“For frightening you half to death. Luckily for me you have a gentler disposition than your mother or I’d currently be lying unconscious in hospital with a dent in my skull.” He flashed her a smile. “Sorry. I should have rung the doorbell instead of walking into the kitchen, but I didn’t know anyone would be there, so I used my key.” He stood back and pushed open the door. “Come in.”

“Oh there’s no need to—I mean, I wanted to give you—” Distracted by that smile, her words tripped over each other and she walked up the steps to the door and thrust out the bag. “It’s a lemon meringue pie, and a batch of my chocolate chip cookies. Two of my specialties. I wasn’t sure what to bring.” The fact that Finn Cool had a key to her mother’s house still hadn’t quite sunk in. Why hadn’t her mother mentioned it?

“You have more than two specialties? In that case you need to call the police on me more often so I can eat my way through your repertoire. Thank you, Liza. That was thoughtful. I’d say you shouldn’t have bothered, but I never turn down food. Come into the kitchen.” He took the bag and walked into the house.

Was he being polite? Surely the last thing he wanted was a strange woman in his home.

She waited a moment and then followed him, closing the door behind her.

She had to admit she was curious about the house, and it didn’t disappoint. Light flowed through a glass atrium high above them, bouncing off acres of white floor tiles. Italian, she thought, and almost drooled with envy. The designer had played with space and color, keeping the scheme mostly white but introducing flashes of blue that gave a Mediterranean feel. Liza had more than a passing interest in interior design. She’d even explored the idea of joining Sean in his practice, but in the end they’d decided that two people working in the same business wasn’t a good idea. And teaching had meant she was able to spend more time with the girls.

But still she occasionally hankered after it. She was incapable of walking into a property and not immediately imagining how she would change the interior.

But she’d change nothing about this house.

It was a modern architectural masterpiece. Sean would have appreciated the simplicity.

Thinking of Sean created a pang. The state of her marriage was never far from her mind, gnawing at her like toothache.

All she’d had from him this morning since that one conversation was a quick text. Have you seen my blue shirt?