“Funny guy,” Abby muttered.
“Do you even know how to swear, Abby? If you don’t, I can whisper some words in your ear for later.” Matt grinned.
Abby wagged a finger at him. “You’re a rascal, Matt Donaldson.”
“Aye, so I’ve been told. Now where are the scones? And what do you need me for?”
“It isn’t important.” Abby chewed her bottom lip, something she never did—it went against her very proper upbringing. “I wanted your advice on something. It can wait until we’ve had tea.”
“Happy to be of service. Especially when I’m being fed at the same time.”
Abby led the way through the grand hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. Katy held her hands up to Matt, who picked her up without missing a beat and carried her to the food. He made impressed noises when the baby girl showed off the new nail polish she’d painted her fingers with—not just her nails, her whole fingers. And if Jena wasn’t mistaken, she’d also put lipstick on her eyebrows again.
The kitchen was huge, like the rest of the house. The Victorians loved their grand proportions. A large oak table took up a chunk of the floor space. The matching chairs had a selection of patchwork cushions in warm colours. It was peaceful, pretty and welcoming. Jena sank into a chair as Matt put Katy down in her play corner. Jena expected him to come sit beside them, but instead he sat on the rug beside the four-year-old and listened to her tell him all about Minnie Mouse and Donald getting into trouble for having a disco in the bathroom.
“Mum says Minnie’s not allowed to play with water anymore,” she said before looking at her mum. When she was convinced Abby wasn’t listening, she leaned towards Matt and cupped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell her, but it wasn’t Minnie who made the mess.” She giggled as she stage-whispered. “It was Donald.”
Matt tickled her. “And who helped Donald, you little monster?”
“I don’t know, Uncle Mattie.” Her eyes were wide with faux-innocence.
“Your mum’s in town, then?” Abby said as she handed Jena a cup of tea. In a pretty blue porcelain cup and saucer. Jena wasn’t even sure Abby owned a mug. “When did she get here?”
“Oh, I’d guess about thirty-six hours after Frank called and told her I was living in the same town as Josh McInnes.”
Abby grimaced. “I can’t say the words I’m thinking, but they’re bad ones.”
“Not bad enough,” Jena said.
“We should call Caroline and warn her that your mother is here to pester her husband.”
“I’ll do that.” Matt stood. “I need to make some calls anyway.”
He nabbed a plate, loaded it with scones and jam and headed out of the back door. He stayed close to the house but far enough away so he had the privacy he needed to talk. As soon as he was out of earshot, Abby turned to Jena.
“What’s going on with Matt? You two look cosy.” She waggled her eyebrows. It looked silly on a woman who was the walking definition of elegance.
Jena laughed. It felt good. “Nothing’s going on. He’s only sticking by me until Frank leaves town.”
“Uh, huh, and I’m the Queen of England. Pleased to meet you.”
“Are you really, Mum?” Katy sounded hopeful. Jena hid her chuckle behind her cup.
“No, sweetie,” Abby said. “The Queen is just a cousin.”
Jena spat her tea. “You’re related to the Queen? The real one? The one in Buckingham Palace?”
Abby waved the questions away as though they were nothing but hot air. “Distant cousin. It’s not like we pop down for holidays. It’s no big deal. The Queen is related to half of England.”
Jena wasn’t convinced. If she was related to the Queen, however distantly, she’d get a T-shirt printed so everyone knew. Maybe even invest in a tiara. “You know, Abby McKenzie, you are really good at keeping secrets.”
“Isn’t that good for you, because if I wasn’t I’d tell everyone you and Matt were getting it on.”
“We are not!” Well, not really.
“Why not? He’s gorgeous. Single. Honest. Fairly intelligent—when he’s not being a sexist fool. Although I’ve often thought that most of the offensive things he says are deliberately spoken to get a reaction. He does love to wind people up. Especially the twins.”
Jena reached for another scone as Abby topped up her teacup. The memory of Matt’s kiss derailed her thought process. She could still feel him on her lips. Still taste him. Thinking about the kiss made her think about the way he’d held her in the hardware store. Which led to a full-colour replay of their time in the kitchen. She shivered. The man oozed sex appeal. It flowed from him like a waterfall. It was impossible to get close to him and not get a little wet.