I wrote for the next three days. It was like fresh air had been pushed into my lungs. A feeling of exhilaration as the words kept coming, every piece of the plotline jigsaw coming together. Amazing. My heroine was still called Kari, but her story wasn’t about a sexy woodcutter. A recluse who was afraid of love after the burn of humiliation forced him to declare he would never fall again. Her story was a much happier tale. An ex-pilot, jilted by his fiancé but open to trying the first steps of an epic romance with a much-sought happily ever after.

I planned to stop in the next hour. I’d reached the final few chapters and still wasn’t sure how the story was going end. I’d sent the first few chapters of my original manuscript to Gerry before Christmas and had yet to receive any feedback. I hadn’t told him that I’d abandoned the original story, and therefore, I’d decided to give him a few more days to let him enjoy his Christmas break before I contacted him about the new novel.

As I shut the laptop down and leant over the desk to close the curtains, I noticed the light from the barns. I grabbed my coat, hat and scarf, and made my way to Drew.

He was sprawled out across the floor in Karensa’s reception. Piles of papers surrounded him and various highlighters had been discarded except for the one hanging out his mouth. A shredder was behind him and every so often he would pick something out, read over it and put it in the machine to obliterate it. Three empty bottles of beer were sitting on the coffee table next to his laptop, which was open but in darkness.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked as he took the highlighter from his mouth.

‘Getting started.’ He sent another piece of paper through the shredder. ‘Some post arrived for you this morning. I was going to drop it off later but got side-tracked.’ I looked at the envelope on the floor, noticing my publisher’s logo. ‘Sit down,’ he said pointing to the laptop. ‘Take a look at what I’ve been doing.’

The laptop illuminated as I wiggled my finger across the touchpad, and I soon discovered that Drew had been working on Karensa’s website. Underneath the about us tab was a vacancy page where he’d linked to an advert for a new wedding planner.

‘This is amazing.’

‘Isn’t it? Fuck, Cal. I feel ready. We’re coming up to a new year and there’s something about having a fresh start. Starting again. What better time to do it,’ he said.

‘I think it’s a great idea. You still have time to get bookings for the wedding season,’ I said, excited by his enthusiasm, thrilled for his fresh injection of optimism.

‘I only put the ad on a few hours ago and already I’ve had a few emails from people expressing an interest.’

‘That’s fantastic! What are the next steps?’

‘I’ve asked for CVs and I’m going to set up a few phone interviews to get a better feel for them before I invite them to visit. It could be a long process, but I want to get it right. They’ll be making a huge commitment to the place. Living and working here,’ he said, striking a neon yellow line through another piece of paper. This was definitely going to be a long process. Anyone applying would need to be entirely on board with leaving a life behind to live here at Karensa.

‘Can I help you? I’m pretty good at reading people. I could be your…third eye.’

Drew smiled. ‘I’d love that.’

‘Can I do something now? Shred? Highlight? Put something into piles?’

‘Unfortunately, this is all me. Old papers that need filing or getting rid of. I need to sort the office out. I’ve been doing everything at the cottage, but that won’t work once things get up and running again.’ He looked down at the floor and cleared his throat. ‘I’m considering moving back to the flat.’

‘Really?’ I said, trying not to sound shocked.

‘The cottage could be the accommodation for the new wedding planner. That would leave two cottages I could still offer as self-catering holidays.’

‘Yeah. That’s a good plan,’ I replied, still unsure how I felt about him moving back into the space he shared with Meghan. He nodded like he was trying to convince himself.

‘It makes sense.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Great.’

‘Yep.’

‘How do you…feel…about that?’ he asked.

‘Fine,’ I replied. ‘I just didn’t think you’d ever want to go back there.’

‘I’m thinking about what’s best for the business,’ he replied, fiddling with a pen.

The phone rang, making us both jump. In all the times I’d been up here I’d never once heard it ring. The barn was always deadly silent. Drew had taken it from reception and placed it beside him for easy access. He blew out a breath, chuckling as he picked it up.

‘Drew speaking. Hello. Yes. Thanks for calling. Absolutely, I’d love to hear more about you. Wow. Great. And you’ve looked at the website? Fantastic.’ Drew picked up his mobile, shaking it and smiling as it started to vibrate. I reached over, took it from him and spent the next hour talking to a lovely lady about the island. She had her own wedding planning business and was based in Benidorm. I laughed when she said she wanted a change, the weather being a huge one. I wondered if she was ready to swap bikinis for bed socks.

After Drew finished his call, he appeared to be overwhelmed with the interest. His phone continued to ring and the website had generated almost thirty emails. He was animated when talking about the guy he’d spent the most time on the phone with. He was a wedding planner for a famous hotel in London, but admitted that now he was getting older he was looking for a change, something less fast-paced and demanding. His partner, who was an architect, was also looking for a quieter life, admitting that the ability to work from home, surrounded by the Cornish landscape, was a big pull for him too.

‘I’m going to FaceTime him in a couple of days once he’s had time to look over everything, and then I think I’ll invite him to see the island,’ Drew said, elated that this was coming together so quickly. ‘He asked me about the self-catering side of the business and told me about the trend for glamping. They love it, apparently. They’ve recently stayed in a yurt. It’s like a luxury tent. It’s fairly inexpensive to set up and would be another source of income. He had some great ideas, Cal.’

‘I love that idea,’ I replied. ‘Yurts sound fabulous.’

‘I can’t see you as the camping type,’ he replied, lifting his eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure Louis Vuitton does tents.’

‘Ahem. Luxury camping.’ He pulled me down to him and kissed me firmly—the kind of kiss that soon turns into something more. ‘I could totally get on board with that.’

‘Can I stay with you tonight?’ He asked, trailing kisses down my neck and boom. All sense had gone and my brain was now firmly locked to my lady bits.

‘Yes.’

‘I want to fuck you,’ he whispered. ‘Make you feel good.’

‘You already do.’

‘Better,’ he replied, his hand sliding under my sweater and gliding over the bump of my breast. ‘Make you feel better.’

We didn’t make it back to the cottage. Drew made love to me on the floor surrounded by papers and highlighter pens as the phone rang off the hook.