“Well, there it is.” He gestured ahead, where another narrower lane was buried beneath overgrown trees and dead leaves. A white stone cottage was the main attraction, situated on a slant where the road inclined into grassy fields and then more forest.
Harper straightened in her seat with newfound hope. It didn’t look half-bad, with bay windows and red ivy decorating the outer walls. Smoke curled from the chimney and a golden plaque above the door labelled itFlockhart’s, with a chalkboard to its right reading in white calligraphy:where everyone is welcome.A Pride flag rippling in the breeze splashed colour onto the scene, making her feel even more at home. She was reminded of the time she’d taken a spa break with Kenzie.How the receptionist had looked at them both and asked if they wanted separate beds. The subtle, hostile glance when they’d answered no and reached for one another’s hand. She didn’t have to worry about that now, but it still warmed her to see that some places were meant for her.
“Oh, wow. This place is lovely.”
“It’ll be even nicer soon. Andy’s putting a lot of work into it. They have to, to keep it an option when people are looking for a place to stay around here.”
He parked up at the top of the road and snapped Bernard’s leash to his collar. “Shall we?”
“You’re coming in with me?” she blurted, caught off guard. Before, he’d seemed fairly eager to get rid of her.
“Aye. I’ll help you with that naughty suitcase of yours.” He smirked, and Harper swallowed hard. Of course he hadn’t forgotten yet.
He tittered as he got out of the car, whistling for Bernard to follow. As he circled to the back of the pick-up truck to fetch her suitcase, Harper stepped out to drink in the brisk air. Although Belbarrow was further north than Manchester, the season’s cold weather hadn’t completely hit yet, and she was comfortable in her knitted layers and scarf.
“I can get it—”
“Aye, I know. You’re very capable of managing by yourself,” he grumbled, keeping the handle of the suitcase out of her reach. “You are allowed to accept help, y’know.”
She might have been allowed, but she certainly wasn’t used to it. Her steps faltered as the realisation hit her. She hated being helped. She hated having to ask for it. She hated it when people assumed she needed it.All she wanted was to be independent. Strong. More than that, she wanted other people to view her that way.
I need someone I don’t have to worry about all the time.
The words sliced through her as harshly as the first time she’d heard them. She grabbed the handle determinedly, her breath catching in her throat when the cool side of her hand brushed against his warm one. He narrowed his eyes. Snatched it away. “Oi. Let me be a gentleman!”
“Let me be a strong independent woman!” she argued, yanking the suitcase back once more.
She strutted through the door to the B&B before he could stop her—
Or, at least, she tried to. She only succeeded in walking straight into the solid wood, her shoulder smarting against it.
She huffed. “It’s not open!”
Fraser nudged her out of the way to knock on the door.
“Hang on just a sec!” a rough voice called from inside, and the sound of feet trampling downstairs followed.
Locks twisted on the other side of the door, and finally, it opened. At the entrance stood who Harper assumed was Andy, the owner. Sporting a mussed, stylish raven mullet and burgundy dungarees over a pink knitted jumper, Andy’s hazel eyes were doe-like behind round-framed glasses, their friendly smile punctuated by a lip ring. They couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, though Harper supposed that made sense if the business was passed down through the generations. Still, Harper envied them. She wasn’t far from that age herself,and she was nowhere near holding a steady job, never mind having her own business.
“Hiya, Fraser! What’s up?” Andy slipped their hand into their pocket, blowing a feathery strand of hair from their brow.
Fraser looked just as happy to see them, that dimple returning to the corner of his mouth. “We thought you weren’t in for a minute.” He poked his head to look behind Andy, puzzled. “How come you’re all locked up?”
“I thought I’d close early and get started on some renovations before the tourists start flocking in through December. I can’t afford another quiet winter, so all the old-fashioned crap needs to go. Don’t tell my mum I said that.” Their shoulders heaved as they rubbed their brow glumly. “It’s chaos, Fraser. I’m going to need your help. How free is your schedule this month?”
Harper’s stomach sank. They were closed. As she peered at Fraser for guidance, much to her own chagrin, Andy finally seemed to notice her. “Oh, sorry. Who’s your friend? More importantly, is she good at painting?”
“This is Harper…” He winced, scratching the back of his neck. “She’s in a bit of a pickle, Andy. Is there any way you can offer her a room, even with the renos?”
Andy fidgeted with the ties of their dungarees, propping one foot on top of the other as they leaned against the door. “Oh, dear. What’s happened?”
“Airbnb mishap,” Harper explained, unable to hide her deflation.
“Ick.” Andy wrinkled their nose in distaste. “Every Airbnb is a mishap.”
“That’s what I said,” agreed Fraser.
“How long are you staying?” Andy asked her.
