She had the grace to look uncomfortable. ‘Look, we were passing, and I saw your car was missing so I knew you were out. I thought we’d just pop in, get the bag, and be gone. It certainly hadn’t been my intention to catch you in flagrante delicto with your latest bit on the side.’
Rhys’s expression darkened. ‘You’re way out of line and you know it.’
‘What does “grante-deli” mean?’ asked Tasha innocently from her spot in his arms.
No one enlightened her.
Rhys looked down pointedly at the bunch of keys on the worktop. ‘This wasn’t why I gave you a key. And you know that.’
Annalise bit her lip.
‘Well, we have the ballet bag now, so everything is fine,’ she said breezily. ‘Come on, Tash, say goodbye to Daddy and let’s go.’
‘Oh, can’t we stay and have breakfast with Daddy and Ellie?’
It’s hard to know which of the three adults looked most horrified at the suggestion.
‘Maybe another time,’ Rhys said, giving his daughter a kiss.
‘Come on, honey, let’s go to the swings like we planned.’
Tasha smiled, easily mollified. The speed with which Annalise had flipped from bunny boiler to kindly mum was fast enough to make my head spin.
Neither Rhys nor I said a word until Annalise and his daughter had left. For a long moment we didn’t move. We were so new, so fragile, this could easily destroy everything. He opened his arms, and it would be a long time before I forgot the look of uncertainty in his eyes as he waited to see what I would do next.
I stepped into them like it was the only place I belonged.
‘That was not meant to happen. Not ever,’ he said, his words whispered into my hair. ‘That key was for emergencies.’
‘I guessed that,’ I said into the fabric of his t-shirt.
He leant back, creating enough space between us so that he could see my face. ‘I’ve only ever been honest with you, Ellie.’
I nodded. I knew that now. I just wished my first instinct hadn’t been to mistrust him. He’d been honest about his own trust issues, but it appeared there were still some fairly major ones on my side too.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Those are supposed to be for the customers.’
Jackson paused in the act of biting into an icing-topped cupcake. With a look of pained reluctance, he lowered the confectionery, which now bore a neat indentation of his teeth, and gave a charming shrug that I was willing to bet was one of the reasons Lars had fallen for him. He was kind of hard to resist or stay mad at.
‘Well, you might as well have it now,’ I said, my eyes going to the counter where several platters of cakes and pastries were set out. I glanced at the clock. Just ten minutes until we officially opened the doors of Florrie’s. Flyers had been sent out. There were posters in practically every shop window in the high street, as well as a large ad in the local paper. But there was still every chance that Jackson could end up eating more cake today than he’d ever be able to devour. What if no one showed up?
With that uncanny way she’d always had of knowing exactly what was troubling me, Mel came up and threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug.
‘Stop worrying.’
‘Who said I was worrying?’
She gave a humph of laughter. ‘You’re kidding, right? You look as tautly strung as a violin string.’
‘And your forehead looks like a before ad for Botox,’ added Jackson around a mouthful of sponge cake.
‘Not helping,’ Mel said, shoving him off towards the counter, which was currently being manned by Beth from Crazy Daisy.
‘I’ll just go and pay for my cake, shall I?’ he said, glancing back over his shoulder. ‘What does it cost anyway? There are no prices on anything.’
I exchanged a smile with Mel. It was something we’d discussed almost from our very first conversation about Florrie’s. I wanted people to come and spend time here without having to worry about the cost or whether they could afford it. That was why there was a collection tin, rather than a cash register, on the counter.