“Side projects that got you a book deal you won’t fulfil if you don’t give yourself the time to write it. Shut your face a moment while I find you some place to hole up for the summer.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to point outhewas the one who hadn’t shut up since we’d sat down together for the first time in months, but I couldn’t be bothered. What was the point? Rhys was a force of nature when it came to other people’s problems, and for this brief moment, I loved him for it.
“Why do you have the Airbnb app on your iPad when you only ever go to the clinic and the gym?”
“Hmm?” I blinked at Rhys as his words sank in. “That’s not fair. Idohave a life. If I didn’t, I’d have time to write the book.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Rhys said. “But I don’t remember you leaving London recently.”
“How would you know when you spend all ofyourtime working or hanging around that sex club?”
Rhys flipped me off, but he was more right than I cared to admit. I settled for gathering our empty glasses with a scowl and retreating to the counter for more of the kale-pineapple-protein smoothies that would probably be my dinner.
When I returned to the table, Rhys slid the iPad to me. “Found you somewhere. It’s on the coast and quiet.”
“Which coast?”
“South-west. Down near Newquay.”
“Newquay isn’t quiet.” I took the iPad and studied the room for rent he’d found on a Cornish horse farm. “It’s full of surfers and teenagers.”
“Not all of it,” Rhys protested. “And I said it wasnearNewquay. Not in the town itself. The farm is further inland.”
I studied the gallery of photos on the farm’s profile. The scenery was stunning, and the room itself was gorgeous—wooden floors and beams, a large bed, and even a desk by the window where I could set up my computer to write.
“See,” Rhys pressed when I didn’t speak. “It’s perfect.”
Itwasperfect, but all the four-poster beds in the world didn’t solve the issue of my packed patient list. But still... something drew me to the images scrolling across my iPad screen. I’d never been on a farm in my life, but there was no denying London was too brutally suffocating for me to get done what I needed to do. I had a choice to make: bite the bullet and take some time out of the real world, or stay home and let go of an opportunity I’d been damn lucky to get in the first place.
Common sense told me there were easier ways of making this happen. That I could simply cut down my hours at the clinic. Scale back my private clients. But a whisper of something I didn’t quite understand argued that I had no business writing a book on the power of the mind if I couldn’t reason with my own.
Rhys put his hand on my arm in a rare show of fraternal affection. “So? What’s it to be?”
I shrugged and reached for my smoothie. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Two
Joe
I walked out of the police station the following morning to find my sister, Emma, having a panic attack at the wheel of my battered VW Transporter.Brilliant.Like I needed a boatload more guilt on top of everything else.
Sighing, I wrenched open the driver’s door and pried her sweaty hands off the steering wheel. “What are you doing here?”
“Someone had to pick you up,” she muttered through chattering teeth. “George left for his friend’s funeral last night, remember?”
Shit. “I forgot about that. Who brought Shadow down from the top field?”
“I did.”
“How? He’s got the wind up him at the moment. Pulled me over last week.”
“I managed,” Emma said. “Just. We’ve got no sugar left, though.”
Her smile was tight. I pulled her out of the van and gave her a hug, enveloping her elfin frame in my much larger arms, taking care not to smother her. Emma was as strong as any man—stronger—but she was fragile too, and I felt like a proper wanker for dragging her out when agoraphobia kept her on the farm for weeks at a time. “Seriously, girl. You didn’t have to come out.”
“Actually, I did.” Emma pulled back and fixed me with a look that made me wish I’d drunk a hell of a lot more than half a pint of shandy before I’d got nicked. “You can’t keep doing this, Joe. Mum’s upset, and we’re both terrified you’ll get in real trouble one day. What’s going to happen to the farm if you end up in prison?”
“Don’t be daft.” I released her and stepped away, hoping that she’d get in the passenger side and be done with it, but she didn’t move. “Jesus. I didn’t get charged with anything.”
