Ruby laughed. Flynn’s exuberance was infectious. “Well, she’d be right, I guess. I’m sticking around for a week or so to do some sightseeing, but then I’ll be flying back to Virginia.”
“Really?” Flynn gestured for her to follow him toward a bench on the main path. “Where are you planning to visit?”
“That’s the thing.” Her body buzzed with a mixture of excitement and nerves. “I haven’t made any plans. I’m just going to…see what happens.”
“How intriguing.” Flynn’s eyebrows rose. “A woman with a sense of adventure. I like that.”
“If you only knew.” She shook her head, feeling what remained of her bun sliding around loosely. “This is so unlike me. I’m an over-planner. I have a spreadsheet for…well, everything.”
“Define everything,” Flynn said, his gaze locked on hers, intense, but not in an alarming way, more like he was hanging on her every word.
“I have a spreadsheet to help me manage all my spreadsheets.”
Flynn laughed, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That is unusual, I’ll admit.”
She grinned. “I’m an unusual woman, what can I say?”
“I like it. Tell me more.” He sat on the bench, patting the empty spot beside him.
She sat, feeling a hundred times lighter than she had a few minutes ago. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”
“Ruby, there you are!” Ellis came around a bend in the path, beelining toward her. He stopped in front of the bench with a slight frown. “Who are you?”
“Flynn Bowen,” Flynn said. “And you are?”
“Ellis Mayberry,” he announced with an air of self-importance. “Ruby and I were just about to dance. Weren’t we, Ruby?”
“Actually, you asked, and I said I wasn’t in the mood,” she told him, letting her voice fall flat in annoyance.
“Well, I…” Ellis gaped, seemingly—finally—at a loss for words. “What happened to your hair?”
“I decided to try a new look,” she said, reaching up to touch the side of her head. “What do you think?”
Ellis stared at her, his mouth opening and closing in silent confusion.
“I think Ruby’s hair looks rather lovely this way,” Flynn said. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Ellis stammered.
“Well, nice meeting you,” Flynn said pointedly.
“Likewise, I’m sure,” Ellis muttered before turning and walking off in the direction of the estate.
“Is that wanker the reason you were hiding behind a rosebush when I found you?” Flynn asked, his tone a mixture of humor and annoyance.
“Yes. Does my hair look that terrible?”
“Not at all.” Flynn gave her a discerning look. “Although it does look a bit like you and I were going at it behind that rosebush.”
“Now who’s a wanker?” she teased, ridiculously charmed by his accent.
“Never,” he deadpanned.
“My hair’s a total mess. I can tell.” She patted the back of her head, coming out with a bobby pin…and a thorn. “I’m going to take it down.”
“I’ll help if you like,” he offered, reaching over to tug another pin out of her hair. And since there were about a million more where that came from, she agreed.
“Thank you.”
