She immediately put down the trowel she was using to plant out seedlings, and got to her feet. As she rounded the corner, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find, but it certainly wasn’t Seb pinning her ex-husband to the side of the house, Matthew’s face planted hard against the rough timber boards. ‘Seb! What are you doing?’ ‘Go inside and call the cops, I think I caught your stalker.’ ‘Seb! Let him go,’ Rebecca gasped, still too shocked to completely grasp what was happening. ‘What?’ ‘Let him go, Seb! That’s my ex-husband. The girls’ father!’ For a minute she thought Seb was going to refuse: he stared at her with a tight, foreboding frown, before he gave a slight shove, pressing Matthew’s face harder into the planks against the house, and took a reluctant step back. Matthew turned and immediately began hurling abuse at the big man before him, sizing Seb up as he ranted, but never making a move to retaliate physically. There wasn’t a great deal of difference in the men’s height, even their weights were not dissimilar, but there was a toughness – a danger – to Seb’s body language, and it didn’t take a genius to realise it would be playing with fire to provoke him at the moment.
