The River House

“You can plant all the flowers you want,” Olivia said lightly. “Jess says Mark didn’t want so much as a petunia out there. He’s more amenable to flowers in the village. I think he still sees the river house as a camp.”

Maggie grinned. “I’d get a flower doormat, too. De-Flanagan the place altogether.”

Felicity couldn’t help but laugh, but she also decided a shift in subject was in order. Then a quick exit. “How did Dylan get Gabe to do the boot camp?”

Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know the details. I imagine Mark was involved. Gabe has quite a reputation as a start-up entrepreneur. He’ll have a lot to offer on Saturday.”

“You two were always tight, Felicity,” Maggie said, plopping onto a chair by the cold fireplace. “You didn’t stay in touch?”

“We did for a while.” Felicity left it at that and hoped it was a sufficient answer and didn’t sound evasive. She didn’t want to get into any details about her and Gabe’s parting-of-the-ways. “I should get going. Thanks so much for dinner, and the company. Take care, Olivia, okay?”

“I will. Thank you again. I’m glad you were there when I went wobbly.”

Felicity didn’t argue, but she was convinced Olivia had actually fainted.

Maggie took another glass off an open shelf. “You’ll have to join us for one of our girls’ nights out, Felicity. We’re overdue for one.”

“I’d like that. The brownies are great, Maggie. They’ll be perfect for the party.”

“We’ll have low-carb goodies, too,” Maggie said. “It’s awesome to have an event planner in town. I’m good with food, but party favors, guest lists, registrations, RSVPs, entertainment—my head starts to spin.”

“We make a good team, then, because I’d poison everyone if I did the food.”

“Accidentally, of course,” Maggie said with a grin.

“Don’t get Maggie started,” Olivia said, tucking her feet under her on the couch. “She’s got a list of people she’d merrily poison.”

All in good fun, Felicity thought as she said good-night and headed outside.

She took the stone walk back to her beat-up Land Rover. It was tucked in the back of the barn’s discreet parking area. She understood that buying the house from Mark was naturally a source of curiosity in town, but she doubted anyone knew just how much work it had taken the past three years to get to the point where she could qualify for a mortgage. No doubt in her mind she’d have done it without Gabe’s prodding, but she doubted he’d see it that way. He’d take credit.

Didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know her financial status.

And it was a reach, wasn’t it, to think he might be interested? He’d had three years to show an interest in her, and he hadn’t.

“Just as well.”

She focused on the drive out to her house. It was a beautiful evening, the sort that used to draw her and Gabe out to the river to sit on a blanket and look up at the stars.

It was nearly dark when she arrived. She went inside, poured herself a glass of merlot and took it out to the deck. She was grateful she’d been there to help Olivia and that she’d only been a bit dehydrated. She didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she’d left two minutes earlier and Olivia had fainted without anyone around. If she’d hit her head... But she hadn’t, and all was well.

Felicity listened to the river as she sipped her wine and forced herself to relax, calm her thoughts. “I love it here,” she whispered. “Totally love it.”

Gabe’s arrival in Knights Bridge and his involvement with the boot camp party were temporary distractions. Get through Saturday, and her life would return to normal.

* * *

Felicity refilled her wineglass, lit a citronella candle and sat with her feet up on another chair, listening to the soothing sounds of the river as dusk gave way to night. She deliberately avoided thinking about work. Her days often didn’t have hard start and stop times, and she always had eighty million things on her to-do list. All eighty million could wait until tomorrow.

Halfway through her wine, she heard a car out front. Hers wasn’t a well-traveled road. She expected the car to continue on its way and loop back to the main river road, but instead she heard an idling engine and, in another moment, silence.

Company?

She set her wineglass on the table, jumped to her feet and trotted down the deck steps and out to the driveway. A gray BMW SUV was parked behind her car. A man was behind the wheel, but she couldn’t make out his face. No one else was with him. She didn’t recognize the car. Dylan McCaffrey, here to get reassurance about his pregnant wife’s fainting spell?

Then the driver’s door opened, and Gabe Flanagan got out, stretched and looked straight at her in the shadows. “Hey, Felicity. Long time.”

“Almost three-and-a-half years.”

He grinned. “I knew you’d remember.”

She’d fallen into that one, hadn’t she? Not off to a great start. What was he doing here?

He shut the driver’s door, standing now in the light from the house. He was as strikingly good-looking and confident as ever. Visibly muscular and more obviously the successful start-up entrepreneur in his expensive, perfectly fitting clothes. Three years ago, he’d sit for hours at his laptop in a T-shirt and cargo shorts.

“We’re all set for Saturday,” Felicity said. “We’re having the party at Olivia’s inn. I need to take a quick look at it. Everything’s well in hand, but we can talk tomorrow if you’d like.”

“No problem. You’ll do a great job.”

It struck her as more than an offhand comment—as if what she did was so easy anyone could pull off a one-day boot camp of hard-driving, successful entrepreneurs and their aspiring audience. It was Dylan’s first major event, too. But, sure. Anyone could do it.

Felicity gave herself a mental shake. Gabe didn’t necessarily mean that at all. She knew better than to make assumptions. “Are you staying with Mark?” she asked. “Your dad? With Olivia and Dylan at their house? Did a room open up at Olivia’s inn?”

“None of the above.”

“Your grandfather at Rivendell? I don’t think that’s allowed.”

Gabe walked to the back of the car, opened the hatch, took out a duffel bag and shut the hatch with a soft thud.

Why would he need his duffel bag?

He edged toward her. “Remember when you said you owed me for letting you sleep on my couch?” He hoisted his bag’s strap on one shoulder, the light from the house creating shadows on his angular face, making his expression even more difficult to read. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t not smile, either. “I’ve come to collect.”

“You want to sleep on my couch?”

“It’s the best option,” he said, pragmatic. “Mark says Jess has bad morning sickness. I’m not staying there. Olivia passed out this afternoon. Dylan found out when he got home. She didn’t want to tell him, but he could tell something was up.”

“Husband’s instincts,” Felicity said.

“New dad’s instincts, too.”

She tried to ignore the sensitivity in Gabe’s tone. Much easier if he stayed the overbearing, mercenary jerk she’d convinced herself he was.

He wanted something from her. That was it. Had to be.

“Anyway,” he said, “I’m not staying with them, either. I’d pitch a tent, but tents aren’t my thing these days.”

“What about one of the Sloan brothers? There are five of them. They all live in town.”