As she waited for Agnes to answer the door, she smoothed her hair and tried not to think about Ryan. Hours had passed, and yet she could still feel the roughness of his jaw against her cheek, taste the heat of his mouth and remember the delicious explosion of pleasure he’d drawn from her with each skillful, intimate stroke of his clever fingers. Most of all she remembered the way he’d focused on her, as if she were the only thing in his world. The roof could have fallen in on the cottage, and neither of them would have noticed.
Never in her life had she felt as if she were the focus of anyone’s world. In the three years she’d spent with Neil, not once had she lost control. Sex had been a choice, not a need, and it had always followed a predictable pattern. She’d always had the feeling that either of them could have walke
d away at any point, and it wouldn’t have mattered. After Ryan had walked away, she’d felt so wound up and frustrated she’d almost chased after him and begged him to finish what he’d started.
Lizzy tugged at her arm. “Your face is red.”
“It’s the sun.”
She was wondering how she was ever going to look Ryan in the eye again, when the door opened. Any awkwardness she might have felt from the knowledge she’d spent the previous night physically welded to this woman’s grandson melted away under the warmth of the welcome.
As for Agnes and Lizzy, it was love at first sight.
Some friendships, Emily knew, were instant, and this was one of those.
Within five minutes of knocking at the door, Lizzy was sitting at the kitchen table eating freshly baked chocolate cookies as if it were something she’d done hundreds of times in her life before.
“Handsome bear.” Agnes slid her glasses onto her nose and took a closer look at the toy clutched tightly in the child’s fingers. “Ryan’s sister Rachel had a bear just like him. He’s upstairs somewhere. I had to mend him a few times. Looks like yours could do with mending, too. Would you like me to do that for you?”
Lizzy glanced at Emily and then slid the bear across the table.
Understanding the trust implicit in that gesture, Agnes examined it carefully and then produced a sewing box from a cupboard. “It’s nothing serious. Just something that happens when a bear is very loved. Emily, could you thread the needle for me, honey? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Emily dutifully obliged and then glanced around the sunny kitchen as Agnes settled down to mend the bear. This, she thought, was how she’d imagined a kitchen should look. The countertops gleamed, pots of fresh herbs were lined up along the windowsill, and delicious smells wafted from the stove. Through the windows she could see butterflies flitting through the colorful blooms that crowded the lush, leafy sanctuary.
“You have a beautiful home.”
“It’s too big for one person. I rattle around like a bean in a jar.” Agnes glanced up from her emergency repair and saw Emily looking at the herbs. “I love to grow my own food, but it’s harder now I can’t tend the garden myself. So, Ryan bought me herbs I could grow on the windowsill.”
Having finished the cookie, Lizzy slid off the chair and wandered after Cocoa, leaving Emily with Agnes.
“Thank you for letting us borrow Cocoa.”
“I call her my therapy dog because having her around makes everyone feel better.” Agnes tilted the bear toward the light and sewed, each stitch minute and carefully aligned. “Did she make Lizzy feel better? Ryan said she hasn’t been sleeping well.”
“He told you that?”
“Not the detail.” She glanced over the top of her glasses, and there was a sharpness to her gaze that hadn’t been dimmed by failing vision. “He told me you were looking after your niece.” She snipped the thread and handed the mended bear back to Emily. “It’s always challenging when life sends you a responsibility you weren’t expecting.”
“It happened to you.”
“Yes.” Agnes stared at the garden for a moment, a faraway expression on her face. Then she smiled. “Why don’t you make us both a cup of tea, and we’ll take it through to the living room. I love early summer, and I don’t want to waste a moment of the sunshine. I can’t sail any longer, but I love to watch the boats. Ryan is the same. It’s in his blood. His father spent every moment of his time on the water.”
Suppressing an impulse to ask a million questions, Emily followed Agnes’s directions and made tea, added cookies to a plate and carried it all through to the living room at the front of the house.
It was a room full of warmth and charm, flooded with natural light. A large bay window overlooked the sloping garden, and she could see a narrow path winding down to the small rocky cove below.
“This house is perfect.”
Agnes gestured to the window seat. “That’s my favorite spot. On a clear day you can see right across the bay to the mainland. Do you like sailing?”
Emily put the tray down on the table. “I’ve always been afraid of the sea.” And under that quiet, sympathetic gaze it all came tumbling out, all of it, right up to the point where Ryan had kissed her.
That small detail she omitted, although she knew that at some point she was going to have to think about it, to work out what to say next time their paths crossed.
That time arrived sooner than expected. She turned her head to take another look at the view and saw him striding toward the house, talking on the phone. He took the steps two at a time and then paused, staring across the water as he continued the conversation.
Agnes watched and then shook her head. “There are times when I could drop that phone into the cookie jar and put the lid on it. Technology has a lot to answer for. Still, I suppose it means he can join me for lunch occasionally and isn’t tied to his desk.”