I dropped my hand and stepped toward the store. “Well, thank you for seeing me to the store . . .”
“Wait.” Roane moved toward me, his expression eager. “Evie, I don’t make a habit of asking tourists out but I can’t help myself. You’re brave, you love animals. You’re stunning. I’m a mere mortal.” His chuckle had a slightly disbelieving tone to it, like he couldn’t understand himself in that moment. “So please have a drink with me tonight?”
It would be a lie to say I wasn’t extremely flattered by Roane Robson’s attention. Or that I didn’t very much want to know what it would feel like to have the most tempting mouth I’d ever seen on a guy in real life pressed against mine.
But I wasn’t here for a fling.
I was here to find myself.
I turned to him, deciding to be as forthright as Roane was being. “I’ve sworn off men. Not forever. But absolutely while I’m here. No men.”
Roane’s eyes rounded with surprise, and he reached up to scratch his cheek, the sound of fingernails against the bristles of his beard overly loud in the quiet morning.
And weirdly arousing.
After a few moments of contemplating me, he threw back his shoulders. “Have you sworn off friendships with men?”
Stupid disappointment rose in me, and invisible hands quickly moved to stuff that feeling back down, somewhere deep and dark inside me where I’d forget about its existence. “Friendship is good.”
He dipped his head to me, his lips curled at the corner in what seemed to be a perpetually teasing way of his. “Then have a drink with me tonight at The Anchor. Let me say thank you properly. And maybe you can tell me where you come from—why you came here for four weeks and swore off men.”
I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t.
But didn’t I come here to experience something different? A new place, new people, and maybe a new me?
Becoming friends with an English farmer was definitely a new experience. Who cared if he could grace the front cover of “The World’s Hottest Farmers” calendar? “Okay.” I smiled. “A drink. But I’m warning you, my story isn’t that interesting.”
Roane’s grin widened. “Somehow I doubt that.” He glanced down at his dog and then back to me, his expression somber. “In all seriousness . . . thank you, Evie.”
Realizing Shadow probably meant just as much to him as Duke had meant to me, I answered quietly, “You’re welcome, Roane.”
With that, he nodded and took a step back. “I need to return to the farm. I’ll see you tonight at eight o’clock.”
“I’ll see you then.”
As he and Shadow turned and strode back in the direction they’d come, I realized how breathless I’d been in Roane’s company and sucked in a lungful of air.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I muttered, watching them disappear.
“You met Roane then—”
“Argh!” I cried out in fright and turned to find Penny standing on the sidewalk, as if she’d appeared out of thin air.
Her lips twitched. “Sorry, pet, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “It’s not you. It’s . . . been an interesting morning.”
“Oh, aye, I heard about that from Milly. Saved Roane’s dog, did you?”
I frowned, glancing behind me and back to Penny. How could she have heard from Milly, who was in the opposite direction, and then appear at my back as if from nowhere? Had Milly called Penny immediately to tell her what had happened? Obviously.
Village life. News traveled fast.
She chuckled as if she sensed my bemusement, and gestured toward the store. “Open her up then. Let me show you the ropes.”
It was as I unlocked the door that I suddenly felt the stinging in my left palm and on my knees. Looking down, my jeans were covered in dust from the fall, and the left kneecap looked a little threadbare too. I must have hissed because Penny queried, “You all right, pet?”
“I’m fine. Probably have a skinned knee or two from the fall.”
“There’s a first aid kit in the flat. Would you like me to get it?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’m fine, thanks.”
She nodded, accepting this. “Okay, let’s get to work then.”
But before we could, there was a loud rap on the door, and we turned to see a man peering in at us. “You open, Penny?”
She frowned and hurried to open the door, letting the man in. He had graying dark hair and startling pale blue eyes, and he wore a brown lightweight coat with a white apron underneath it. “Did you leave the store?” Penny asked, sounding surprised.
“Young Matthew’s watching it.” The man threw me a flustered nod. I put him around the same age as Penny and wondered at their connection. Turning to her, he said, “Lella dropped the bomb on me this morning that she’s supposed to read Twelfth Night by tomorrow for homework. I’m really hoping you have a copy.”