Free Carnations in January by Clare Revell

same as before or however you want it. You could have the bedrooms at the back, or one at the front, one at the back and the kitchen at the front and lounge at the back. I just need to know before I start on the plans.”
    “But it won’t be the same. It won’t smell the same or have the same memories.”
    “It’ll be yours.”
    Grace shook her head. “I can’t get a mortgage, and I couldn’t afford one even if I could.”
    “You don’t need one. The insurance covers the rebuild and the contents. New for old. That is the point of insurance.”
    “The policies aren’t in my name. And it will take months to organize that and the rebuild.”
    Elliott rolled his eyes. “You can live here. You don’t pay rent on the flat, and you own the shop so no rent there either. And it won’t take months. I’ll call in a few favors. I can sketch the plans myself and get my architect friend to draw them to scale. From the money being confirmed to you moving in…” He pulled out his phone and brought up the calendar app. “…beginning of May.”
    Her heart well and truly in her boots and her soul downcast, she shrugged. “Why are you bothering?”
    He tucked her fringe behind her ears. “Why not?”
    “Lately I really feel I’m a waste of space.”
    “No, you’re not,” he said firmly, in a tone she wouldn’t argue with. “And you won’t get rid of me that easily. I live next door, remember?”
    “Across the road,” she corrected.
    “Whatever.” He winked. “Now, you’re coming over to my house for dinner tonight and we’re going to plan your new home.”
    She sucked in a deep breath, ready to argue, but one look from those blue eyes of his, took the breath from her.
    “Yes?”
    She agreed.
    “Good. Be there at six. And not a minute later.”
    Bossy… But then she paused as her heart warmed a bit. She couldn’t even remember the last time anyone cared enough to boss her around. And why didn’t she mind that Elliott was? If she didn’t know better, she’d say the walls around her heart were starting to crack. And enough walls had cracked in the last few days to last her for a while.
    And what if he wanted something in return.
    That was one debt she wouldn’t be beholden to accept.

7
    Just before six, Grace locked up the shop and clutched the bunch of yellow carnations in her hand. She headed across the road to Elliott’s house. Her heart broke again at the sight of the street lighting illuminating the pile of rubble where her house once stood. The clearing of the site would happen tomorrow.
    Her headache increased. An aura tinged the edges of her vision again. She really needed something stronger than the pain reliever she’d used but of course, her meds had been destroyed along with the house.
    Joel must have seen her coming because the door opened just as her finger reached for the doorbell. He smiled. “Hi, come in. Elliott’s in the kitchen.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Let me take your coat.”
    She slipped out of it and went to find Elliott.
    He stood next to the stove, tea towel slung carelessly over his shoulder, steam rising from the pans. Whatever he was making smelled delicious.
    He knows his way around a kitchen all right . She leaned against the door, taking in the way he moved and hummed as he stirred one of the pans, tasting what he was making, and then tossing in a little more pepper.
    She shook her head in wonder. “Very domesticated.”
    Elliott turned and grinned at her. His brown hair stood up at all angles and his blue eyes glinted with pleasure. “I can be. Cooking makes a change from bricks and mortar, but it’s just as satisfying.”
    She held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
    “Thank you.” He took them, his fingers brushing against hers. “I’ve never been given flowers before.”
    “Never?”
    He shook his head.
    Right there and then Grace resolved to give him flowers more often.
    He found a vase and put the flowers on the table. “Dinner won’t be