Zack nudged over, eyeing the food. “Are those safe to eat if your class made them?” he said.
“Perfectly. The pupils are well supervised. But you’re not having any. They’re for the kids.” She smacked his hand. “Are Jake and Scott sorting the fire?”
The fire had started to smolder with the odd flame crackling up over the wood. Scott Maynard had started it when he’d first arrived, ignoring Jake’s jokes about setting his beard on fire and threatening to toss him onto the fire instead of the guy. From what she’d seen, the guy was a traditional one, more representative of pagan traditions rather than representing Guy Fawkes, who’d been arrested and hung nearly four hundred years ago for trying to blow up the Houses of Parliament.
The guy was currently sitting in a wheelbarrow just outside the clubhouse, awaiting his fate. Sorrell had never quite understood the enjoyment behind seeing a human replica being tossed onto the flames and the glee it caused, but she had learnt not to say too much about it.
“Jake and Scott, and then Jonny’s team are on duty,” Zack said. “At least he’s here with a couple of the other guys.”
“They’re firefighters?” Sorrell said. Zack was close to her, close enough that she could smell the musk of his aftershave. She inched away, not sure how to deal with his proximity.
“They are. Jonny went from starting fires to putting them out,” Zack said. “At least it was that way round though.”
“How’s Severton’s favorite hotelier?” Jake’s voice was clear and deep and full of laughter. He was the light to Zack’s dark, and Sorrell could tell that although they were cousins, they were closer than brothers. The bond between them was thick and tight.
“Not hotelier yet,” she said. “Not until I have the first set of guests.”
“About that,” Jake said shifting uncomfortably.
“No,” Zack jumped in. “You said you weren’t going to do it.”
Jake shrugged. “Business is business. Anyway, do you have bookings for April next year over the Easter period?”
“No, not yet. I’m not expecting any that far in advance until we’ve actually opened. Which might not happen if I can’t find a breakfast cook,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. She’d spent part of the day contacting recruitment agencies but there was a shortage and she didn’t want to take on that responsibility herself. She could bake, but cooking was a different matter entirely.
“I can help you find a cook, if you can block out the Easter weekend plus two days before,” Jake said, his smile easy.
Noise had started to mount up around them, excited voices of children echoing through the room from outside.
“The whole hotel?”
Jake nodded. “We’re starting a new tradition. God knows Severton is full of old ones, so I decided we’re going to have a country show, but one of the main attractions will be alpacas.”
“Holy fuck,” Zack muttered. “You can’t keep your alpacas where they should be. Mrs Hepplethwaite nearly had a heart attack when one wandered into the garden today when she was filling up the bird feeder.”
“Mrs Hepplethwaite’s heart is strong enough to withstand old Tiger popping up. That woman tried to batter me with her newspaper the last time she saw me,” Jake said.
“That’s because you ruined her roses when we were twelve.” Zack knocked back the rest of his coffee.
“Still. I need a place where I can guarantee rooms will be available for the big names on the show circuit.” Jake now directed his smile solely at Sorrell.
She knew she should’ve been attracted to him. He was carved by the same sculptor that crafted male models in photoshoots for top designers, with striking blue eyes and long eyelashes, a straight nose and chiseled jaw. But as handsome as he was, he didn’t stir her insides like… She glanced at Zack.
He wasn’t in the same category of model handsome like Jake. His skin was fairer, his stubble lighter and his eyes paler but they held an intensity that Sorrell hadn’t missed.
Zack shook his head. “Jake, have you spoken to my dad about it?”
Jake shrugged. “He was cool about it.”
Zack hands went in his pockets and his stance became a little wider. “Have you asked him?”
Jake nodded. “It’s still his farm. He might’ve been a bit preoccupied when I asked though.”
“Why? What was he doing?” Zack’s voice was full of caution.
Jake shook his head. “He was online. Chatting to someone. I don’t know who as I didn’t see the screen.”
“Fuck,” Zack said and looked at his feet.
