‘Can you stay for supper tonight?’ Millie tried to keep it light, not wanting to seem desperate. She’d kept the hurt that Tessa had inflicted to herself all day. Had been too busy to dwell on it, but now all the work was finished, she felt the tension in her shoulders soften and, with it, a need for human comfort. The tears threatened a return.
‘I think that’s an offer I can’t resist.’ Jed grinned boyishly. ‘And of course I’m –’
‘Starving. Of course you are!’ She laughed. ‘Taken as a given. Reaching up, she tweaked a long lock of hair that flopped over his tanned face. ‘You have the most fetching streak of white paint.’
Jed pulled a face. ‘Do I?’
‘And another smudge of it on your nose.’ Millie reached up to kiss it.
‘I might need to borrow your shower.’
‘I think that can be arranged.’
He followed her up to the flat, with Trevor weaving between their legs and getting in the way.
Millie unlocked the door and, feeling self-conscious, led him into the sitting room. It must be very different to the places he was used to. She needn’t have worried. Jed went straight to the window and stood, hands on hips, drinking in the view.
‘What a fantastic place to live!’ He turned to her, eyes alight. ‘You look right out over the sea. You must never tire of it.’
Millie joined him. It was true. She nodded. ‘The view’s never the same two days running. But I love it best in the winter when it’s stormy.’
Jed put his arm loosely around her shoulders. ‘I can imagine. Do the storms ever reach you up here?’
‘They can do. I’ve had one or two windows smashed by pebbles thrown up by the sea. It’s not much of a sacrifice to live here, though.’
‘I can see why you love it so.’ Jed turned her to him and pulled her closer. His mouth found hers and his hand cupped her breast.
She pushed him away. Reluctantly. Much as she wanted this man, she needed a shower first. ‘I’ll sort you out some towels.’
Jed nodded but the desire in his eyes was unmistakable. ‘And then food. I’ve an idea I’ll need all my stamina for later.’
Millie went first, leaving Jed engrossed in the news on TV. While he showered, she frowned over the meagre contents of her kitchen cupboards and wondered what to cook.
When Jed emerged, with wet hair and smelling of her almond-blossom shower gel, she nearly jumped on him there and then. Practicalities won by a nose.
‘Just salad and some new potatoes, I’m afraid,’ she explained, as they sat at her tiny table in the kitchen. ‘But I’ve made some mango chicken to go with it.’ She tried to concentrate on the food and failed. Jed looked gorgeous with his hair damp and curling around his collar. The thought of all that clean, tanned skin under his shirt and chinos was making her weak with desire.
‘Sounds great. And we’ve cake for pudding!’ Jed was obviously only thinking of one type of hunger.
‘Oh yes, your sponge cake. Hope it’s okay. I rather threw them together late last night.’
‘It’ll be perfect,’ Jed declared confidently. ‘Everything you touch is perfect.’
Millie laughed, embarrassed. ‘Not sure about that.’
He reached over and took her hand. ‘It’s true,’ he said, simply, gazing into her eyes.
They knew what was coming. The promise of it vibrated in the air. Thrummed between them. And they both knew that the longer they deferred it, the sweeter it would taste.
‘I’ll open some wine, shall I?’ he added.
Millie couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Was hollowed out with desire for the man. She managed a nod.
He rooted around in the fridge and found the half-full bottle of white she’d begun last night. He filled their glasses. ‘You know, I really admire how you’re right in the middle of your community.’
‘Am I?’
He sat down and picked up his fork. ‘Yes, of course you are. Look at this weekend. None of it would have been possible without your friends rallying around.’ He began to eat. ‘It’s something I really envy. I’ve never had that. Experienced that. I’ve been thinking, by the way,’ he leaned forward, enthusiasm warming his dark eyes. ‘What you need is a marketing strategy.’
‘Do I?’ Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t this. She sipped some wine.
‘You don’t actually need to change much. Actually nothing. Just emphasise what you already do, what you’re known for. Have you got a mission statement?’
Millie nearly choked on her wine. ‘A what?’
‘Something that sums up what you’re all about.’
She shook her head.
‘Can you tell me what you’re all about? In as brief a sentence as possible?’
Millie shrugged. She wanted to concentrate on another kind of strategy, the one to get Jed into her bed as quickly as possible. But he was waiting for an answer. Taking this seriously. He seemed as involved in this as he had been with Arthur and Daisy. She thought for a moment. ‘Well, I’m committed to organic, locally sourced supplies and all my food is home-cooked.’
‘Yeah, that’s a start. It’s definitely what you’re all about, isn’t it?’ Jed speared a piece of chicken. ‘Maybe we need to work on the wording a little. God, this is gorgeous, Millie.’
‘Thank you. So, what do I need one of these mission statements for?’
‘Well, you don’t really,’ Jed admitted. ‘It’s a bit of a gimmick, but it helps to shove what you’re all about under people’s noses. The tourists down from the city will really go for it. You could get Ken to paint it on the wall. And you need a slogan. To go on your advertising.’ He ate silently for a minute. ‘What about, “Come to Millie’s and meet your next best friend!”’
Millie began to see what he was getting at. She nodded enthusiastically. ‘I love that! And I was thinking of expanding the menu –’
‘No,’ Jed’s voice was firm. ‘Stick to what you’re good at, what you’re known for. Have a limited menu chalked up on a blackboard and when it’s gone, it’s gone. Gives the impression that everything is freshly cooked.’
‘Everything is!’
Jed raised his glass to her. ‘Exactly! Promotes the idea that you have to get it while it’s hot and fresh – that sort of thing. Maybe add a fish special?’
Millie pushed a cherry tomato around her plate. ‘I’ve thought about that. I don’t want to set myself up in competition with the Sea Food Shack and The Plaice Place. It’s how Berecombe works,’ she explained. ‘We all stick to what we’re good at – and known for – and don’t step on anyone else’s toes.’
Jed nodded. ‘Okay. Fair point. What about this utterly delicious mango chicken? Has this ever made it onto the menu?’
Millie shook her head and said with a rueful grin, ‘Never thought the likes of Biddy and Arthur would go for it.’
‘You might be right there.’ Jed laughed. ‘One alarmingly exotic special a day won’t give folk a cardiac, though. They’ll still have their scones and tea. Where do you get your recipes from, anyway?’
‘Mum’s notebook. She collected recipes as well. I’ve still got them in a big folder. Some go back years.’
He sat back. ‘And there’s your first Millie Vanilla’s Cook Book. It’ll be a best-seller,’ he added triumphantly.
‘Do you ever stop?’ Millie laughed.
‘Nope.’ He gave her a flirty look from underneath dark lashes. ‘Aw, Millie, it’s just that I think the café is a really special place, you know I do. I just want it to be the success it deserves.’
Trevor nosed at his knee in the hope of a tid-bit. ‘Of course, the main advantage you have is that you’re completely dog-friendly. You make your own dog treats as well, don’t you? We’ll have to add that to the menu.’
‘Or have a separate special dog’s menu!’ Millie cried. ‘That would be amazing.’
‘Brilliant! And have you thought about doing any merchandise? Get your slogan on aprons, oven gloves, those hessian bags for life you can get. I’ve seen people giving the aprons you wear admiring looks. Bet they’d sell all day long. Where do you source them?’
Millie was loving his enthusiasm. ‘Biddy makes them for me. I get the material from Dorchester market.’
‘Well, tell her they’re great. So retro. Do you think she’d like to go into production?’
Millie gave him a big-eyed look. ‘After what she revealed yesterday, I think she’s probably capable of anything.’
Jed laughed. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned, making the chair tilt back on two legs. ‘I’ve really enjoyed this weekend.’ He rolled his neck to ease out the kinks.
‘What, painting out a crappy old café?’
‘Millie, really, don’t you mean, Millie Vanilla’s, where the food is home-cooked and you can meet your next best friend?’ He grinned widely. ‘Yes! I’ve loved it. I enjoy doing things with you. You must have realised that by now. Working alongside you.’ His chair thumped back onto the floor as he leaned forward. He reached for her hand again. ‘And now, drink your wine, Emilia,’ Jed said, with an unmistakable glint in his eye. ‘I really think it’s time I took you to bed. I intend on doing a whole load of far more enjoyable things with you. And I think it’s going to take quite some time.’
Flustered, Millie replied, ‘We haven’t had the cake yet.’
‘You know what? I think I’d rather have you for pudding.’