across her bosomy chest. ‘And we don’t do cheap in Rabbits Leap.’
Jody stifled a snort. Rabbits Leap didn’t do cheap? Since when? The town had been living on a shoestring for as long as she could remember. That was until her brother, Tony, and his fiancée, Mel, had breathed life into the old pub and attracted the attention of outsiders. Their success had seen the whole town wanting a bit of the action, and they’d decided the five-hundredth anniversary of the Rabbit Revolt was the perfect opportunity to bring people into the village – in the form of a festival. A way to bring money into businesses while fundraising to revive the community pool.
‘Are you sure we don’t do cheap, Shirley?’ Mrs Hunter’s eyes widened. An innocent look that belied the snide tone of her words. ‘Because those court shoes of yours hardly look like they’ve come from some fancy high-end store. Or maybe they did and I didn’t realise scuffed vinyl was in fashion…’
Mrs Harper’s chest puffed out in outrage. ‘I always thought you were a bit of a hoity-toity co—’
‘Ladies, ladies…’ Jody raised her hands in the hope of bringing the sniping to a halt. ‘Let’s not let something that’s meant to be fun become the opposite. We’re all friends, remember? And if we’re not friends, we’re still neighbours and we still have to—’
‘You two. Get off there. At once.’
The authoritative voice rumbled through the hall’s open doors, stopping Jody’s attempt at peacemaking in its tracks. She knew immediately who the directive was aimed at.
Oh God, what had the boys done now?
Jody scraped the chair back. The ugly screech of metal legs on wood had the unexpected affect of stopping Mrs Harper and Mrs Hunter from staring at each other mutinously, instead making them turn their attention to her.
‘I’ve got to go check on the boys. I’ll be back. Play nice,’ she ordered as she stalked out of the gloomy hall into the bright summer sun and hurried across the road to the park where she’d left the boys to play during the meeting.
‘If you two don’t get off there right now I shall come over and take you down myself.’
Jody broke into a trot. There was no way she was letting anyone touch her boys, whether they were misbehaving or not.
‘What’s going on over there?’ she called out, slowing down as she approached the back of Tyler and Jordan’s accuser – tall, broad shouldered and far too well dressed, in a crisp white polo shirt and khaki-coloured tailored cargo shorts, to be a local.
‘These two are climbing all over that sculpture. What if they damage it? Where are their parents? And shouldn’t they be in school?’
Jody stifled a snort as she looked at the ‘artwork’. The boys were hardly going to damage it considering it was made from stainless steel and built to withstand at least ten times their weight. When the parish council had decided to turn an empty lot into a communal area for people to relax or have picnics, she’d offered to donate an artwork that not only represented Rabbits Leap but also doubled as a piece of playground equipment. Why slide on a slide when you could slip down the back of a big steel rabbit in mid leap?
‘Do you know who they are? Can you get them off?’
The stranger turned to face Jody. His coffee-coloured eyes blazed with intensity, wiping the amused grin off her face. Who was this man, with those eyes that could pin a woman to a wall, lush lips that looked entirely too kissable, and… and why was she thinking about him like this? She didn’t do that. She’d trained herself to see men as women with an extra appendage. They weren’t sexy. She didn’t want to kiss them. And pinning her to the wall was out of the question.
Jody swallowed, hoping the act would return moisture to her parched throat. Return sanity. No such luck.
She forced herself to look away from the man, who was unknowingly questioning her parenting ability, and turned her attention to the boys.
‘Boys! You get your little backsides off there, right this instant.’ She watched the stranger’s reaction out of the corner of her eye as her mum-tone caught Jordan and Tyler’s attention.
‘Do we have to?’ Jordan pouted.
‘The slide’s the best thing about this park.’ Tyler made no effort to get down, and instead clambered up towards the top of the rabbit and sat between its ears.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t make me tell you twice.’
‘Oh, so these are your charges? You’re their nanny?’
Jody mashed her lips together and forced the laugh down. Nanny? Who had nannies in Rabbits Leap? Seriously, what world did this guy come from?
‘I’m their something,’ she replied, trying to keep a straight face.
One thump. Another. Followed by the soft patter of bare feet on lush green grass.
‘Mum.’ Jordan folded his skinny arms across his thin chest in disapproval. ‘You suck. That rabbit’s the only thing to play on.’
‘Yeah, you suck.’ Tyler echoed his older-by-four-minutes brother and drove the heel of his foot into the lawn, putting a dent in the turf. ‘There’s nothing else to do. We tried lying on the grass and making up cloud animals, but it got boooooring. Besides, it’s not a “sculpture”, it’s a slide. We’re allowed to play on it.’
‘You’re their mother?’ The handsome interloper turned towards Jody, his head angled in surprise. ‘You hardly look old enough. And are you going to just let that one tear up the grass?’
Jody drew in a breath in an attempt to keep her cool. ‘I’m well old enough, thank you very much.’ She raised a warning eyebrow at Tyler, who stilled his feet with an unimpressed glare.
‘You see, with the festival nearly here, everything must look perfect...’ The stranger stopped, and then took a step back. ‘Which is why I’m here, and I’m looking for someone. I don’t suppose you know Jody McArthur and where I could find her?’
Jody wavered between telling a lie and sending the man on his way, or telling the truth and having him save her bacon. An outraged squawk floated on the warm breeze from the direction of the hall. Damn it. She’d have to tell the truth.
‘Christian Middlemore, I presume?’
His eyes flared in surprise. ‘And you’ve come to this conclusion how?’
‘You’re the man who’s going to sort out this crazy festival mess we’ve got ourselves into. And I’m Jody McArthur, sculptor of that “damn rabbit”, and head of the festival committee.’ She thrust her hand forward. ‘I’m relieved to meet you.’
Christian’s lips parted in shock. ‘You? It was you who built that?’ He looked up at the ten-feet-tall rabbit, and then down at her, his eyebrow cocked in suspicion.
A knot of irritation formed in Jody’s stomach. Sure, she wasn’t Amazonian in height, but she was a respectable five-feet-six and knew her way around scaffolding.
She dropped her unshook hand to her side. ‘Yes, I sculpted it. You think I would lie?’ She gritted her teeth. What had she been thinking, bringing in this arrogant arse? Worse, using her own money – another act of quiet penance – to do it. Maybe the best idea would be to send him back to London. She’d just have to put her foot down and sort the festival out with an ‘it’s my way or the highway’ speech to the two Mrs H’s. ‘Look, Mr Middlemore…’
‘Call me Christian.’
‘Mr Middlemore. I’m sorry to do this to you, but we’re no longer in need of an event manager. I’m happy to pay the cost of your transport down here, and reimburse you for time lost, but—’
‘You’re firing me?’ Christian’s eyebrows arrowed together in surprise. ‘Already? Your online listing sounded desperate. And in your