Spring at Lavender Bay

by Sarah Bennett

  ‘Of course.’ She reached for the ring of keys clipped to a bungy cord at her waist and unlocked the glass front so she could lift out the trays. After studying the selection, she chose a bracelet of silver filigree flowers studded with delicate agate stones. There was a matching necklace with a single, larger flower and a choice of stud or drop earrings. Laying them out on a black velvet square she’d bought especially to best display items customers wanted a closer look at, she continued to browse the trays whilst Mick touched a tentative fingertip to the bracelet.

  ‘Here, I think either of these rings will go with them. They’re not a perfect match, but the stones are close enough in shading to compliment. Take your time and decide which combination of items you want, and I’ll gift wrap them for you.’

  ‘Thanks, lovey. You’re a lifesaver.’

  The bell rang. ‘Will you be all right for a minute while I see to this new customer?’

  Mick waved her away. ‘Of course, take your time.’

  Beth set her shoulders back and turned with a smile. ‘Welcome to Eleanor’s Emporium.’

  Her mouth dried a little at the sight of the stunningly handsome man filling the doorway. Tall and broad through the shoulders, his figure tapered to a trim waist emphasised by the superior cut of his jacket. Whoever he was, he was definitely not a tourist. The dark hair cropped severely to his scalp gave him a hard edge that the smart clothes and easy smile couldn’t quite cancel out.

  Approaching with an instinctive sense of caution, Beth asked, ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘Are you the proprietor?’ When she nodded, he took a long look around the shop before settling his piercing dark eyes back upon her. ‘Owen Coburn.’

  The way he said his name implied she should recognise it, but she was sure they’d never met before. Owen Coburn didn’t have the kind of face you would forget in a hurry. Not that she would admit that. ‘I’m sorry, have we met?’

  With a look she was going to politely pretend wasn’t just this side of a sneer, he pulled a business card out of his pocket. ‘Your solicitor should have told you about me.’

  The logo in the top left corner brought the memory flooding back. ‘You’re the one who wanted to buy the emporium.’

  He nodded. ‘I was surprised to have my offer knocked back. I thought it was very generous given the circumstances.’

  She was starting to find that superior tone irritating. ‘Circumstances?’

  Turning a circle, he held out his hands to encompass the room. ‘You’re not exactly sitting on a goldmine, are you? Penny sweets and inflatable crocodiles aren’t going to make you rich.’ Maybe it was the echo of her own thoughts, or maybe it was the condescending glint in his eye, but Owen Coburn was suddenly a lot less attractive.

  Bristling, she let the smile she’d been holding fall away. ‘As my solicitor informed you, I’m not interested in selling so your opinion on my business hardly counts, does it? Now is there something I can get you? We’ve had a run on buckets and spades this morning. Maybe you should buy one, help you with that hole you’re digging.’

  To her surprise, the man threw his head back and laughed. ‘Feisty one, aren’t you? Maybe you’d like to join me in the pub for a drink later and I’ll see if I can do anything to sweeten the offer.’ The gleam in his eye told her exactly what form any negotiations with him would take.

  Cheeky bastard! First, he insulted her, then he tried to proposition her. ‘I could say I’m flattered by your offer, but I’d be lying.’ She handed him back his card.

  Owen held up his hands in surrender. ‘Message received, loud and clear. I won’t take up any more of your time.’ He turned on his heel to head for the door, paused, then walked quickly to the counter and dropped his business card. ‘Just in case you change your mind about selling, or anything else for that matter.’ With an outrageous wink, he was gone.

  Of all the arrogant…

  ‘Who was that, lovey?’ Mick Stone interrupted Beth before she could build up a really good head of steam.

  ‘Nobody important. Some developer who offered to buy the place not long after Eleanor died. Wanted to turn the place into luxury flats or some such nonsense.’ She dusted off her hands, dismissing all thoughts of Owen bloody Coburn and his smarmy grin. ‘Have you decided what you wanted?’

  Mick stared over his shoulder at the door for a long moment before turning back to her with a smile. ‘I thought I’d get her the lot. She works so hard, and I’ve not always been good in showing my appreciation. She’s not had an easy life, and I hate that she had to grow up so quickly, what with her mum and everything.’

  The sadness clouding his eyes threatened to bring tears to her own. It must be a dozen years or more since his wife’s tragic death, but it was clear Mick still carried a torch for her. She cleared her throat, not wanting him to catch on to the sympathy she felt for him. Libby had a proud streak a mile-wide and there was no mistaking which parent she’d inherited it from. ‘Let’s get these wrapped up nicely then.’ She gathered the velvet cloth in her hands.

  He followed her as she moved behind the counter, then leaned over it in a conspiratorial manner. ‘I worry about her, lovey. I thought the hair and the clothes would be a phase, but she’s not showing any signs of growing out of it. I know she confides in you, you would tell me if there was anything wrong?’

  He looked so concerned, Beth’s heart went out to him. ‘She’s fine, Mick, although you might have to accept that the way she looks and dresses isn’t a phase. I reckon when me, her and Eliza are living out our golden years up at Baycrest she’ll still have rainbow hair.’

  Mick chuckled. ‘I reckon you’re right. She’s a bit of a peacock, likes to stand out in the crowd, does my girl.’

  Beth took some sheets of coloured tissue paper from beneath the counter and wrapped each piece of jewellery carefully before placing them in a red and white striped box bearing the words ‘Eleanor’s Emporium’ in the same font as the exterior signage. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, Mick.’

  ‘Nothing wrong at all.’ After paying with his credit card, he held up the little paper bag she’d slipped the box into. ‘Thanks for your help with this, you’re a star.’

  ‘My pleasure. And thank you for giving Libby so much time off lately. I couldn’t have achieved half what I have with this place without her support.’

  Mick nodded. ‘You’re welcome. Having you back home means the world to her. The absolute world.’

  She surprised herself by replying, ‘It does to me too. Tell her I’ll wander up for closing and take her for a drink. And don’t forget to think about selling me your stones. I’m going to keep asking.’

  He left the shop with a nod and a wave, and Beth leaned her elbows on the counter with a sigh. For the first time since opening the place was quiet. Slipping off her shoes, she pressed the soles of her feet into the cold floor, closing her eyes as the burn in her arches faded. She really needed to get some flats.

  She pulled out her tablet from underneath the counter and clicked the shopping icon. A vast array of shoes popped up, from glitter-studded mules to the kind of sensible lace-ups her mum had forced her to wear all through junior school. Her finger hovered over a pair of expensive designer ballet flats with a pretty bow on the top. You’re not exactly sitting on a goldmine, are you? Owen’s mocking words echoed in her mind, and she scowled.

  Sod him. He’d just been trying to psych her out, nothing more. Time to put Owen Coburn and his cocky smile in the bin where he belonged. But when she searched the counter top there was no sign of his business card. Good riddance.

  If she adjusted her search parameters to list the shoes from cheapest to most expensive it was at her own volition.

  ‘Oh my God, you are a lifesaver!’ Libby yanked off her hair net and apron and stuffed them beneath the counter. She leant over to peck a quick kiss on Mick’s cheek. ‘Are you sure you’re all right to close up, Dad?’

  ‘Absolutely. Go out and have some fun, at least I’ll get
to watch the football highlights in peace. Now, have you got your keys?’

  Libby rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Dad.’

  ‘Good girl.’ He opened the till and pulled out a twenty-pound note. ‘Have a drink on me, you need to celebrate Beth’s first day.’

  ‘Aww, you’re the best.’ She kissed his cheek again, pocketed the money then slid open the warming cabinet. ‘Look what I saved for you!’ Withdrawing a battered sausage, she wrapped the bottom in a napkin and handed it to Beth, then took the last one for herself.

  ‘I haven’t had one of these in years.’ Beth bit into the greasy treat with a little sound of bliss. ‘Good. So good.’

  ‘I know, right? Come on let’s wash these down with some bubbles.’

  Arm in arm they made their way along the promenade, giggling and eating their sausages. Beth wiped her fingers on the napkin, then tucked it in her coat pocket. ‘You should have seen this guy who was in the emporium this morning. He was gorgeous—right up until the moment he opened his mouth, anyway.’

  ‘What about Sam?’

  ‘What about Sam? You know we’re just good friends.’

  Libby snorted. ‘Are you two still selling that line? I see the way you look at each other.’

  ‘Oh, give over.’ Turning away so Libby couldn’t see her blush, Beth pushed open the door to the pub The smell of good food and the hoppy aroma of beer hit in a warm, welcoming wave.

  There were a few locals scattered around the place and a familiar set of broad shoulders at the bar. ‘Oh, crap.’ Beth made a beeline for their favourite table beneath the window, dragging Libby with her.

  ‘Slow down, where’s the fire?’ Her friend grumbled as Beth shushed her and patted the seat next to her.

  ‘It’s going to be in your pants in about five seconds.’ Beth nudged her and pointed towards the bar.

  ‘What are you talking ab…oh, thank you, Jesus! I’m sorry for all the times I doubted you, and I’ll go to church every Sunday from now on.’ Libby put her hands into prayer position as she raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  Laughing, Beth pulled the napkin out of her pocket. ‘Here, I think there’s actual drool on your face.’

  Eyes shining, Libby glanced her way. ‘That’s him, right? That’s the guy you were talking about?’

  ‘Uh huh. And if you think the rear view is fine, wait until he turns around. Just a shame he’s a colossal arse.’ Beth abandoned the pleasing view of Owen’s back to where Sam was pulling pints behind the bar. Glancing up, he caught her eye and tipped her a quick wink. She gave a quick look around to check no-one was watching then gave him a warm smile in return.

  ‘What about Sam, indeed. You two are about as subtle as a brick,’ Libby scoffed before fumbling in her pocket. ‘This note is burning a hole in my pocket, I’m getting us the bubbles.’

  Open-mouthed, Beth watched her friend stalk to the bar, noting she positioned herself into the eyeline of Owen Coburn. Annie was covering that end of the bar and she gave Libby a quick smile of acknowledgement as she finished up with her current customer. As though connected by an invisible thread, her attention was drawn back to Sam.

  Sam, who fixed her plumbing disasters, bought her flowers the perfect shades to match her new décor, teased her, and challenged her, and kissed her until she saw stars. Sam, who was smiling a little too widely at a pretty blonde customer.

  Moving before she consciously understood what she was doing, she walked towards the bar, making sure to catch his attention, she cut her eyes to door leading to the back and swung through it. The door opened moments later, and Sam stepped through. ‘Is everything okay?’

  Closing the distance between them, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt. ‘You’re mine, Sam Barnes, do you hear me? For as long as this fling between us lasts. You. Are. Mine.’ Stretching on tiptoe, she hooked her other hand around the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. To his credit, it took less than a second to get on board with the plan and was kissing her back.

  The familiar press of his lips spread a delicious heat through her abdomen and she opened to the first flicker of his tongue. His hands closed around her, pulling her closer into his body, taking control. One of these days she might get fed up of his natural bossiness. In twenty of thirty years, maybe. For now, she was content to revel in the way his broad palm slotted perfectly at the base of her spine, holding her steady, keeping her in place when she might float away on a cloud of bliss.

  ‘Not that I’m complaining,’ he said, pressing kisses along the edge of her jaw. ‘But what brought this on?’

  If she hadn’t been so distracted by those clever lips, she might not have blurted out. ‘You were staring at that blonde.’

  His rich chuckled sent delicious vibrations through her. ‘You were jealous’.

  She pulled back. ‘What? No! You were practically face-first in her cleavage.’

  ‘She was the other side of the bar from me!’ He stepped into her, one arm clamping around her waist in a possessive grip. ‘You were jealous.’ She imagined the expression on his face was similar to that worn by the original hunter-gatherers when they speared a sabre-toothed tiger or clobbered a woman over the head and dragged her back to his cave. Primal with a hint of smugness.

  Beth rolled her eyes. ‘You’re going to be impossible now, aren’t you?’

  Bending to kiss her nose, he grinned. ‘Not at all.’ He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘Well, maybe just a little bit. So, I was thinking I could pop over later, help you celebrate your first official day of trading.’

  From the glint in his eye, there was no mistaking what his idea of celebrating would entail. Anticipation fizzed inside her. ‘Oh, you did, did you?’

  He nuzzled her cheek. ‘I’ve missed you, Beth.’ She melted against him. ‘What do you say? Are you in the market for a little March madness?’

  Not wanting to return to the bar at the same time, Sam went first whilst Beth ducked into the ladies’ toilet to catch her breath. A quick finger comb managed to straighten her mussed up hair, but having left her handbag in the bar, she couldn’t do anything about the lipstick he’d kissed off, nor the rosiness of her cheeks. She’d just have to brazen it out. Setting her shoulders back, she walked back into the bar area, not risking a look to the left lest she catch Sam’s eye and blow the whole thing.

  Libby waited for her at their table, a bottle resting in an ice bucket in front of her, and a dark scowl across her face. ‘You took your time.’

  Smoothing her skirt, Beth sat down beside her and reached for the bottle. ‘Sorry, I had to pop to the ladies’. Are you ready to celebrate?’

  ‘Hmm? Yeah, sure.’ There was a tightness around her eyes, and she sounded distracted. Beth followed her friend’s eyeline to where Owen Coburn stood staring grimly into his pint. He drained what was left in his glass, slammed it down then stormed past, casting an angry look in their direction.

  Libby muttered something obscene under her breath then snatched the bottle from Beth’s grasp. ‘Come on, before I die of thirst.’

  Raising her hands out of the way, Beth eased back into the padded back of her seat. ‘What’s that all about?’

  Libby glared at her. ‘You should have warned me, why didn’t you warn me? That man is the most insufferable, arrogant wanker I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’ She sent the cork flying with a loud ‘pop’ and tilted the bottle over one of the slender flutes. The champagne fizzed up the glass, threatening to bubble over.

  ‘Give me that!’ Beth steadied the bottle then eased it from Libby’s grasp to fill her own glass. ‘And I did warn you. You were too busy admiring the view to pay attention.’

  Libby sniffed in response and raised her glass to her lips, there was no mistaking the hurt in her eyes. Reaching over to still her hand, Beth squeezed her wrist. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  Libby shook her off. ‘Nothing happened. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about Owen Coburn ever again.’ Slumping back in her s
eat, Libby closed her eyes for a long moment and blew out a breath. When she opened them again, the tension in her face had gone. ‘Right then, let’s get back to celebrating. Tell me every single thing that happened in the emporium today.’

  Knowing when to back off was an essential part of the friendship code so Beth launched into a detailed description of her day. There were two vital incidents she skipped over—Mick’s birthday shopping trip, and the unwelcome visit of one Owen Coburn.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The friendship code sucked. After that super-hot kiss Beth had laid on him, and their subsequent discussion, Sam had spent the rest of the evening imagining how it might end. He’d pictured locking the bolt on the front door behind the last of the customers then lifting a giggling Beth onto an empty bar stool as he stepped between her thighs and picked up where they’d left off. The two of them would then creep up the stairs and past his parents’ bedroom door to tumble onto his mattress in a tangle of limbs and heated whispers. The winning scenario…that started with him taking Beth’s keys from her trembling fingers and unlocking the back door leading to her flat.

  And here they were… He reached out to help her.

  ‘Oops, butterfingers!’ Beth giggled as her keys tumbled to the floor. It wasn’t the sexy kind of giggle he’d been daydreaming about though. It was the ‘shouldn’t have had that second bottle’ kind. At least the dark would hide the frustration he was sure was written all over his face.

  ‘I really need to pee, come on, B, stop messing around.’ Libby hopped from foot to foot. And none of his fantasies had involved a drunk, possibly-incontinent third wheel.

  ‘I’ll get them. Ouch!’ Sam and Beth both bent down at the same time, their foreheads clashing hard enough to make his ears ring. He grabbed hold of Beth before she could tumble on her backside and propped her up against the wall next to Libby. ‘Leave it, I’ll find them.’ He crouched down, fumbling in the pitch black. ‘It might be an idea to leave your security light on if you’re coming home late, sweetheart.’