Just Rose

Chapter 4

Rose glanced away awkwardly, assuming she was smiling to someone behind Rose, but a quick look showed no one had come in behind her and she was the only one standing there. Rose looked back again, catching the girl’s eye and gained another bright smile. This time Rose smiled back and returned her gaze to the counter as her hot chocolate and strawberry tart was placed on the tray in front of her. Rose took the little round wooden tray with its paper lace doily and moved off, looking to choose a seat. The girl beckoned to her with a waving hand, catching her eye and tapped the table, showing she was offering her a seat. Rose hesitated, then followed the gesture and approached shyly

‘Hi.’ She got close and slid her tray on the table opposite the dark-haired stranger.

‘Hi, there.’ The girl smiled the most dazzling smile Rose had ever seen, all perfect straight white teeth and pretty, pouted lips, although there was something vaguely familiar about it. She had long black hair, the colour of raven feathers, pale flawless skin with peachy blushed cheeks and dazzling green eyes that sparkled out at you mischievously. She was dressed casually, and it made her appear very young. She was young, maybe in her early twenties or late teens and stunningly beautiful in a casual, na��ve, sort of way.

She extended her hand announcing her name was Abby, Abigail but everyone called her Abby. That she was killing time and could do with the company.

‘I’m Rose Turner, I just moved into the little cottage at the main road as you enter the village.’ She smiled back at the pretty face and saw her nod, hinting she knew exactly which cottage.

‘It’s really nice to see a new young face, especially a girl. We don’t get many new comers.’ Abby beamed her way, lifting her mug and sipping down some coffee; Rose felt an instant ease with this girl, a genuine friendliness.

Conversation soon began to flow, and Abby told Rose she was studying art history, held up textbooks from the seat beside her as if to prove her story was legit. There was a book face down on the table in front of her, and a plate with a half-eaten chocolate doughnut and now empty coffee mug. She was waiting for her brother, collecting her after four and loved to spend her free time in Bella’s bakery. Rose absolutely loved this girls down to earth, straight shooting attitude and genuine openness, she had always found the people in this village to be like this.

Rose was thrilled to hear Bella was still around and still owned this place. She learned that Abby was nineteen and incredibly easy to talk to, sweet and genuine. That despite looking very young, she was very mature and well spoken, her accent although typical for around here, had a slight upper-class clearness to it, much like the male strangers this morning.

The girls found conversation flowed effortlessly and had an immediate connection, both were artists and loved to paint! Both obsessed with the Sunflower painting by Van Gogh and both didn’t like abstract art in the slightest. Abby ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over Roses dress and almost died of envy when she told her that her car was pink too.

‘Rob told me he’d never let me have a pink car.’ She laughed ‘He said it would embarrass his manly self to take it for maintenance. Of course, because I would be completely incapable of doing such things; being a woman!’ She joked with a slow shake of her head, and a sigh. An obvious look of sibling love in her eyes when she said his name.

‘So, Rob is your brother?’ Rose enquired, trying to imagine her own older brothers being that way so many years before. It had been a long time since her two brothers and she shared the same time zone, let alone home.

Why did that name ring a bell? Rob?

‘Yes. Older, pain in the ass brother, who sometimes thinks he’s my dad!’ She smiled, moving her book aside and leaning her elbows on the table. ‘I mean my dad’s still around, but Rob takes care of all of us. My mum passed away when I was fourteen and he just sort of took over. Dad was a mess and well, he’s in his seventies now, so it made sense.’ She looked far away for a moment, then returned to reality, returned from a moment of sadness that Rose knew only too well; missing a loved one was something you never got over. ‘Dad married a younger woman you see.’ She winked cheekily. ‘Rob was born when dad was already in his late forties, and well, I came in his late fifties.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess they wanted more kids in between but it never happened. So just the two of us, in that big house, and then dad of course. The rest of the family lives further away.’

‘It’s nice though, that he’s so protective and you’re obviously close, both my brothers live abroad. One in the RAF, he’s currently in America and the other emigrated to Australia to become a marine biologist. My parents live in Edinburgh, so I’m here all on my lonesome.’ Rose couldn’t help but notice the effortless way the two women had just slipped into sharing life stories. It really felt as if she had always known Abby.

‘I couldn’t imagine not having family around me all the time. Don’t you get lonely or scared?’ Abby scrutinised Roses face seriously. Trying to figure out the girl.

‘I’m used to it; I lived in London for six years to further my career and I didn’t really make many friends. The life was too fast paced, and everyone just wanted to succeed or party. I missed normal slow living and genuine people.’ Rose took a mouthful of her drink and watched Abby toy with her empty mug.

‘You sound like Rob. He lived in Glasgow for a couple years when he went to Uni to study business, he said he couldn’t wait to come home and just get back to home life, the town and the Manor.’

It suddenly hit Rose sitting there, that one tiny word within a sentence. Manor! This was Abigail Munro! She was the Laird’s sister!

Running through the scene earlier in her head and piecing the fragments together in a split second, she felt her stomach lurching as it clicked into place. That familiar smile. That black hair, and although the eyes were not grey, she had his eyes. That same cheeky look when he smiled. The hint of dimples when she smiled. Just like his. That flawless skin and attractive bone structure. The easy confidence and the upper-class dialect which was not common around here.

Surely, he couldn’t be? Could he?

He’d been leaving the Munro estate and he did say ‘Most people know I have a bad view of the road.’ Or something along those lines. Rose felt the colour drain from her face as it sunk in that her first encounter of the day with the asshole, had not been just any asshole, but this lovely girl’s brother and the Laird of her new home town. The Laird, who had invited her to his ball!!

‘Are you okay?’ The look of concern on Abby’s face only struck it home, so alarmingly like his.

Damn!

Even the same question as he had yanked open her car door. They were so alike it was traumatising; Rose feigned a smile and then let her head drop into her palms groaning aloud. She felt like a moron, prize ‘A’ i***t, and this sudden dawning of events had her reeling with regret. She felt Abby’s hand touch her arm, concerned her new friend was having some sort of mental breakdown.

‘I met him!’ She mumbled, covering her face and trying to rub away the realisation. The urge to pour her own hot chocolate over her head swiftly coming over her.

‘Rob?’ She could almost hear the surprise in Abby’s tone.

‘Yes! He almost killed me with his car this morning and then…’

‘Penelope?!?!?!’ The sound of his deep familiar voice moved her to jump up, right off the table. Snapping her head up to meet his tall figure coming towards her from the open door. Shocked into momentary silence by the sight of him towering at the side of the table right next to her, larger than life, so close she caught her breath. His sudden presence making her feel hot and bothered, flustered with no real reason, except that maybe he was a little bit hot in a sculpted white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and some super snug on the ass jeans. Both Abby and his eyes glued to her face with a look of concern, strikingly similar! Yet not! One was extremely feminine and one extremely masculine, in the disturbingly male way that made women like Rose lose all compos mentis.

‘Are you okay?’ Both of them, almost in unison.

Oh god, it was undeniable that they were related.

She slid her chair out quickly, mumbling some incoherent reason for getting going and avoiding looking him in the face as she tried to slide by. Caught between embarrassment, awkwardness, and just sheer cringe factor. Now she could fully see him without the red veil of rage she had to admit, he was romance hero worthy.

He caught her by the waist as she made for a lame exit attempt, stopping her and towering over her fragile frame like some kind of Neanderthal. No hesitation in laying his hands on her tiny figure, which only enraged her almost compulsively. His hot male hands encircling her body, burning through the thin fabric of her dress with an almost searing heat, causing immediate anger and uneasiness at his touch. Unsure at why she was reacting this way, and it was only bringing the fury back to the forefront. She shoved him off defiantly, hands meeting with hard chest beneath his thin shirt.

‘I’m absolutely fine! ... No thanks to you and your dangerous driving. Where did you get your license? ... A lucky bag!!’ She surprised herself with her venomous reaction, as she saw the storm move into his eyes again. Clearing away the concern to be replaced with a matched annoyance, fury to challenge her own. Burning between them like a beast about to erupt; self-combusting fire.

‘So I see. Not lying there dying or passing out from a concussion, as I feared; but alive and spitting just like earlier. And I could ask you the same thing, Penelope. I’m sure driving eighty on the road to town was highly responsible.’ His angry glare sent prickles up her spine, that smug face only inches from hers. Her breathing hitched.

‘Just trying to get away from you. In case once again your i***t driving caused me to crash!’ She thrust her hands on her hips in a show of bravado and pulled her small height up to meet him head on.

‘Getting away from me is becoming a habit today!’ Rob crossed his arms across that massive expanse of male muscle and leaned back on his heel, somehow it only angered her more.

‘Yup. Absolutely!’ She spat.

‘Great! Don’t let me stop you.’ He stepped back, giving her some much-needed breathing space. Sparks sizzling in the air between them with no real sense at all to the anger fueling the scene. No real argument in the petty comments, just rage, heat and sparks.

She had no idea why this guy made her so angry. Every nerve in her body reacting like hot piercing needles and the urge to smash a mug on his head. His overly good-looking face absolutely screamed for her to throw her drink in it; it seemed they both evoked that reaction in each other. He moved out of the way, gesturing her exit dramatically, almost bowing as he nodded and murmured some incoherent insult. To which she spat one back before marching off with a bag in hand, twisting the handle like it was his neck.