A smile lifted the corners of Marcus’s mouth. ‘Did you find someone?’
Rowan nodded. ‘Yes, an American couple needed a three bed for a year. The man is going to be based at a nearby air base. They said it’s the perfect rental for them, and his commute to work. They move in at the beginning of next month. So that gives me three weeks to get things sorted, and enough of my things here so I’m not living out of a weekend bag.’
Marcus wrapped his arms around Rowan and squeezed him. ‘That’s marvellous news. And the timing is perfect. The kitchen fitters are due to start work next week. You will be here, and Iwon’t have to worry about keep having to pop back to check up on them.’
‘Oh yes, that works well.’ Rowan immediately looked down at Atlas, and Marcus followed his gaze.
A small frown creased Marcus’s brow. ‘Do you think Atlas will be all right with strange people in the house? Especially now he’s found his spot.’
Rowan nodded, lifting his gaze to settle on Marcus’s face. Marcus could see the proud look, which had become permanent behind Rowan’s eyes, was still blazing strong. ‘Yes. He’ll be fine.’
Marcus’s face suddenly beamed. He bent down and picked up Rowan’s weekend travel bag, then grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the freshly painted front door. ‘Come on. I’ve got something to show you.’
Atlas quickly got up, and side stepped both men, and pushed his snout through the three inch crack in the door, letting himself in first. Marcus’s chest expanded. He loved that Atlas had already made the cottage his home.
Marcus pushed the front door all the way open. ‘Ta da!’
Rowan stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping open. ‘You did it. You went with the paint colourIchose.’
Marcus looked around at the small entrance hall. Before decorating, it looked far narrower than it was, now with the Tallow cream paint, suggested by Rowan, instead of using wallpaper, like he was initially going to use, the hallway not only looked brighter, but wider too.
‘Mmmm, I love the new smell,’Rowan said.
Marcus stole a kiss on Rowan’s cheek. ‘I love our new beginning.’
Atlas barked and jumped from side to side, as if sensing the playfulness between them.
‘Oh no,’ laughed Rowan, ‘get ready.’
‘Ready for what?’
‘Zoomies!’
Marcus’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open as he watched in amazement as Atlas began running from room to room. Then he chuckled, delighted Atlas was displaying a classic dog characteristic, showing how happy he was.
Rowan laughed heartily, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when he did zoomies again.’
They stood still, both in awe as they watched Atlas for a full five minutes, before he collapsed from exhaustion in his favourite spot, panting, his long tongue lolling out of his mouth.
‘He’ll need some water,’ fussed Marcus.
‘He knows where it is,’ Rowan smiled.
Marcus sighed with contentment. ‘Right. I’d better be off. Georgina will be wondering where I’ve got to.’
Rowan turned to look at him. ‘Meet me and Atlas in the pub at twelve?’
Marcus grabbed his umbrella from the coat rack. ‘Make sure there is a piña colada waiting for me!’ he winked, then left.
Looking up at the sky, he furrowed his brow. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. The weather forecast must have got it wrong. As he headed down into the town, looking out at the view that greeted him daily. The sea shimmered as the morning sun caught surface ripples, and the distant excited shrieks of gulls signalled Ben was already throwing them titbits of waste from his fish cart.
Marcus smiled contentedly as he inhaled deeply, catching the scent of seaweed of the back of a salty breeze, and someone’s cooked breakfast, as the unmistakable smell of smoked bacon made his stomach growl. He’d been so excited getting the house prepared for Rowan’s long-weekend visit, he’d forgotten to eat breakfast.
The tinkling of the tearoom bell announced his entrance. Marcus noticed Jack first, who had lots of documents spread around his half eaten full English breakfast.
‘Good morning, Jack. Hard at it already?’
Jack looked up, still chewing. He smiled and swallowed. ‘No rest for the wicked, eh, Marcus.’
