Free The Boy is Back in Town by Nina Harrington

you might even enjoy it!’
    Ethan ducked as a half-eaten muffin came flying towards his head. Only the plan backfired as he caught the cake one-handed, stood back up and took a huge bite. ‘Mmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. Any more for the workers?’ And then he dived out of the door before Mari could find something harder with more bounce potential.
    Leaving the two girls looking at one another in silence.
    ‘What?’ Rosa asked in all innocence. ‘You want to work behind the bar at the yacht club all day? No, I didn’t think so.’
    She glanced at her watch. ‘Better get some rest, because it sounds like you’re going to need it, Mari. Put the cake knife down, Mari. I am wounded, remember? Ouch!’

CHAPTER FIVE
    T HE snow had stopped during the night, leaving a crystal-clear blue sky morning.
    Mari stared out of the window of Ethan’s four-wheel drive, peering through the thick pine trees and mixed forest to the inlet before they reached the shore.
    The branches of the low fir trees had been painted silver and white by the heavy frost and looked like something from a Christmas card. She should have brought a camera and made some greeting cards for Rosa, like she used to when she was younger. Rosa would love that.
    Great. More guilt. Just what she needed.
    ‘You’ve gone quiet on me again. Is this so terrible? It’s a nice day. The sun’s shining. The snow has stopped. Want to give me a hand unloading the car?’
    She looked at him, shook her head. ‘You really hate to take no for an answer, don’tyou? And using my own sister to help you decorate! Shame on you.’
    ‘For what?’ Ethan replied, raising both hands away from the steering wheel for a fraction of a second. ‘I was telling you the truth! I need the help. It’s that simple. And who else am I going to ask? Your mum was a goddess in home decoration and you did more than help. I was there, remember? Lugging cans of paint and wallpaper all over the county in your dad’s old van. You can’t fool me, Mari. I saw you in action too many times. Who knows? It could be fun.’
    He glanced over at her just before she turned away to gaze out of the window.
    Or maybe not.
    ‘Did Rosa tell you about the house? We have three bedrooms en suite. Air con. Triple glazing. And the best view this side of the bay with a private jetty.’
    ‘Didn’t there used to be a cottage down that way?’
    Ethan nodded. ‘A derelict fisherman’s shack. The planning authority didn’t want the land used for a hotel on the protected seafront. And it was too far out of town for a restaurant or the like. So when it came on the market, I bought it with permission to rebuild that one house on the shore. Plenty ofother people wanted to develop the site and build a private housing complex and offered a whole load of money for the privilege. But I outbid them. This is where my mother wants to retire to, so this is what she gets. And here we are.’
    Whatever mental picture Mari had created of a house by the shore, she was totally unprepared for the image she found at the front of the house. They had driven through a single break in the tree cover onto a paved driveway, leading to one of the most stunning buildings she had ever seen in her life.
    The house itself was one storey, hugging the shoreline, with an attic floor above, the peak of the tiled roof just low enough so that the pine trees on either side still towered above it.
    But that was not the killer. It was the view.
    The house was not just near the sea. It was on the shore. From the drive, she could see the long glass panels of a conservatory built on stone pillars extended a few feet over the water. To her right, the drive continued down to what looked like a solid wooden boathouse, the roof heavy with snow. On the left a double door garage below a curving extension, which seemed to fit seamlessly into the forest. The cold air was filled with a wonderfulcombination of pine needles, sawdust and a tang from the choppy ocean