This time, Rowandidsmile. Not much. Not for long. But enough.
Marcus felt as if the sun had shifted slightly.
Rowan gave Atlas’s lead a gentle movement. ‘I’ll come... For the dogs.’
‘Of course,’ Marcus said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘For the dogs.’
Rowan nodded once, then turned back towards the steps with Atlas close at his side.
Marcus watched them go, the sea breeze tugging at his shirt, the morning already slipping away from him.
He had a full diary, no Georgina, a dog competition to organise, a meeting to plan, and a heart that had apparently decided to become interested in the most emotionally unavailable man in Seagull Bay.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Still, as Rowan paused at the steps and glanced back once, Marcus found himself smiling.
For the dogs, indeed.
Chapter five
How he’d managed it, he didn’t know, but with the help of Christine, who’d thankfully had a quiet afternoon, Marcus had managed to get the word around about the last-minute informal meeting for ideas concerning the dog-competition, to be held at The Cheese Wedge and Pickles at seven o’clock.
Locking the door of his dog-grooming parlour, Marcus smoothed back his hair. His shirt had been drenched washing Declan’s enormous St Bernard, Fernando, when Marcus had been distracted by a Chihuahua, a new client whose owner had failed to keep a hold of in the waiting area, even though Marcus had relayed the parlour’s strict rules that dogs must be leashed at all times. Fernando had just had the suds washed out of his long, thick coat when the Chihuahua had run circles around Marcus, wrapping his lead around his legs. Not even his thick apron had been able to save him from the shower, as Fernando had shook the water from his coat. Thankfully, he kept a couple of old T-shirts for accidents just like that.
Rowan would just have to see him in his Cinderella phase—thank goodness he’d worn his ballroom clothes for the beach meeting.
There had been no time to clean up after his whirlwind of a day, so he’d either have to come back tonight and do it, or first thing.
How he missed Georgina.
A cacophony of noise greeted him as he walked into The Cheese Wedge and Pickles. Had he chosen the worst night for a meeting? He couldn’t remember if tonight was quiz night or not.
Jack’s head appeared above a group at the bar, and he gestured to the part of the pub where the pool table was. ‘Marcus, we’re all in there.’
Marcus gave him a thumbs up, and then pointed to himself, making a drinking motion, and then to the bar. Jack nodded his understanding.
Marcus looked around while he was waiting to be served. It wasn’t quiz night, but it was certainly busy. He tried to fool himself that his curiosity for searching the sea of faces, was only to see why the pub was so busy on a Tuesday evening, but in fact, he was searching for one face in particular.
‘Good evening, Marcus. Usual?’ Leanne the barmaid’s voice pulled his attention back to the bar.
He smiled warmly at her. ‘Evening, Leanne. I didn’t realise I had a usual.’
‘A pint of lager-top, right?’
Marcus nodded, ‘I guess I do then. Yes please.’
Marcus looked to the other end of the bar to a flustered Nile, who was pouring shots for a large group of people Marcus surmised were holidaymakers.
‘No Pippa and Oliver this evening?’
Leanne pointed in the direction Jack had disappeared. ‘They’re in the pool room. They’re attending the meeting you’ve organised.’
Marcus’s brow lifted. He thought maybe Pippa would attend, but he was pleased both Pipp and Oliver—the original dog competition organisers would be there to advise him.
He paid Leanne, and then fought his way through the crowd to get to the backroom, where the meeting was apparently going to take place.
