A Fresh Start on Crumcarey (Crumcarey Island #5)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

LUKE

L uke did his best not to look as Maggie reappeared from the bathroom. She hadn’t quite finished buttoning up her overalls, and there was a tantalising glimpse of soft skin on display. He didn’t want to be that guy. She’d come to him for help, and there was no way he was up for doing anything that might make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already was.

Instead, he focussed on finishing chopping up some ginger and scraping it into the already-sizzling onions in the pan sitting on his little countertop hob. He might not have an oven yet, but it was amazing what you could do with four rings at your disposal.

‘Something smells good!’

Maggie’s soft voice close behind him made him look up again, and he was both relieved and a bit disappointed to discover that she’d clearly noticed and rectified the open-popper issue. Luke cleared his throat and made a show of rubbing his eyes on his sleeve – as though the cooking onions were to blame for his gaze drifting out of his control.

‘Nothing fancy, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Just a bit of a stir fry and some rice – hope that’s okay for you?’

‘Sounds brilliant!’ she said, and Luke breathed a sigh of relief to hear genuine enthusiasm in her voice. ‘Here’s the wine,’ she added, giving the bottle a little waggle. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘I’ve already dug out the corkscrew,’ he said, motioning with his head to the newly installed drainer by the kitchen sink. ‘If you wouldn’t mind doing the honours?’

‘I’m on it!’ said Maggie.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have wine glasses,’ he said quickly. ‘Best I can do is those jam jars.’

‘Hey – I’m not knocking it!’ said Maggie, and he could hear the warmth of a smile in her voice even though he couldn’t actually see her. ‘You have wine… that’s way more than I brought. I don’t care what we drink it out of!’

Luke focused on chopping the mound of veg in front of him, all the while fighting the urge to turn and just stare at the beautiful woman in his kitchen. This day had taken a very weird turn indeed. He almost felt like he’d conjured Maggie up… he had been thinking about her non-stop since breakfast at The Tallyaff, after all.

‘How was your first day?’ he asked, glad to have stumbled on a topic of conversation that felt relatively safe. Luke didn’t know much about Maggie, other than the fact that she had a dumbass ex who’d basically abandoned her here on Crumcarey, and a cottage that sounded very much like it was in the process of falling down around her ears. Neither of those topics shouted light first-date conversation!

Not that this was a first date.

At all.

Gah!

‘It was great, thanks!’ said Maggie, her voice pulling him back into the present and stopping him from heading any further into the hole he was busily digging for himself. ‘My feet are killing me though,’ she laughed. ‘I’m not used to so much standing… or stairs! I’ve been up and down to the guest rooms that many times today, I lost count. I don’t think I’ve had to climb stairs since I moved here. The cottage is like this – just the one floor.’

‘I bet your feet will get used to it pretty quickly,’ said Luke. ‘But… why don’t you sit while I sort the food out!’

‘Not a chance,’ she said, her smiling face appearing at his side. She placed his jam jar of wine down next to the chopping board. ‘That’s not how saving this particular damsel in distress works. What can I do to help?’

Luke grinned at her. He couldn’t help it. ‘You could make the sauce for this lot?’

‘I’m on it! Have you got some soy sauce… sweet chilly?’ she said, peering around at the decided lack of kitchen cupboards available to rummage through.

‘There’s a box of jars and bottles over there in the corner,’ he said with a nod, as he started to finely slice a courgette into batons.

‘So… to answer your question,’ said Maggie, the box of condiments clinking as she began to rummage through them, ‘other than my feet, today was brilliant. Olive’s lovely – and there are so many visitors, there’s no chance to get bored!’

‘Urgh… the one thing I hate!’ chuckled Luke. ‘I prefer to keep busy.’

‘Erm yeah… I can see that,’ said Maggie.

He glanced over at her, only to find her staring around the open-plan space he currently called home with something a bit like wonder on her face. It made something strange and warm settle in his chest.

‘So… how long exactly did it take you to get this place from barn to cosy cottage?’ she said.

Luke paused in his chopping. ‘About two weeks?’ he said. ‘I mean – I’ve been here for just over three, but I stayed a couple of nights in the farmhouse with Uncle Harris, until I realised that wasn’t an option.’

‘Why not?’ said Maggie, sounding surprised.

‘The snoring,’ muttered Luke. ‘Uncle reckons it’s the dog, but considering you can hear their duet all the way over here… I’d say it’s both of them. And let that be a warning for later - don’t freak out if you hear something ominous in the middle of the night. It’s just those two and their nose flutes!’

‘Noted!’ chuckled Maggie. ‘Right, I’ve got mango chutney for sweetness, soy sauce… and a bit of actual chilly… have you got any cornflower?’

‘Erm… nope?’ said Luke apologetically. ‘I’ll grab some for next time, though.’

‘Okay,’ said Maggie.

Luke instantly wanted to kick himself. He’d just managed to invite her on a second date without meaning to! Not that this was a date… not that…

Shut up, Luke. Stop thinking… just cook!

As Maggie grabbed a clean jam jar from his stash and started to mix a sauce for the stir-fry, Luke couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to have her in the cottage. She just seemed to get on with things – comfortable with the easy silence as they both concentrated on what they were doing. It was weird. He never usually felt this comfortable with another person in his space – especially not someone he’d only just met!

‘You know… I’m really sorry to land on you like this and spoil your evening,’ she said, popping the glass of mixed sauce down next to him and then taking a sip of her wine.

‘I’m glad you did,’ he said, happy that he was able to say it quite so truthfully. ‘And you’re definitely not spoiling my evening! There’s no way I’d be up for you heading back to the cottage anyway. Not until this storm calms down and it’s light enough to see what the damage is.’

Maggie nodded, looking anxious.

‘And, for the record, I’m glad you chose to stay here instead of heading over to The Tallyaff. I wouldn’t fancy getting caught out in that right now!’

The pair of them paused, listening to the wind as it howled around the farmyard.

‘Yeah – that wouldn’t have been a fun drive!’ said Maggie. ‘It’s just…’ she trailed off and Luke raised an eyebrow. The ease that had existed between them just a couple of minutes ago seemed to have evaporated.

‘What is it?’ said Luke in concern. ‘Look, I totally get it. You don’t know me. Maybe… how about after we’ve eaten, I could walk you up to the farmhouse. We can ask Uncle Harris if you can sleep there. I’m sure he won’t mind. You know him better, and…’

‘You wouldn’t subject me to the nose flutes?!’ gasped Maggie in mock horror.

‘Only if you wanted,’ said Luke.

‘I definitely don’t – thanks!’ said Maggie with a small smile. ‘As long as you don’t mind me kipping on your sofa for the night, of course.’

‘No chance,’ said Luke firmly.

‘Oh,’ said Maggie. ‘I get it… I mean, I—’

‘You get the bed. I’ll take the sofa.’

‘I couldn’t possibly!’ said Maggie. ‘Don’t worry – I’m not a princess.’

‘You’re taking the bed,’ he said firmly. ‘Either that, or you can walk home!’

He hadn’t meant the last bit of course, and the storm seemed to be in on the joke as it chose that moment to grab hold of the front door and give it a good rattle.

‘The bed sounds perfect!’ said Maggie quickly, letting out an easy laugh.

Less than twenty minutes later, they both carried heaped bowls of slightly sloppy stir fry and rice over to the kitchen table. Maggie let out a sigh of relief as she finally sat down.

‘Cheers!’ she said, raising a forkful of food in his direction instead of her glass. ‘Thanks for coming to my rescue.’

‘Cheers!’ said Luke, mirroring her and then stuffing the forkful into his face before he could say anything cheesy and spoil the moment.