Just Say Yes by Phillipa Ashley Page A

his back. Someone had to save him from himself.
    Sara pressed on. “Dark as in black or as in brown? I need detail.”
    He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “OK. Let me see. Her hair was black like the paint job on the Wilsons’ Sunseeker, maybe with some kind of purply thing happening like the sails on the Mirage dinghy Dave Hollins just bought off Esme Trerice. And her skin was a sort of creamy-white—you know, I think it was exactly the color of the leather upholstery in that French couple’s Beneteau thirty-six-footer and…”
    Sara’s mouth gaped open.
    “Well, you did ask me.”
    “Not to make fun of me!”
    He lifted her chin and planted a quiet kiss on her mouth. “Would I? Sara, I really have no idea what she looked like and, frankly, I don’t give a toss. Now, I have to get back. I need to fix the dishwasher in Porthcurno Cottage before the guests arrive, and maybe Fiona will be at Creekside to let me fix her heating.”
    She nodded as he picked up his keys from the in-tray. “So, shall I see you later? There’s a gig at the Smugglers tonight…”
    He smiled and hesitated just long enough to sow a seed of doubt in her mind. “Why not? Pick you up around seven?”
    “Cool.”
    He was halfway out of the door when he turned back. “Sara?”
    “Yes?”
    “That mad girl at Fiona Thingy’s place?”
    Her eyes lit up and for a moment he had second thoughts about teasing her. “Yes?” she said eagerly.
    “She had jam round her mouth.”
    Leaving a kiss on her indignant face, Josh strode out of the office, across the slipway to his pickup. He wasted no time in driving back to Tresco Farm. The high season was nearly here and as usual, he had a list of jobs as long as his arm to get on with. Ten minutes later, he was pulling up in the courtyard. A joyful bark from inside told him that Tally, at least, was pleased to see him.
    “Don’t have to ask how you are, do I, girl?”
    In response, Tally leapt to her feet and padded over, tail thumping against the stove in excitement. Crouching down, Josh ruffled her ears and tickled her belly as she rolled onto her back in pleasure.
    “Sorry, girl, I don’t have time for a walk,” he said as the dog jumped up and raced for the back door. “Later.”
    Outside, the rain was easing. Josh could see the row of cottages opposite and, beyond that, he could almost make out the sea now, gray against a gray sky. The cottages never ceased to inspire him with wonder. That they belonged to him at all, he still found hard to believe.
    From his background, with all that he’d got up to in his youth, even in his wildest dreams, he could never have imagined running a business and owning property. If it hadn’t been for Marnie Trewellan, his foster mother, Josh had no idea where he’d be now. Probably the same place his brother Luke was—on the streets. But Luke had had the same chances and Josh had tried hard enough to find him and give him a share of what was rightfully his. What could Josh do if he’d chosen a different path? And now wasn’t the time to be wringing his hands over Luke. He had work to do.
    “See you later,” said Josh, gathering up his tool kit from the kitchen countertop. Tally laid her head on her paws in misery.
    “It won’t work,” he said, seeing her soulful eyes.
    Tally flattened herself onto the quarry tiles and Josh shook his head.
    “Why do you do this to me every time? Come on, then—but don’t leave hairs on the bed.”
    At that, the dog leapt to her feet, paws slithering on the quarry tiles, and stood panting by the stable door that led out onto the yard. Outside, a peep of blue sky was now peering down between ragged clouds. Josh set off through the yard. Once pigs and hens had been kept here, but now it was graveled and provided extra parking for the guests of the cottages. Tally sniffed around the walls. Josh turned to look at the house, all dour gray stone, with roses and some purple plant running wild around the doors and