‘Can I ask you to sleep on the sofa?’
‘Of course. That was actually my plan. Ieven put clean sheets on the bed whilst you were gone. I suppose if I get lonely down here, I can always talk to Gerald.’
‘You can.’
‘Now that that’s settled, tell me, what has your day been like as the new owner of an antique shop?’ he asked, sitting back at the table.
‘On the whole… it’s been interesting, but I’m absolutely shattered and need my bed.’ She pointed to the stairs.
‘Fair enough,’ he said, grabbing her suitcase and carrying it up the stairs to deposit it in the bedroom.
‘Sweet dreams, city girl,’ he said, giving her a little salute before closing the door.
There was a beat of silence before a loud moo floated in through the window, causing her to jump.
‘Daniel!’ she shrieked.
The door creaked open again, and there he was with a lopsided grin.
‘I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to sleep on my own,’ she said quickly, before she could talk herself out of it.
‘If you insist,’ he said, stepping into the room.
‘You have to stay on your own side of the bed.’
Daniel smiled. ‘Anything you say, city girl.’
‘What is that noise?’ she asked, as the moo sounded out again. ‘It sounds like cows.’
‘It’s the puffins! Welcome to Puffin Island!’
Fern turned to find the moose’s glass eyes staring right at her.
She prayed she was going to survive the night.
ChapterSeven
Dressed for bed, Fern stood in the middle of the bedroom, arms crossed, assessing the house of horror she had agreed to spend the night in. The moose head loomed above the bed like a judgmental overseer, its beady glass eyes catching the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The different-coloured ancient curtains fluttered slightly in the draught from the ill-fitting window. And then there was the bed itself. Despite Daniel claiming it was spacious, it was actually narrow, lumpy and utterly unsuitable for two people who barely knew each other.
‘You look like you’re trying to summon the courage of a condemned prisoner,’ Daniel observed. ‘I’m not that bad.’
‘That is debatable.’ Fern eyed the lumpy pillows sceptically. ‘Pretty sure these pillows are stuffed with antique dust mites.’
Daniel let out a laugh before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the room, but Fern didn’t take her eyes off the chaos that surrounded her. How had this happened? This morning she was in her stylish London flat, surrounded by sleek furniture and pristine everything. Now she was in a building surrounded by antique horrors and a moose that looked like it was plotting something sinister.
Exhausted, she flopped onto the bed. Just as she’d thought, it was uncomfortable and smelled faintly of something old, though that wasn’t surprising, considering the entire shop was a museum in, and of, itself. The sound of an electric toothbrush caught her attention, and she rolled her eyes towards the bathroom door, not expecting to see Daniel in just a towel, casually going about his business. Her eyes fell on his toned shoulders as they flexed with the motion of his arm. She blinked. It took her a second to process what she was seeing. Daniel didn’t exactly look like someone who spent their days lifting dumbbells or doing squats. Yet here he was, impressively built.
Her stomach did a little flip. Butterflies. She actually had butterflies. She groaned inwardly, feeling ridiculous. She’d known the second she saw him on the train there was something about him, a kind of chemistry, but she reminded herself that indulging that thought could lead to a whole new level of complicated. Despite the good-looking lodger, she was here to get the shop sold and get back to London as soon as possible.
He walked out of the bathroom, now wearing pyjama bottoms, and she briefly closed her eyes, feeling him slip underneath the covers. The bed dipped alarmingly under his weight and in a moment of sheer survival instinct, Fern reached for the extra pillows and wedged them firmly between them.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Building a wall,’ she said, stuffing another pillow into place. ‘This is a diplomatic boundary. You stay on your side.’
Daniel grinned. ‘Are you actually being serious?’
‘Deadly.’ She fluffed the last pillow and lay back, satisfied with her makeshift fortress. ‘You could be a mass murderer for all I know.’
