“I think you’ve got a few years yet before you need to worry about excessive piercings.” Annie laughed.
“Maeve offered to do Esme’s ears with her sheep tagger.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “Esme thinks it’s a marvelous idea.”
The more Annie learned about John, the more intriguing she found him. There was a deep sense of honor buried within those rugged good looks. She was curious to meet Celeste; she sounded wonderful, sassy, and passionate like her father. Annie could imagine them locking horns: two strong-willed personalities. What must it be like to be beloved by John Granger? Annie couldn’t deny that she’d like to find out.
Chapter 61
Gemma had left to pick up the kids, and Annie turned the sign round to Closed on the door. The rain clouds had finally wrung themselves dry and were scudding across the sky as if eager to reach their next destination before nightfall. She had just finished stacking the clean cups and saucers on top of the coffee machine when a knock on the window made her jump. It was John. Annie found herself looking forward to his visits with increasing eagerness and an equal level of disappointment on the days when he didn’t come.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she called through the window.
John grinned and held up a clear plastic bag full of marshmallows.
“What are those for?” she called. “Have you finally gone mad?”
“Come on!” he called through the glass, and motioned to the beach.
“I can’t, I’ve got to clean up here.”
“Leave it,” said John. “I’ll help you later. Come on, you’ve been working all day. Come eat burned sugary fluff with me.” He pointed along the beach, where a thin curl of smoke was rising up from the pebbles.
She grabbed her coat and bobble hat and ventured out into the cold dusk.
The beach was all but deserted. John grabbed two patio chairs from outside the café, and they tramped down across the beach, their feet crunching and sinking into the loose pebbles as they headed toward a small campfire.
A sharp breeze whistled around her ears, and Annie pulled her hat down lower. John positioned the chairs next to the fire and pushed the legs into the shingle to steady them. Annie sat down, sinking a little as she did so, and John joined her, handing her a long metal toasting fork.
“You’ve come prepared,” said Annie.
“I used to be a Boy Scout.”
“Really?”
“Not for long. They threw me out.”
“You got thrown out of the scouts? What on earth did you do?”
“Consistent disruptive behavior; their words, not mine.”
“What would you have called it?”
“Being a little shit.”
Annie laughed.
They spiked a marshmallow each and held them in the flames, twiddling the forks this way and that. Annie was grateful for the warmth given off by the small fire.
“Are you absolutely serious?” John asked. Annie didn’t need to question his meaning.
“Yes, I am. I didn’t come here with the intention of starting a business. This was supposed to be a temporary stop for me to catch my breath. That’s one of the reasons why a short lease was so appealing.”
“And now?”
Annie breathed in the smoky air, so in contrast with the freshness of the cold afternoon. The waves whispered to the shore as they began to reclaim the beach in a long, slow embrace.
“Now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” Annie replied.
She pulled the fork out of the fire and tugged at the brown crisp edges of the marshmallow to reveal the molten sugar within. She licked her fingers greedily, wincing slightly at the intense sweetness, which made her jaw ache.
John took a more cautious, measured approach, blowing on his marshmallow before taking a tentative bite. He reached his other hand into his pocket and handed over a folded piece of paper.
“That’s the offer from the developer,” he said. “I understand that it’s for a different proposal than what you’re suggesting. His takes into account the profit he can make on the land.”
“And my offer will be for a business with dwelling.”
“Exactly. And I will take that into account when you give me your offer. I’m not greedy, I just need enough.”
Annie looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. She didn’t want to open it right now; she didn’t want to potentially burst this fantasy bubble she was living in, whereby a bright new future was laid out before her. And she didn’t want to sour this sweet moment they were sharing. Reality can wait a little longer, she thought, as she tucked the paper into her coat pocket.