“Work experience for school, wasn’t it?” Brandon remarks, tone polite, eyes fixed on the road.
Willoughby blinks, just once, then huffs a laugh. “Yep. And I know all the ins and outs—including the secret passages.”
Ellenor twists around in her seat. “Secret passages?”
He grins, winking as his fingers thread through mine. The touch startles me—his hand warm, strong, his rings glinting as they catch the light.
Gravel crunches beneath the tyres as we pull into the car park. I’m too aware of Willoughby’s hand, my pulse out of sync with his easy grip. I swear I feel the shadow of Brandon’s stare, but when I glance at the mirror, his eyes are fixed straight ahead.
I’m relieved to have the excuse to let go when we climb out. I tell myself it’s only to keep things from feeling awkward. But deep down, I know that’s not the whole truth.
***
We wander through the Rose Gardens, Willoughby by my side, Brandon and Ellenor a step ahead.
I didn’t expect a double date. I didn’t expectanyof this craziness. It wasmeant to be a peaceful outing, but instead, I’m on edge. My nerves haven’t been this taut for weeks. I thought I’d finally shaken this anxious, twisting feeling…
But it’s back.
It’s all I can do to paste on a smile and hold it together.
Much as Willoughby’s exuberance usually lifts me, it’s too much today. I need space to think. I’d rather be back in my room at the cottage, guitar in my lap, filling the silence with quiet notes.
It reminds me the cottage won’t be my sanctuary much longer. Tomorrow’s my last full day here, and it’s already chock-full of plans: Brandon’s BBQ lunch at Rupert and Barbara’s, and my gig with Willoughby in the evening. Between that and Ellenor and me packing, cleaning, and tidying the flat, I won’t have a second to catch my breath.
Or to have a moment alone with Brandon.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and I push it away. I can’t believe I’m dating one man and thinking of another.
To my relief, Ellenor keeps Willoughby occupied as we explore the castle grounds. I don’t know what he did to rub her the wrong way, but her questions seem relentless—and he answers every one with effortless charm.
When she asks about his uncle, he launches into a story that gives me a few blessed minutes to drift forward and join Brandon near a cluster of white roses.
“Hey,” I say, wringing my hands.
“Hello.”
“I’m sorry about this morning,” I blurt. “I didn’t know Willoughby was coming. He just…showed up.”
“It’s fine,” he says evenly. “It’s a small town.”
“I didn’t even realise he knew your address…” I pause as realisation hits. “Oh no. The sign-up sheet. From the open mic. I wrote it down ages ago.”
He gives me a wry smile. “That would do it. Don’t worry—Jack’s always had a way of turning up where he’s least expected.”
“He mentioned things were better between you two.”
“Did he?”
I wilt. “So…that’s a ‘no’?”
Brandon seems to consider this, thumb grazing a rosehead, his expression unreadable. “Better, maybe. But things won’t ever go back to the way they were.”
Of course not. How could they, when they both knew Nova, both loved her? Both lost her. Though he’s never said, I’m sure he resents Willoughby for it.
“Sorry for letting him into your house,” I mumble. “I should’ve told him to wait outside. I just…” I break off, fumbling for something safer to say. Something polite, even if it stings. “Anyway, those were lovely roses you gave my sister.”
He doesn’t answer, and I add, “I’m…happy for you two.”
