“I think paying the gas bill was more of a priority.”
He sighs. “Okay, I’ll be five minutes. I’m out by the lake.”
“You’re still working?”
He chuckles. “Always.”
“I’d try and do it myself, but I think we all remember the time I tried to put that flatpack bed together.”
He groans. “I remember it vividly. You ended up with a load of screws that you hadn’t used, and when Silas got in the bed it collapsed and nearly broke his legs. Let’s not do that again. It wasn’t a fun moment. Anyway, you’ve got Cora. I don’t want you poking around on that thing when you’re looking after her.”
I try to dispel the sense of warmth I get when he goes protective. I think of how Thomas had started like that and the warm feeling disappears.
“I could do it though,” I say a bit too forcefully.
There’s a startled silence for a second. When he speaks next I can hear the warmth. “Milo, I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”
My feathers settle down again. “Okay. Just so we’re both on the same page. I don’t need you riding in like a knight to the rescue.”
I don’t know where this aggression is coming from, but predictably he chuckles. “I would totally have the biggest and best armour.”
“Size isn’t everything,” I say tartly.
“Baby, who told you that?”
His voice is deep and rich and filled with laughter and something that sounds very much like heat, making me swallow hard. “Never mind. I’ll be here,” I say and end the call on his laughter. I look down at Cora and groan. “I’ll be here. Where else would I bloody be?”
An hour and a half later there definitely aren’t any signs of humour about him. “Motherfucker,” he hisses as he fiddles with the recalcitrant boiler.
“Language,” I say primly, and he grunts.
I watch him, trying not to dwell on how gorgeous he looks. He’s dressed in his comfortable working clothes of jeans and a white long-sleeved t-shirt over which he’s slung on a denim jacket and on top a red and blue plaid padded shirt jacket. He’s wearing old work boots and his hair is messy, but he looks like a runway model as normal. I take a second look. A lumberjack runway model.
“Any good?” he asks, and I jerk back to reality and put my hand on the radiator for a long minute.
“No,” I finally say apologetically.
He straightens up and stretches with a grunt. “I give up. The bloody thing’s fucked. We’ll have to get someone out to it.”
“How much is this going to cost Silas?” I ask worriedly.
He scrubs his hands over his face, leaving a dirty streak down one chiselled cheekbone. “I’ve got a friend who’ll come and look at it. He’ll give us mate’s rates. But it’s got to be done now, particularly as the film company is coming in a month.”
I nod. “Well, Cora and I will be fine. It’s only October. It’s not even that cold yet.”
“There’s a frost coming tonight, Lo.”
I don’t question him. Niall has a countryman’s native instinct for weather and tides and anything to do with the earth. He’s always right.
He shakes his head. “You can’t stay here with Cora. It’ll be too cold.”
“Hotel?”
He looks askance. “No, of course not.” He stares into space, obviously thinking hard. “Maggie’s away now so that only leaves Sarah and Michael who live in. They’ll more than likely go andstay with the Thompsons in their cottage and you’ll come and stay with me.”
“I can’t do that,” I say, panicked.
“Why?”
