“Why not? It’s not like it’ll go anywhere, with him being the earl’s heir and you being a publican’s daughter.”
“And I don’t want it to.” She didn’t. Her focus needed to be on Bowhaven, not on the man who was driving her mad.
“Good. So enjoy yourself with a fit American.” Daisy held up her pint glass in toast.
Brooke left her own glass on the bar. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
Daisy groaned. “Is this about that wanker Reggie?”
“I really don’t want my private life to again be the gossip talked about at tea.” Once in her lifetime was more than enough for that. It had taken a long time to get the villagers to see her as something other than that foolish Chapman-Powell girl who thought she could pass as posh with a footballer boyfriend and life in the city.
“So don’t let anyone know,” Daisy said.
The possibility of it had her looking over at Nick again, only to find him checking her out. “Like that’s possible in a place like Bowhaven.”
“’Course it is. All you have to do is work a little at it.”
Something in her sister’s voice, a sort of excited happiness that hadn’t been there before, yanked Brooke’s gaze away from Nick and back to her sister—who was looking at the tall forest ranger staring right back at her like she was the best thing ever.
“Are you telling me that you and Riley…?”
Da
isy blinked her large blue eyes and looked over at Brooke, grinning. “Not yet, but I’m considering.”
If the queen had said the line of succession was skipping her son and going straight to William, Brooke couldn’t have been more taken aback. After all this time of watching Riley crush on Daisy with no results, she’d begun to doubt anything would come of it. And judging by the determined look in her sister’s gaze when she peeked at him over the top of her pint, something was definitely going to happen.
“But enough about me,” Daisy said, jerking her chin toward the other end of the bar. “Looks like your man’s leaving.”
Brooke didn’t have to turn to know who her sister meant. “He’s not my ma—”
“Hey, Nick,” Daisy hollered over the din. “Are you on your way to the big house? Because Brooke was just getting ready to leave, too, and doesn’t have a car.”
“You were supposed to take me back,” Brooke said, aware that half the eyes in the pub were now trained right on her.
“It’s no big deal,” Nick said, cutting the distance between them. “Happy to help.”
“Brilliant,” Daisy declared while all Brooke wanted to do was fall into a hole.
Nick and the other American he was with—it had to be his mate from the movie company, judging by the easy camaraderie between the two of them—walked over from the other side of the bar.
“Daisy and Brooke, meet my friend Mason Pell, who’s the reason why the production company is here in town,” Nick said. “Mace, these are the Chapman-Powell sisters. Beware, they’re going to take over the world someday.”
“Well, at least Bowhaven,” Daisy said.
“We’re looking for extras for the big zombie wedding ball scene,” Mason said. “Interested?”
Brooke answered “no” at the same time Daisy said “yes.”
“One out of two ain’t bad,” the other man said with a laugh.
“You guys can talk details.” Nick slid his palm across the small of her back, sending sparks through her. “Ready to go, Lady Lemons?”
There. That was what she needed, a reminder of their places in this world. He’d be running the big house and she’d be working in it. Her chin lifted a little higher as she marched half a step ahead of him out of the pub, reminding herself that no matter how good it felt to have him touching her again, he wasn’t for her and never could be, not even for six months out of the year.