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That was the point when he could have said it’s my career too, you bloody mean-arse. Or all manner of things she wouldn’t have blamed him for. But he didn’t, because he was kind like that. It made her feelings for him swell even more.

‘If it helps, I haven’t felt like anyone’s first choice for a long time. Sylvie needed someone trustworthy. You went out with all the popular guys before you’d look twice at me, when we were younger.’

‘I did have a brief bad-boys phase,’ she said guiltily. ‘But it didn’t last. I was immature and just wanted to look cool. All the girls on TV liked guys with a motorbike and a shady reputation. I honestly thought you were too good for me. And too cute.’

He looked sceptical. ‘My brothers have genuine, happy marriages with women who adore them. But the only woman I ever fell in love with left for London and had her pick of impressive guys and didn’t look back.’

‘But I …’ She lifted her hand to his face and uncreased his brow. ‘I didn’t know things then.’

But she knew better now. She could tell the world how she felt about him and take some of those hurts away. Couldn’t she? Or maybe she could just make it up to him in private, for a short while longer.

He nodded, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose. ‘And I know that. I’m not sharing any of this for the sympathy vote.’ There was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘But to let you know sometimes we all feel like we might not be good enough, or we’re nobody’s first choice, or we’ll never get our own ridiculously romantic love story.’ He nodded at the TV. ‘But if Billy Crystal can bag Meg Ryan, there’s hope for us all.’

‘That’s true.’ She laughed.

‘Do you think you’ll stick around after our seven tasks are done?’ he asked, looking suddenly unsure of himself. His eyes darted to his phone.

Where had that come from?

‘Has someone said something?’

‘Of course not. Well, sort of. I did get a couple of social media messages, but it was just a lame attempt at trolling and nothing that bothers me.’

‘Devan?’

‘Seriously. In my line of work, I experience it all the time, and I’m sure you get things too.’

She nodded. ‘And it’s early days, in terms of me deciding what I want to do after these tasks are over. I just don’t know. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. I was with my last boyfriend for nearly two years, and I was packing my suitcase as soon as he started to look smitten. The thought of staying is nice – on a good day. But relationships aren’t always a bed of geraniums. What if we’re still in our honeymoon period and it’s less easy when real life and commitments kick in? What if my ingrained instinct is to run when things get tricky or emotions run deep? What if I’m just a big old, frightened wimp?’

And she was acutely aware that if she was going to spend more time in Hartglove, she would have to stop dodging her father and the final handful of history that still troubled her. As well as things were going, there was still an L-word she was struggling with, and if she was ever going to ace a relationship, she ought to find the root of that too.

‘It sounds like you need ice cream and a pep talk from a certain eleven-year-old. You do know Emmalina will be knocking on your Cow Shed door if you don’t agree to that date soon? And meeting her doesn’t mean marrying me and buying a three-bed semi in Hartglove. I’ve told her we’re just “friends”.’

Well, she didn’t want the poor girl getting a complex. Or banging down her door with insightful life advice.

‘Then I guess it’s Peanut Butter Triple Beasts, with extra whipped cream, all round.’

Maybe meeting this young force of nature was just the brave next step she needed.