mewling gulls.

Claire stepped towards him. ‘Look, I’m sorry to dump you, but I have to get to work, so I’ll show you round and I’ll—’

‘No need.’ He’d talked to Claire too much and needed to back off, so he picked up the bags he’d set down outside the door. ‘I can find my own way round. Just let me have the keys and you can go.’

She stared at him, clearly taken aback by his rapid mood change and abrupt dismissal. ‘But I—’

‘The keys,’ he repeated, his mouth tightening in annoyance as she protested.

Claire lifted a hand, offering him a tight smile. ‘Will you let me get a word in edgeways? I need to collect my things. You can keep any food there is—and I warn you it won’t be much because I’ve been eating up at the hotel—but my eBook’s in there, my toiletries, and a few clothes.’

He was silenced, then stepped forward and opened the door. ‘Get your stuff,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll wait out here. I’ll sort myself out when you’ve gone.’

Her eyes widened, and a flush stained her cheeks at his rudeness. Her chin rose in a defiant gesture of pride, and he couldn’t help but admire her. Left with little choice other than to turn and walk inside, Claire stalked off to the door.

There was a small, weathered table and two chairs on the patio, and while he waited, he sat, fighting to regain the contentment he’d felt only moments before, while he’d been talking to her.

Morosely staring over the beach at the sea, glittering in the bright sunshine, Daniel shook his head and huffed out his breath. He hadn’t meant to annoy her, but he couldn’t cope with being shown round because it would mean more chat. He was unused to talking these days, and he’d just about had enough. He wasn’t sure he liked what happened to him when he was around Claire, and the sooner she left, the better. From now on, he’d take great pains to avoid her. Ideas of a friendship were probably unwise. He couldn’t consider any kind of relationship other than a quick fuck. No involvement needed, just a release of sexual tension.

Within a few minutes, Claire reappeared, a carrier bag in each hand. ‘Thanks,’ she said with detached politeness. ‘I need to get to work now.’

Without another word, she walked round the side of the house and he heard the whine of the buggy’s electric engine gradually fade as she drove back to the hotel.

Good. He’d got rid of her.

So why did he feel a sense of loss? Why did his self-imposed isolation seem a poor alternative? Standing, a frown on his face, he picked up his bags and went inside the cottage, shutting the door with a bang. He was still annoyed with himself for his rejection of someone who had so far been unfailingly helpful and kind.

But it had to be done. He didn’t want the slightest risk of getting entangled with her. Unless she wanted that fuck, of course. Be great if she did, but women liked emotional ties, getting close, dependency. The best way to proceed, as it now seemed he’d be living here over the summer, was to freeze her out. Now.

Leaning against the closed door, Daniel tipped his head back and blew out another sigh. He hated the fact his wife had damaged him so badly he no longer believed in love. His mother hadn’t been a barrel of laughs, either, and had played his father for a fool. Gina had, initially, seemed different, but as his fame had grown, she’d changed, loving being in the spotlight at events he was invited to, flirting with anyone famous. Then the affairs had started. And then—his thoughts came to a rapid halt. He could never contemplate her ultimate betrayal without a desire to punch his fist into something, or howl to the skies, because he was angry, and he was broken.

He wouldn’t go there. He wouldn’t go there!

Twisting his lips, he pulled away from the door and wandered through the kitchen into the good-sized living room. There was plenty of light, with large French windows opening onto the patio, and another window to the side. Upstairs were two bedrooms separated by a small bathroom.

On his return to the kitchen, he pulled open cupboards and drawers, checking what there was, and making a quick list on his phone. Before he painted, he intended to buy in some food and drive round the immediate area, see if there was anywhere which jumped out at him, to start his first sketches.

His thoughts drifted to Claire. She’d be useful as a guide, and she seemed fun.

No!

He would retreat into his customary world of solitude. That was the best way. There would be no more hurt if he kept himself isolated. And love, as he’d decided two years ago, was for fools.

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