The Summer House of Happiness: A delightfully feel-good romantic comedy perfect for holiday!. Daisy James

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…’

      ‘It’s okay,’ she laughed. ‘So when do you think you’ll have your project finished?’

      ‘Depends how much spare time I get. I only work on her during my lunch hour, or if I come in early in the morning. Your dad’s been great – he’s even opened up the garage on the occasional Sunday so I can get stuck in. I need to have everything done by the end of October, though, because I promised my aunt I’d take her to my cousin’s wedding in it. Can’t let her down, can I?’

      Max extracted a dirty cloth from his pocket and polished away an invisible speck of dust from the headlamp, pride in his achievement glowing on his handsome face. Gabbie recognised that expression as one she wore more frequently than she would care to admit; the fervent desire to spend every spare second with the non-human objects of her affection.

      Max had taken several steps towards her, causing her heart to perform a flip-flop when she felt the whisper of his breath on her cheek. He might dismiss the perfume business, but he clearly enjoyed the benefits of its products. She inhaled slowly so as not to alert him to her scrutiny of his choice of cologne – a habit Jasmine constantly chastised her about.

      Mmm, frangipani with monoi and a nip of galbanum. Delicious. She realised too late that she had closed her eyes briefly, her nostrils lifted in the air in an almost snooty fashion as she savoured the intoxicating aroma. She quickly averted her gaze and changed the subject to more mundane matters.

      ‘Dad says the garage has got plenty of work on. Is that true?’

      ‘Yes, in fact we’re too busy – winter services, MOTs, repairs after the long drives over summer. We’ve had to start turning customers away, which isn’t something Jeff likes to do.’

      Gabbie wondered if her father had confided in Max about the problems he had mentioned the previous day but brushed off as issues of ‘turnover and whatnot’ when she had queried them. She didn’t want to breach any confidences in relation to the business so she didn’t ask the question that had formed on her lips – if they had so such work on, and an extra pair of hands since Max had arrived, why were there concerns? It didn’t make any sense.

      She made a mental note to ask her father about it, and if he refused to discuss it with her, as he had yesterday, she would take a look at the accounts and work it out for herself. She had often helped her mother with the filing and entering the invoices and receipts in the old-fashioned ledgers, so she knew what to look out for. In fact, there was no time like the present.

      ‘Well, I can’t stand here chatting all day,’ announced Max, striding over to a VW Beetle that looked like it had just driven off the set of a Barbie film, its sugar-pink paintwork dotted with huge white daisies.

      As Max leaned over the engine, Gabbie found her eyes drawn to the taut curve of his buttocks. However, she also recognised that her attraction to Max was caused by more than simple physical desire. For one thing, they had a great deal in common; she sensed, too, that beneath the brooding exterior something much more vulnerable lurked and she was keen to find out what.

      As she made her way towards the office, another ripple of interest swept through her, and she was flustered by the strength of her reaction to someone she barely knew. Jasmine was right. It really was time she got back on the dating horse.

Chapter Five

      Gabbie wove her way through the labyrinth of cardboard boxes and toppling stacks of old car magazines to the office in the far corner of the garage. She reached for the grubby handle and paused. Anxiety gnawed at her abdomen as she wondered what she might discover behind that door.

      Well, she wasn’t going to find out by just standing there, was she?

      She inhaled a deep breath and went in. It was even worse than she had imagined. The gargantuan mahogany desk that had been in the Andrews family for years was almost unidentifiable – strewn with car manuals, crumpled correspondence, discarded envelopes, pots of pens, used coffee cups. Even the drawers had been wrenched open so that more paperwork could be balanced on top.

      The shelves behind the desk were crammed with box files, all higgledy-piggledy and no longer in alphabetical order, and the gun-metal-grey filing cabinet was covered in blisters of rust and, incongruously, missing a drawer. But the thing Gabbie found most disconcerting was the odour of dirty dishcloths and mould. It had always been a standing joke that Andrews Autos was the only garage in the whole of Devon, and perhaps even England, that emitted a faint smell of roses, or lavender, or jasmine, depending on her mother’s mood that week. A mantle of sadness draped its weight over Gabbie’s shoulders at discovering yet another slip in standards since her mother had passed away and she had left Oakley to pursue her dreams in France.

      She slumped down into the burgundy captain’s chair and sighed. Why did things have to change? Why couldn’t the garage at least have retained the familiarity she was expecting? After all, nothing had changed for the first twenty-one years she had been there – apart from the Pirelli calendar on the wall. As she ran her eyes over the newspapers scattered over the floor and the overflowing wastepaper basket, she felt as though she wasn’t in Andrews Autos at all, but some other garage belonging to a proprietor who didn’t care about his business, and that thought jerked her out of her melancholy and into action.

      She made a start on the in-tray, separating the coffee-stained invoices into those that had been paid and those that required attention before moving on to the filing. By the time she stopped for a break it was after six o’clock and her stomach growled with objection at the lack of attention, but she was on a roll and had no intention of stopping for such mundane necessities. She could now see the leather inlay on the top of the desk and had located the missing drawer from the filing cabinet in the gents’ toilet of all places!

      ‘Okay, I’m… Oh, my God! What’s going on?’ said Max, appearing at the door. ‘I can hardly recognise the place. I wondered why I hadn’t seen you around this afternoon. Wow, you’ve certainly been busy.’

      ‘Mum always kept this office so shipshape that it ran like one of your shiny engines. Orderliness is the engine oil of an efficient business, she used to say. Customers would tease her, saying they felt like they should put their cars through a carwash before bringing them for their annual service at Andrews Autos. She secretly loved the thought of that.’

      Gabbie flashed a glance through the office window into the workshop, but her view was blocked by the mountain of cardboard. She knew exactly what her next task was going to be.

      Max followed her line of sight. ‘The place was like this when I joined at the beginning of summer. I thought this was what it was always like so I just accepted it as normal. There was enough to do sorting out the vehicles without donning an apron and washing down the surfaces. Anyway, it didn’t take me long to discover where everything was and the system sort of works. If I can’t find something, Wil usually knows where to look. Right, I just popped in to tell you I’m finished for the day and if you fancy joining Wil and I for a pint in The Pear Tree later, you’d be very welcome.’

      ‘Oh, thanks, but I think I’ll finish up here. I could be a while.’ She laughed.

      ‘No problem. Another time. See you tomorrow.’

      Gabbie watched Max snatch up his car keys and stride out of the garage without looking back. She enjoyed the view, the swing of his hips, the denim jacket slung casually over his shoulder, but she wasn’t sure how she would feel if the tables were turned and he’d been watching her retreating backside.

      Half an hour later, she paused at the office door, finger on the light switch, surveying her handiwork. She was satisfied with the results and made a decision. She collected the three box files that held that year’s business accounts, locked the door and pocketed the key, determined to have a word with her father about letting the paperwork slide.

      Unfortunately, she had forgotten he played archery on a Tuesday evening and the house felt strangely quiet, the joists overhead