His fingers touched something cold and slimy and he yanked them back, knocking against the bunch of keys in the process. Thank God. Rising, he unlocked the door, opened it and turned on the hallway light. ‘Let’s get you both inside.’
‘You know your problem, mister? You’re too bloody bossy. He’s really bossy, Libs, did you know that? Boss, boss, boss, morning, noon, and night. I’m an independent working woman. I can take care of myself!’ Her last remark might have carried more weight had she not stumbled over the doorstep and into his arms. ‘You caught me.’ Her voice carried a dreamy quality which he would have taken full advantage of under other circumstances.
He couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’ll always catch you.’
‘I think I’m going to be sick.’ Libby elbowed past them to thunder up the stairs.
Beth looked at him, a little of the drunken fuzziness in her eyes clearing. ‘You don’t think she was being serious, do you?’
Sam winced. ‘I hope not, but we’d better go and find out.’
Letting her go first, he placed a hand at the small of her back to keep her steady and they made it upstairs without incident. He steered Beth into the kitchen and flipped the kettle on. ‘I’ll just go and check on Libby, make sure she’s okay.’
Heading down the end of the short hallway, he turned left and stopped dead at the sight of Libby perched on the toilet with her jeans around her ankles. ‘Bloody hell!’ He turned his back, praying the image wouldn’t be burned into his brain forever.
‘Oh my God, Sam, go away! What are you, some kind of perv? I’m peeing here!’ Her outraged shriek followed on his heels as he hurried back towards the kitchen.
‘She’s fine,’ he told Beth. ‘Hasn’t mastered the art of closing the bathroom door, but she’s fine. Do you want a cup of coffee?’
The bleary look was back in her eyes. ‘No. I’m sleepy, I just want to go to bed.’
So did he. But not to sleep. Unfortunately, March madness was definitely off the table. He shrugged to himself. There’d be other times. The toilet flushed and he went to help Beth to her feet. ‘Go clean your teeth and I’ll get you both a glass of water.’
Entering Beth’s bedroom, he navigated using the light spilling in from the hall and switched on the bedside lamp. The flowers he’d bought stood in the centre of her dressing table in one of her new vases. Emma had done a wonderful job with the arrangement, they couldn’t have matched her new colour scheme any better. Beth would see them the moment she opened her eyes, and it warmed him to realise she must have positioned them that way.
He returned to the kitchen, filled two large glasses with water and placed them on either side of the bed before following the sound of laughter back towards the bathroom. He tapped on the door. ‘If you two are all right, I’m going to head off.’
Beth opened the door, a toothbrush sticking out of one corner of her mouth, frothy bubbles around her lips. ‘Night, night.’ The words came out a bit garbled, but he got the gist.
‘Set your alarm before you go to sleep.’
She removed the toothbrush to point it at him. ‘So bossy.’
Leaning forward, he avoided the toothpaste foam and pecked a kiss on her cheek. ‘And get Libs to text her dad so he knows where she is when he wakes up in the morning.’
‘Oh my God, get out of here!’ There was amusement in her eyes though.
Sam strolled down the hallway. ‘And I left you both a glass of water by the bed. Make sure you drink them.’ He raised a hand to wave goodbye, ignoring her exasperated laughter. It was his job to take care of the things that were important to him—and Beth was riding high on his priority list.
After locking Beth’s back door and pushing the keys through the letterbox, Sam returned to the pub. He shrugged off his coat, hooked it over the bottom bannister and rolled up his sleeves as he walked into the bar. To his surprise, Annie was still up. The dirty glasses had all been collected and she was in the process of emptying and reloading the under-the-counter washer. ‘Mum? What are you doing? You should have left that for me.’
Pausing to pat his cheek, she gave him a sweet smile. ‘You don’t have to do everything, Sam. I heard you up and about this morning doing breakfasts, and you haven’t stopped since. Your dad wasn’t feeling too chipper so I sent him up to bed. He’s in a right grump because he’s been feeling so much better these past few days. I hope it doesn’t set him back too much.’
Sam pulled her into a quick hug. ‘We won’t let it, okay? If he’s still laid up tomorrow, I’ll spend some time with him going through ideas for Subterranean.’
His mum beamed at him. ‘He’d like that, darling.’
‘Me too.’
The rest of the week stretched Sam’s patience to the limit. He’d barely seen Beth for more than five minutes at a time so there’d been no chance for either of them to grab much more than the odd stolen kiss, never mind anything else. Having got so close to moving things between them to a deeper level of intimacy, his nights were filled with restless dreams.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that one taste of her sweetness wouldn’t be enough. A fling might have been his idea, but now he was beginning to regret it. He’d never been this hooked on a woman in his life, it seemed like every waking moment was filled with thoughts of her. And it wasn’t just about sex, though God knows he might go crazy if he didn’t get her underneath him soon. He wanted to speak to her, to ask her opinion on anything and everything. He just plain wanted to be with her.
On top of his growing need for Beth, he was worried about his dad. Paul hadn’t rallied as much as they’d hoped so Sam was back to covering the shifts he’d previously handed back to him. Which left him with even less time to spend with Beth. At least Sam had been able to keep his dad occupied doing research on possible materials for the restaurant. It had been the only way they’d been able to persuade him to stay in bed.
Lavender Bay’s Easter celebrations were in full swing, and a band of high pressure had settled over the county, pushing the temperature above seasonal norms. The endless sunshine had attracted an additional influx of visitors. Every room in the pub was booked solid. The first weekend had been focused around events and services at the church, but this final weekend of the holiday fortnight was centred around the beach and the businesses along the promenade.
The plans for the restaurant had been submitted to the council the previous week, and although he knew it was too soon to hear anything back from them, Sam was finding it hard to keep his mind on anything else. If they turned him down, he would be back to square one. Hard choices would have to be made because he could taste success like it was on the tip of his tongue. Coming this close to translating his dream into reality and losing it would break a fundamental part of him. His parents would understand, he was sure of that now. As for Beth…well, they’d not made any promises to each other.
A soft tug on his sleeve pulled him back to the here and now. ‘What do you think, Mr Barnes?’ Amy, one of the children staying in the pub, did a little twirl to show him her fancy-dress costume. From the pink and white bunny ears, to a set of stiff nylon wings and a matching tutu, it was an eclectic mishmash of the contents of a dressing-up box. She looked adorable, and he told her so, smiling as she skipped back out of the breakfast room where he’d been clearing away the plates.
There was to be a children’s parade, led by some poor volunteer in an Easter Bunny costume, followed by a treasure hunt. Each of the businesses along the seafront had signed up to participate and the children had to solve clues which would give them a series of letters that needed to be rearranged to find the answer. Once they’d solved the puzzle, the children would return to the starting station on the beach to collect a goodie bag. The event had been organised jointly between the traders’ association and the local Round Table group. There would be other activities, including egg and spoon races, musical statues and the like which would culminate in a huge picnic on the beach.
He’d just finis
hed putting the boxes of cereal, condiments and place mats in the bottom of the Welsh dresser when his dad called to him from the doorway. ‘Are you about ready?’
Sam closed the heavy wooden doors and nodded. ‘All set. Are you sure you’re up for this?’ Despite his best efforts, his dad had refused point blank to miss the celebrations.
‘Don’t fuss. I’m fine. Besides I can’t let the rest of the committee down, can I?’ His dad had been heavily involved with the Round Table for several years.
‘All right, Dad, I’ll shut up.’ At least he had his stick with him, which was something.
Preparations were in full swing when they arrived on the beach and Sam made sure his dad was settled on a fold-out camping chair in the main tent before he headed out with one of the other committee members to help mark out lanes for the races. A large area in the centre of the beach had been coned off the night before and it was his job to bang in stakes with a wooden mallet at regular intervals so strings of bunting could be strung between them.
From the looks of the groups of towels, umbrellas and windbreaks set up on the margins of the beach, they were in for a good crowd. The heat of the sun felt good on his shoulders as he worked, and by the time he’d finished his T-shirt had begun to stick to the damp skin at the base of his spine. He untucked it to let a bit of air cool him off, and followed the others back to the green-and-white striped gazebo the committee were using as a base of operations.
He stopped short at the sight of his dad perched on a stool at the back of the tent, his arms propped up on his thighs. A man was crouched next to Paul, talking quietly and a cold shiver chased the pleasant warmth of the sun away when Sam recognised Dr Williams, their local GP. Damn, he should have put his foot down and made his dad stay at home. Heart in his throat, Sam wove through the crowded tent towards them.
It wasn’t until he was almost on top of them that he released the two men were laughing. His dad broke off the conversation to stare up at him. ‘Everything all right, son?’
Sam forced himself to smile through the wave of relief which threatened to overwhelm him. ‘Yes, fine. I just wanted to check in with you before I go back and open up.’ The raised eyebrow told him his dad wasn’t buying it, but he let Sam off with nothing more than a shake of his head. It took the entire length of his walk back to the pub for his hands to stop shaking.
The bar wasn’t officially open yet, but he pinned the clue on the wall by the front door and added a basket of mini chocolate eggs before propping open the door. As excited kids trooped in and out, he sorted through the stock he would need for the lunchtime picnic. Along with a few of the other traders, he’d decided to set up on the promenade. The fridge upstairs was full of sandwiches and he’d already loaded the freezer with extra bags of ice.
At just after eleven-thirty, he carted a couple of trestle tables outside and set them up next to the safety barrier at the edge of the prom. Three large tin baths were followed by a dozen trips to lug the bags of ice which he cut open and poured into the tubs. With the help of a sack truck he wheeled out boxes of pre-chilled bottles of beer, cans of fizzy pop and bottles of water.
He got halfway through filling the tubs with drinks when he realised he should have brought out the sandwiches. Damn. Much as he trusted his friends and neighbours, leaving a stack of unguarded booze was asking for trouble. A warm hand rested against the base of his spine, and the heady, warm scent of a familiar perfume filled his nostrils. ‘Hey, stranger, need a hand?’
Turning, Sam smiled down at Beth, his smile growing a little wider as his vantage point afforded him a spectacular view down the front of the pretty floral dress she was wearing. ‘Hey, beautiful.’
She poked a finger in his ribs. ‘Eyes up, Mister.’
Happy to oblige, her stared deep into the soft, chocolate warmth of her gaze. ‘Hello there.’
Conscious the crowds along the promenade would include their friends and neighbours, Sam knew he should move back, put a respectable distance between them before they set tongues wagging. He couldn’t do it though, he could barely keep himself for reaching for her and dragging her into his arms. Clenching his fists at his sides, he held her gaze, trying to convey the tumult of need inside him. Her eyelashes shuttered down, then up and he could hear a catch in her breath.
‘You could set a girl on fire with a look like that, Samuel Barnes. I hope you’re ready to back it up because I’m here to kidnap you.’
That sounded like his idea of heaven, but there was no chance of the two of them bunking off work. ‘What about the shop?’
‘Half-day closing.’ She patted his chest. ‘Look I had a great morning thanks to the treasure hunt and everybody’s going to be too busy having fun on the beach. So, what do you say, are you ready for a bit of March madness?’
He groaned at her use of those stupid words of his. Why had he ever suggested it in the first place? He didn’t want a fling, he wanted to court her properly. Take her out on a few dates, or spend a long evening cooking for her, using his talents to show her how special she was to him. But he’d made this bed, and it was up to him to honour the deal they’d made.
Forcing levity into his voice, he smiled down at her. ‘I’d love to, you won’t believe how much I’d love to, but I have to look after things here.’ He let his eyes trace the sweetheart neckline of her bodice with a look of profound regret.
Beth laughed. ‘I’m going to have to wear this dress more often. Right, if I can’t tempt you away, then how about I lend you a hand here?’ She nodded past his shoulder and he turned to find a small queue had already formed on the beach below them.
‘Can you hold the fort for two minutes?’ Digging in his pocket he scattered some coins on the table. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of minutes with a proper float and the sandwiches. Beer is £3 or two for a fiver, soft drinks are all a pound.’
‘Got it.’ Smiling in welcome, she stepped past him to greet the first person in the queue. The view from the back of her dress might have been even more sexy than the front. It cinched in tight at the waist before flaring out over her hips thanks to some kind of stiff under skirt. A diamond-shaped cut out between her shoulder blades begged him to explore that tempting glimpse of skin. Hold that thought.
His worries about his dad, and the stress over whether his application for the restaurant would go through melted away in the face of the promise of a gorgeous woman in a pretty dress. Getting to spend the day with Beth might be just the distraction he needed. With his killer schedule, time with her was a precious commodity. He didn’t intend to waste a single second.
Chapter Nineteen
The next hour flew past in a blur of chilled bottles, sandwiches and laughter. She and Sam worked together in perfect harmony, handling the queues like they’d done it for years. Sam made two more trips inside to replenish the stock and the ice before things started to quieten down. Taking a breather, Beth leaned her arms on the railing and watched in delight as the first of the races took place. A little girl wobbled her way over the line to huge cheers, beaming from ear to ear like she’d won an Olympic medal rather than an egg and spoon race. The Easter Bunny gave her a high five then raised her arm to acknowledge the cheers from the crowds.
Beth pointed him out to Sam. ‘That guy is earning his money, today. He must be sweltering inside that costume.’
Sam popped the top on a beer and came to join her by the railings. After taking a sip, he handed her the cold bottle and settled his arm around her waist. ‘It’s a nightmare.’
Choking on the beer, she lowered her drink to stare at him. ‘You’ve been the Easter Bunny? What? When?’
He shrugged. ‘A few years ago. Dad talked me into it when I was home from university for the Easter break. I’ll let you into a secret, it doesn’t matter how well they dry-clean that suit, it still smells of sweat.’
‘Oh, gross.’ Beth cringed. ‘I could have happily gone the rest of my life without knowing that. Why would you tell me?’
Sam grin
ned and took the beer from her. ‘I’m sharing, that’s what couples are supposed to do, right?’
‘Right.’ A little shiver of awareness rippled through her. They were a couple. It didn’t matter how much they talked about a fling, or that they hadn’t taken things beyond hot and heavy embraces, she was falling for him. Sam might believe they could just have a bit of fun, a no-strings attached good time, but she just wasn’t cut out for it.
There were so many strings, a whole web of them tying them together. The past, their friends and family, the future they could have. And it wasn’t only about him. The emporium, this funny little community where everyone knew everyone else’s business and weren’t afraid to express an opinion about it. All the things she’d never wanted were suddenly all the things she craved.
‘You cold?’ Sam rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm, causing more goose pimples to spread over her flesh.
‘Not anymore.’ Beth turned into him, ignoring the hum of people around them and buried her face in his chest. Breathing deep, she drew in the scent of spicy aftershave, sun-warmed cotton and that indefinable thing that was all him. ‘You smell good.’
A chuckle rumbled against her cheek. ‘Thank you.’ His hand tangled in her hair and he pressed his lips to her temple. ‘You smell pretty damn nice yourself.’
‘Thanks.’ Beth giggled, tried to hold it in, then giggled again. Sam’s chest vibrated beneath her and he made some kind of odd choking-cough-laugh. The giggles bubbled free, building until Beth had to step away from him and bend at the waist to try and break the stitch in her side. Beside her, Sam howled with laughter, his hand resting on her back as the two of them fell to pieces. ‘Oh, God,’ she gasped. ‘We are so weird.’
Sam leaned back against the railing. ‘Is this what people do? Sniff each other? Is this a thing?’
Beth leaned against him, trying to get her breathing under control. ‘Apparently it’s a thing. It’s our thing.’
‘Hey, you two what’s so funny?’ Annie’s question set them both off again. ‘Okay, private joke, I guess.’
Spring at Lavender Bay Page 19
