by Karen King
‘Hattie, do you want me to stop . . .’ he murmured, his voice thick with longing.
She knew that he was asking her if she wanted to back out now before they went any further and for a moment she thought about it, the foolhardiness of getting involved with someone like Marcus when she would be leaving soon, but it was too late, she could no more pull away than she could stop breathing. She wanted this. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything, and she could tell that Marcus did too. She shook her head. ‘Please don’t.’
Afterwards, as they lay on the bed they had both moved to – without either of them saying a word – Marcus thought back over what had just happened. Their hands had started to remove each other’s clothes, then explore each other’s bodies, before making passionate love. He gazed down at Hattie in his arms, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling, her gorgeous body – that had until a few minutes ago been lying on top of his – was now curled up by his side. She was beautiful and sexy . . . and they really shouldn’t have done that. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t give in to his desire for her, that he would keep their relationship on a friendly basis. Some willpower he had.
‘Well, that was unexpected but wonderful,’ she murmured, kissing him on the lips. ‘Now, is this where you tell me it was a big mistake and we go back to being friends?’
He turned towards her. The question had been teasing but her expression was earnest. The way she was looking at him gave him the impression she felt the same way as him. He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Definitely not a mistake for me. How about a summer romance with no strings attached?’ he said lightly.
Her lips widened into a smile and she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Perfect,’ she said, pulling him closer.
Chapter Thirty-Three
They finally managed to prise themselves away from each other to have a quick shower, get dressed again and finish sorting out the stuff they’d pulled out of the wardrobe and was still sprawled all over the floor. If she hadn’t got viewers coming the next day, Hattie would have been tempted to leave it there, but now she had to make sure that the cottage was relatively tidy.
‘Right, that’s it all done,’ Marcus said when the bedroom floor was finally clear and everything was bagged up. ‘Now, how about we dispose of these and go for a swim. It’s a gorgeous afternoon.’
He was right, it was, and she really wanted to spend some time with him while they had the chance. ‘Deal,’ she said.
‘I’ll put this in the van, then and grab my swimming shorts.’ Marcus leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
She wound her arm around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
‘Carry on like that and we may have to give swimming a miss,’ he whispered in her ear when they finally stopped for breath.
She eased herself out of his embrace and tapped him on the nose with her finger. ‘No chance. I haven’t had a swim in the sea since I’ve been here and this is the perfect afternoon for it. You’ll have to wait until later.’
His eyes twinkled as he grabbed two of the bags. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Hattie picked up the remaining two bags and followed Marcus down the stairs with them, almost bubbling inside with happiness. Okay, so she hadn’t planned on getting involved with him, but what the hell. He was gorgeous and they were good together. Why not have a bit of fun? They both knew the score, a summer romance, no strings attached.
An hour later, they were both walking, hand in hand, across the soft, warm sand of the quiet beach Marcus had taken her to. She loved the feel of his hand in hers, of walking beside him side by side, of the way he squeezed her hand now and again and, when she turned to look at him, the way he smiled as if right here, right now, with her, was just where he wanted to be. It was just where she wanted to be too. Walking over this gorgeous beach, her flip-flops dangling from one hand, her feet sinking into the golden sand, the sun shining down on them both. She felt happy, free and . . . cared for.
There was barely a ripple on the turquoise sea, which was quite far out now, and the beach was almost deserted. Most of the holidaymakers would have gone home now the half-term break was over, Hattie realised. She knew that the main influx of visitors would come in July and August, as she and her parents had done. Some of the locals hated this summer invasion, even though they needed the money the holidaymakers spent. She could understand that feeling in a way, it was so peaceful and tranquil now, whereas when they had visited in August the streets had been so crowded her mother had always insisted she held Hattie’s hand, convinced she would be swallowed up in the crowd and never seen again, and the beach had been so packed it had been difficult to find a space to sit.
‘Here okay?’ Marcus’s voice cut through her thoughts and she blinked, then realised they had stopped a short distance from the water’s edge. ‘It’s dry here and the tide won’t be coming in for a few hours yet.’
She nodded. ‘Sure. We don’t want to have to walk a mile out to the sea.’ She put her flip-flops down on the sand and pulled off her vest, then wriggled out of her shorts. ‘Race you in!’
‘Hey, give me chance!’
She sprinted off as he started to pull off his top, eager to swim in the ocean as she used to do when she was younger, her father always swimming alongside her to make sure she didn’t get into trouble, her mother, not a strong swimmer, watching anxiously on the beach until they both finally came out and joined her on the sand. Her parents had both loved her, even if they had stopped loving each other, she reminded herself as her foot touched the water, its coldness making her hesitate for a moment. She’d forgotten that there was always a chill to the Atlantic Ocean – even in August she’d had to brace herself before she ran in.
‘Too cold for you?’ Marcus teased as he raced past her and dived in, his powerful arms crashing through the water as he did the crawl.
‘Nope!’ she shouted and dived in too, catching her breath as her body hit the cold water, but as soon as she started swimming – the breaststroke for her – she warmed up.
Marcus was ahead but she didn’t care. She was enjoying the feel of the water around her, the sun on her back, the gloriousness of her surroundings. She’d promised herself that she would come swimming every day, yet she’d been here over two weeks and hadn’t been for a swim once. Well, now she had settled in and done the worst of the tidying up, she might get chance to come more often.
Marcus was swimming back to her now. When he reached her, she turned and they both swam back towards the shore, stopping when their feet could touch the sand, and without either of them saying anything, turned to each other and melted into an embrace. As Hattie stood there, wrapped in Marcus’s arms, the sea lapping around her thighs, she thought that she had never felt happier.
‘Shall I pop around tonight after work or are you busy?’ Marcus asked as they sat on the soft sand, Hattie sitting between Marcus’s outstretched legs, her head resting back against his bare chest, his arms wrapped loosely over her shoulders. He kept his tone deliberately casual, wanting to see her but not wanting to sound too clingy, as if he was pressuring her. They both had things to do, they couldn’t spend every minute together.
She tilted her head back and looked up at him. ‘Now, that sounds like a lovely idea.’
He lowered his head and kissed her. ‘Shall I bring supper?’
She edged forward and half-turned towards hm. ‘Please. It’s such a bonus to be dating a chef.’
He wrapped his arms around her and eased her closer. ‘Are you saying that you’re only going out with me because of my cooking skills?’
‘Hmm, I can think of another skill I quite like . . .’
‘Only quite?’
She kissed him deeply, then pulled away, her eyes full of mischief, and stood up. ‘Stop fishing for compliments, we need to get going. You’ve got work in a couple of hours and I have a house to tidy for tomorrow.’
For the potential buyers.
He scrambled to hi
s feet, pushing away the thought of how much he would miss her. It could take months to sell a house, he reminded himself. Their romance would have run its course by then.
Wouldn’t it?
They chatted easily on the short journey home. As he pulled up to park the camper behind the cottages, he saw Winnie standing by her car, boot open, taking out a box. Several other boxes and bags were piled in the boot. She was back.
‘Afternoon, Winnie. Is your sister better?’ he asked as he opened the door to get out. Hattie was already scrambling out of the other side.
‘She is, thank you. I’m afraid I did a bit of shopping whilst I was there too. Very enjoyable but I’m wondering whether it was sensible. I’ve no idea where I’ll put it all.’
‘Let me help you take it inside.’ Marcus walked over to the boot, and Hattie followed him.
‘That’s very kind.’ Winnie’s sharp eyes flitted across to Hattie. ‘And who’s your young lady?’
‘I’m Hattie, your next-door neighbour,’ she said.
‘Oh goodness, you’re Owen’s daughter! You have the same eyes. So pleased to meet you, dear. Albert talked about you a lot.’
Marcus saw Hattie’s eyes cloud over and knew she was feeling guilty again.
‘Albert left his cottage to Hattie and her dad, so she’s come down to sort things out,’ he quickly filled in for her.
‘Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Hattie. And very kind of both of you to help me with my shopping. I appreciate it.’
They all grabbed a box each and carried it over to the gate. Winnie passed the keys she was holding in her hands to Marcus. ‘Open it up for me, will you, dear? If I put this box down I’ll never pick it back up again.’
Marcus bent one knee and balanced the box he was carrying on it, then unlocked the gate, pushed it open and stood back to let first Winnie, then Hattie, through.
‘Just put everything down by the back door, I can take it all in,’ Winnie said, putting the box she was carrying down then holding her hand out for the keys. Marcus passed them to her, winking at Hattie as Winnie opened the door, then followed her inside.
‘Sorry, but I’m not letting you carry all this in. I’ll bring the boxes into the kitchen and leave them there. I’ll put them here, make it easier for you to unpack them,’ he said, placing his box onto the kitchen table.
‘Stubborn as always,’ Winnie said with a smile.
Hattie placed her box by Marcus’s and then they all went back out to get the next batch. A couple more journeys and the boot was unloaded.
‘Thank you both. Will you stop for a cup of tea?’ Winnie was already reaching for the kettle.
‘I’m afraid that I have to go. I’m due in work soon,’ Marcus told her.
‘I will, thank you,’ Hattie said to his surprise. He wondered if she wanted to take the opportunity to meet her next-door neighbour or if she didn’t want to refuse.
‘See you later, then,’ Marcus said, kissing Hattie on the cheek.
‘I’ll have a bottle of wine chilling.’
‘Sounds great. Bye, Winnie!’ He waved and left, leaving the two women to chat.
After a quick freshen up and change, he dashed down the hill to work. He prided himself on never being late but he was cutting it fine today.
‘Have a good day at the beach, did you?’ Mandy asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips as he dashed into the reception.
‘What?’
‘You were spotted. With Hattie. Looking very close.’ She was delighting in teasing him. ‘I knew it as soon as I saw her. I knew you two belonged together. I had this feeling.’
Mandy and her feelings, Marcus thought in exasperation. ‘We’re just having a bit of a summer romance, Mandy. Nothing serious. Hattie put the cottage up for sale yesterday and has two viewings already. She’ll be gone in a couple of months.’
Even as he said the words, he felt his stomach sink.
Mandy folded her arms across her chest and looked at him. ‘She hasn’t left yet, lad, and my feelings are never wrong.’
Well, this time they are, Marcus thought, as he went through into the kitchen to take over from Shanise. Hattie had no intention of staying in Port Medden. And yes, he had a feeling he was going to really miss her but he would just have to deal with it. He’d known the score, and he certainly wasn’t going to be heartbroken like he had been with Kaylee.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Good morning, gorgeous.’
Hattie stirred and opened her eyes as Marcus kissed her on the forehead, then the nose, before finally resting his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and enjoyed the passionate kiss, thinking that even though this was the first morning she had woken up in bed with him, it seemed so natural. Just as natural as it had felt to suggest he stayed the night when they were both snuggled up on the sofa after eating the chicken hotpot Marcus had brought with him, and drinking the bottle of Pinot Grigio she’d had cooling in the fridge. Not that they’d got much sleep, hence why she was feeling so tired and groggy.
Not that she was complaining.
‘Want a cuppa or shall we . . . ?’ Marcus left the question dangling but his hands left no doubt as to what he was suggesting, and she felt the stirring of desire rise in her again.
‘We definitely should,’ she said, all thoughts of grabbing more sleep going out of her mind as she turned to him.
It was much later when they finally got out of bed. ‘Fancy coming surfing with me?’ Marcus asked.
Actually, she did, but should she? Jonathan was bringing the first viewers along today. Mind you, did she want to be here while they traipsed through Uncle Albert’s cottage and discussed whether to buy it or not?
‘Sorry, I forgot, you’ve got a viewing, haven’t you?’ said Marcus. ‘What time are they coming?’
‘Ten thirty and it’s . . .’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Heck, it’s nearly nine now. I need to shower and tidy round. I think I’d better give surfing a miss.’
‘No problem. I’ll go home and shower too. Good luck with the viewing, I’ll see you later. Yes?’
She nodded, wishing he didn’t have to dash, but then she had plenty to do herself and Marcus usually went surfing earlier so was probably eager to go.
He kissed her again, then left.
She got out of bed, smoothed down the sheet, pulled the bedcover over and plumped up the pillows before getting into the shower. By the time she’d had her shower and was dressed, she’d decided that she did want to be here when the viewers – a Mr and Mrs Howes, Jonathan had said – came. Apparently, they were looking for a holiday home for themselves rather than to let out, so she was hopeful they would think Fisherman’s Rest was right for them. Besides, it would be good to get some feedback after all the work she and Nick had done.
She tried to remember some of the tricks she’d read about how to make a home appealing when you wanted to sell it: ‘put colourful flowers in a vase’ – it was too late for that now; ‘brew proper coffee’ – but she always had instant; ‘have fresh bread baking’ . . . hmm all those were no-goers. ‘Make everywhere look clean and tidy’ – she could do that. She dashed around spraying everywhere with ‘Summer Breeze’ air freshener, plumping up curtains, straightening towels, and clearing the work surfaces, wanting to make sure the cottage looked at its best.
When there was finally a knock on the door – bang on time – she was a bag of nerves. She was so desperate for them to like the cottage, now she had spent so much time on it and put in so much hard work. Fixing a welcoming smile on her face, she went to the door, her hopes sinking as she caught the words
‘the garden’s so small’. Not a good first impression, she thought as she opened the door. Jonathan and a couple in their mid-forties, she’d have guessed, stood on the step in front of her.
‘Morning, Hattie. This is Mr and Mrs Howes,’ Jonathan said.
‘Do come in.’ Hattie stepped aside to give them room to step into the hall. The woman raised an eyebrow as her sharp
eyes rested on the worn carpet then flitted over to the scratched lounge door. Damn she’d meant to get a new carpet but hadn’t got round to it. ‘It needs a little updating,’ Hattie quickly said.
‘Shall I take over, Hattie?’ Jonathan asked, obviously not trusting her to big up the selling points of the cottage.
‘Please.’ She nodded.
Jonathan opened the door into the lounge. ‘As you can see, there are still many of the original features,’ he said enthusiastically.
The Howes exchanged ‘not very impressed’ glances.
‘When was that gas fire last serviced?’ Mr Howes asked.
‘Er . . . I don’t know, sorry. It was my uncle’s cottage,’ Hattie replied.
‘So, it’s basically one long room with an archway,’ Mrs Howes remarked as her eyes swept the room then rested on Buddy, who had been asleep up until they’d arrived.
‘Bugger off!’ he squawked and Mrs Howes gasped and turned furiously to Hattie.
‘Sorry, my uncle was a fisherman . . .’ Hattie said awkwardly, wondering if she should have moved Buddy up into the attic. Marcus had left the smaller cage with her in case she needed it.
As they walked around the cottage, uttering comments like, ‘it needs a lot of work’ when they were in the kitchen, ‘it’s a bit small’ when they went into the bathroom, with its newly painted walls, shiny new bathroom suite and light blue blinds, and ‘isn’t there an en suite?’ as they looked around the main bedroom, Hattie felt cross on Uncle Albert’s behalf.
‘My uncle was a fisherman and lived here for over fifty years,’ she said as Jonathan led them out into the back yard. ‘I think part of its charm is that it’s so traditional.’
‘Of course. We were looking for somewhere more modern, though,’ Mr Howes said a little more kindly.
‘And with more of a garden,’ said Mrs Howes, looking around disparagingly at Hattie’s colourful pots.
Hattie wondered if their comments were aimed at making her reduce the price, she’d heard that some viewers did that, and surely they couldn’t be totally oblivious to the character of the cottage. Well, they weren’t the sort of people she wanted to see living here. She wanted to sell the cottage to someone who appreciated it, who loved it as much as Uncle Albert had. As much as she was starting to. So when they had finally left, and Jonathan returned a few minutes later to tell her they weren’t making an offer, she felt like cheering.
