She shot him a look.
He blew out a breath. “Come on. I know a place we can visit that always lowers my blood pressure.”
* * *
Bennett tookthe bend in the country road and heard Hadley hiss.
He glanced over and saw her gripping the door.
“I forgot how narrow country lanes are here,” she grumbled. “And the hedges are so close that you can’t see a damn thing.”
“Don’t you trust my driving?” he asked.
“I don’t trust theotherpeople driving.”
He pulled over to the side to let a car pass. Bushes scratched along the side of the car.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
They were just outside Oxford. They’d passed through several tiny villages.
Hadley sighed. “Even at the end of winter, the countryside is beautiful.”
The lane turned, twisting through lots of trees that arched overhead, covering it like a tunnel. Right now, they were missing their leaves, but come spring, they’d be bursting with green. The fields would fill with wildflowers.
Then he slowed and pulled through a rustic stone gateway.
“What is this?” Hadley leaned forward. “A farm?”
“Yes.”
“Whose farm?”
“My parents.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “Your parents? You’re taking me to meet your parents?”
“You said to do something so I could get a grip on things.” Anger was still a low hum in his blood. “Sitting in my mother’s kitchen, eating whatever she’s baked today, always does the trick.”
Hadley’s mouth flattened into a line.
“Not everything Mum bakes is good. She can be a bit hit or miss.” He winked. “Don’t tell her I said that though, or I’ll deny it. And my father fancies himself a farmer. He has some sheep, and an orchard. Don’t get him started on his goats and making goat cheese, though.”
“Bennett—”
“Here we are.” The house came into view.
It was a rambling cottage, made of natural stone and wood. In the summer, the garden was lush and filled with flowers. His mum was better with plants than most of her kitchen pursuits.
“My parents moved here after they retired.” Bennett had bought the farm for them. “Dad was career Army, Mum was a schoolteacher. High school. She wields that teacher voice like a pro.”
“You’re close to them.”
There was a wistful note buried deep in her voice. “Yeah. You’re not close to yours?”
She made a scoffing noise. “They aren’t the worst people in the world.”