by H. Y. Hanna
“Well, if I didn’t think it would damage my manly reputation, I’d wear one behind my ear,” said Craig in a teasing voice. “The right ear,” he added softly as he led her into the café.
CHAPTER 8
Sara looked around with interest as they entered the café. The place was decorated with simple, rustic charm: faded wooden furniture, canvas seats, and potted palms in various corners. There were several tables inside, but most of the people seemed to be sitting at tables outside on the terrace. Craig led the way to the edge of the terrace where an intimate table was set for two, with a small posy of flowers and a flickering candle between them.
Sara caught her breath. She didn’t think she had ever been to dinner in a more beautiful setting. Beyond the table, the view stretched to the horizon, showing a deep indigo sea beneath a sky which was still streaked with crimson and orange. The beach spread below them like a blanket of pale grey and, in the distance, the dark silhouettes of the clifftops formed a dramatic cut out against the evening sky.
The shrill call of a seagull rang out close by and, beyond it, Sara could hear the soft murmuring of the ocean. A breeze stirred her hair, fanning the tendrils away from her face and bringing a whisper of goosebumps across her bare arms.
She sat down and sighed with contentment. “Summer Beach is so incredibly beautiful. I don’t know how anybody who has been here could ever leave.”
“Well, hopefully sometimes they don’t.”
Sara looked quickly at him, but Craig’s blue eyes were in shadow and she couldn’t read the expression in them. Had she heard him right? Or was she just reading extra meaning into his words? Feeling a blush tinge her cheeks, she hastily pulled the menu towards her and flipped it open, just to give herself something to do.
“A man I met on the plane said I must try the yabbies here,” Sara commented, scanning the items on the menu. Everything sounded delicious. She didn’t know how to begin to choose.
“Yabbies?” Craig made a face. “Yeah, they’re a house special here, but I’m not a huge fan of them myself. Order them if you like, though.”
“You know what?” Sara smiled, pushing her menu towards him. “I’m just going to let you order everything.”
Craig raised an eyebrow, then gave her that grin again. The one that turned her insides to mush. Sara didn’t know how she could have ever found Jeff’s fake smile attractive. That was a pale imitation of the real thing on this man here.
“Do you like fish?” he asked.
Sara nodded. “As long as they’re not raw.”
“Okay, how about some barramundi? One of the best Australian fish. Really tender, moist white flesh. And maybe calamari and some bread dips to start?” He picked up the wine list. “What do you say to a Hunter Valley cabernet sauvignon?”
Sara smiled. “It all sounds great. I can’t wait.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not one of those girls who insists on only eating lettuce salad,” said Craig.
“Maybe I should be more like that sometimes,” muttered Sara, looking ruefully down at her figure.
“You’re perfect just as you are.” His blue eyes were serious.
Sara stiffened as memories of Jeff’s words on breakfast TV came back to her. “I love her just the way she is.” She looked at Craig. Did any man ever really mean those words? Or was it always just a throwaway line, a thing they said because they knew that was what women wanted to hear?
“G’day, Craig—haven’t seen you round for a while.”
They both looked up as a girl in a black waitress outfit came over to their table, pen and pad poised. She had the most incredible dyed hair—a shade of bright bubblegum pink—and a scary-looking silver spike through one eyebrow, but her smile was wide and friendly. She eyed Sara with open curiosity.
Craig smiled at her. “Hi Kylie. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, you know… usual. Flat out like a lizard drinking. Had this part-timer here that was a total bludger. Thank God the boss finally gave him the boot this arvo. You guys ready to order?”
Sara blinked. She had understood about five words of what the girl said. She watched silently as Craig gave their order. But when he finished, Kylie seemed in no hurry to leave.
She leaned towards Sara. “You new here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Um… yes, I’m just visiting my cousin, Ellie Monroe,” Sara said.
Kylie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so you’re a Yank too! Yeah, I can totally hear it in your accent. When did you get here? How long you planning to stay?” Her eyes flicked towards Craig and her smile became speculative. “You’re a quick one, huh? Snagged yourself a handsome vet to take you round to see the sights. I’ll bet—”
“Kylie…” said Craig in an exasperated tone.
“All right, all right… don’t spit your dummy. I’ll go order your tucker.” She stuck her pen behind her ear and sauntered off.
“Wow,” said Sara, watching her leave. “I don’t think I could ever come here alone unless I brought an interpreter with me.”
Craig laughed. “You’ll learn the lingo really quickly. Give it a few weeks and you’ll be talking like a true-blue Aussie.”
I won’t be here in a few weeks, thought Sara. And the thought filled her with sadness. There was something magical about this place—this small seaside town on the other side of the world, with friendly, warm people who spoke such quaint English and a stunningly beautiful setting that was straight out of a postcard.
She looked across the table at Craig. And him.
Suddenly, she wished she wasn’t going back to the States next week. Her life in California seemed so far away now. Well, it was far away, she knew, in distance, but that wasn’t what she meant. Far away as in vague, unreal, irrelevant… her old life, her humdrum job… She felt like she had been drifting aimlessly along in a big wide sea and now suddenly she had come ashore onto an island paradise. This was where she wanted to be.
“Sara?”
She blinked, coming out of her thoughts. “Sorry,” she laughed. “I was miles away. On the other side of the Pacific Ocean, in fact.”
“Feeling homesick?” he asked.
“No, no,” Sara assured him. “In fact, I was just thinking of my life back in L.A. and thinking that I wouldn’t miss much… well, except my dog, Coco.”
“You have a dog?”
“Yes, a Beagle.”
“Ah…” He smiled. “Now I’m beginning to understand better why you were so upset yesterday morning.”
Sara ducked her head sheepishly. “Yeah, I did overreact a bit. I suppose I was projecting things—imagining that it was happening to my dog. I’ve never left Coco for so long before or come so far away. And that Beagle I found looks almost exactly like her.” She sighed. “I was sort of daydreaming on the beach, imagining how wonderful it would have been to be able to bring Coco on vacation with me… but of course, I know the quarantine requirements would be crazy, especially for a short stay. Anyway, I looked up and saw this Beagle walking towards me across the sand and I thought for a moment that I was hallucinating.”
“He was lucky that you found him. Not just for the paw, but a lot longer in the sun and he could have become seriously dehydrated out on the beach.”
She looked at him curiously. “Do you have a dog?”
“I did, growing up. I had a mutt that was adopted from the local shelter. His name was Boomer. A sort of cattle dog cross. Nutty as a fruit bat but brilliant at rounding things up.” Craig shook his head, chuckling. “He lived to fifteen, which was a bloody good age. I’d love to have a dog now, but I work such long hours, it wouldn’t be fair.”
“Couldn’t you have the dog with you at the hospital?”
“Maybe,” said Craig. “But I don’t think Jandals, our resident clinic cat, would be very happy!”
Sara was about to reply when the food began to arrive and she soon stopped thinking about anything but eating all the delicious things placed in front of her. Craig had ordered crispy calam
ari to start, with chilli mayo and lemon wedges, accompanied by a platter of house-baked sourdough bread and a trio of dips. He had also ordered a bowl of marinated South Australian olives and a salad of butter lettuce, avocado, and cherry tomatoes, tossed in a balsamic vinegar dressing.
Then came the mains: Sara’s was pan-fried barramundi with grilled tiger prawns, roasted baby potatoes, and sautéed asparagus and zucchini. Craig had gone for the chargrilled rib-eye steak with red wine jus, sweet onion mash, and garlic mushrooms. There was also a bowl of “hand-cut chips” to share. By the time Sara raised her head from her empty plate, she could barely move.
“Oh my God…” She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “That was incredible. But I think I’m going to need a forklift to get me back to Ellie’s place.”
Craig laughed. “You haven’t even had dessert yet.”
“No… no dessert for me,” protested Sara. “Really, if I eat anything else, I’ll burst.”
“Okay, how about a coffee then?” Craig said, signalling to Kylie.
By the time the waitress had cleared the table and the coffees had arrived, Sara was feeling slightly less like a beached whale. She smiled at Kylie as the waitress placed a cappuccino in front of her.
“You want a bickie with that?” asked Kylie.
“Biscuit,” Craig explained at Sara’s quizzical look.
Before Sara could answer, Kylie went back to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a plate of dark brown rectangles.
“Here.” She pointed to the plate. “Got to try these. Can’t come to Oz and not have Tim Tams.”
“Oh, Tim Tams!” Sara cried in delight. “Yes, I bought a packet at the airport. The girl there was telling me what a… er… ‘Aussie’ classic they are.”
“Too right,” said Kylie, nodding. “And you’ve got to do the Tim Tam Slam.”
“The Tim Tam Slam?” Sara looked at her, bemused.
Craig was laughing openly now. He waved Kylie away. “I’ll show Sara how to do it.”
Once the waitress was gone, Sara turned to Craig expectantly. “Well?”
“You sure you want to do this?” He grinned.
Sara nodded.
“Okay, you bite a bit off diagonal ends of the biscuit and then you stick one end into your coffee and you suck it up through the biscuit, like a straw. As soon as you feel the liquid touch your lips, you flip the biscuit round and eat it in one mouthful.”
Sara looked at him. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” He shook his head, his blue eyes twinkling. “That’s the Tim Tam Slam. It’s practically a rite of passage for us Aussies.”
“Okay…” Sara returned his smile. “I’m game.”
She picked up one of the biscuits and carefully nibbled a bit off each end, diagonally. Then she leaned over her coffee cup and dunked the far end into the hot liquid. She pursed her lips around the end close to her and sucked as hard as she could. She could feel the chocolate coating around the biscuit melting under her fingers as the coffee worked its way up through the malted chocolate biscuit. Quickly, Sara pulled the biscuit up, flipped it around, and crammed it into her mouth. There was a burst of rich, chocolaty flavour in her mouth—hot, sweet, and melting—unlike anything she had tasted before. She swallowed it all, laughing and licking her fingers.
“Wow. That was… an experience,” she said, giggling.
“You’ve still got a bit of chocolate on your chin,” said Craig. He reached across the table and gently brushed the corner of her mouth.
Sara froze as she felt the slightly callused pad of his thumb touch the edge of her lips. A shiver of anticipation ran through her body. She stopped breathing. She felt his thumb caress her skin as he gently moved it in a wiping motion. There was something incredibly sexy and yet tender about the gesture. Without thinking, she parted her lips, touching his thumb with the tip of her tongue, and she saw his eyes darken as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
She didn’t know if he moved first or if she did, but suddenly they were both leaning across the table towards each other. Closer… and closer… and closer… Craig tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering mere inches from hers. Sara could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. It was as if her whole being had shrunk to a pinpoint of longing. All she wanted was to feel the touch of this man’s lips on hers, to know what it was like to be kissed by him…
Rrrrrrrring!
They sprang apart. Sara found herself breathing quickly. She eased back in her chair, trying to calm the racing of her heart as Craig pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and answered it. She watched his face change as he listened.
“Fine. Start him on a saline infusion. I’ll be right there.”
He looked at her apologetically as he slid the phone back into his pocket. “I’m sorry. It’s that puppy…”
“Go,” said Sara immediately. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a short walk back to Ellie’s.”
He looked torn. “I could walk you back quickly—”
“No,” said Sara. “You can’t waste any time. Don’t worry about me. Honestly, I live in L.A. I can handle walking through Summer Beach on a nice warm evening.” She gave him an ironic smile.
They both stood up from the table and faced each other.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. He hesitated and, for a moment, Sara thought he was going to lean towards her, but then he gave her a quick smile and headed towards the restaurant cashier.
Sara sank slowly back into her seat. She took her time drinking her coffee after Craig had gone, savouring the view of the beach from the terrace. The sky was inky black now, except for a pale moon hovering low on the horizon. Its silvery light was reflected on the surface of the sea, which looked deceptively calm from a distance.
Sara drew a deep breath, then released it in a sigh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. The whole evening had a dreamlike quality.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Would he? How many men had used that clichéd line carelessly with no intention of ever following up? No, thought Sara. Craig was different. There was a solid integrity to him that she had never felt with any of the men she had dated back in L.A. Certainly not with Jeff!
She smiled to herself as she looked out towards the ocean again. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
CHAPTER 9
“So how did dinner go with Craig last night?” Ellie asked as Sara shuffled into the kitchen the next morning.
Sara felt her cheeks reddening and cursed herself. If she was going to start blushing every time his name was mentioned, the whole town—no, the whole state of New South Wales—was going to know about her crush on the handsome vet soon.
“It went great,” she said as non-commitally as she could. “The food was fantastic. I had this white fish called barra… barra… barramundi, which was absolutely delicious. And I don’t know how they do their hand-cut chips, but they were amazing. Nothing like those processed fries we get back in the States; this tasted just like real, old-fashioned potato—”
“Sara! I’m not interested in a food review of their menu!” said Ellie with an exasperated laugh. “I want to know what happened with Craig.”
“Nothing happened!” said Sara. “I mean… I had a really nice time and he’s great company and… and he said he’d call me today…” She caught Ellie’s eye. “Okay, okay, I really like him, but…”
“But?”
Sara shrugged helplessly. “Well, I’m leaving to go back to the States in two weeks. This can’t go anywhere… Anyway, why are you so interested? I thought only last night you were warning me that it was too soon after what happened with Jeff and everything.”
“Yeah, well… I don’t know. It was different when I saw you together.” Her cousin looked at her thoughtfully. “You were sort of… glowing. I never saw you like that with a guy before. Not even Jeff when you first met him.”
Sara didn’t try to hide her blush this time. “
Craig is special.” She took a deep breath. “But like I said, it can’t really go anywhere.”
“Why not?”
“Ellie! I live on the other side of the world!”
“So? Move here.” Ellie tilted her chair back, a mischievous grin on her face.
“What? You want me to give up my life in L.A. and just move here?”
“I did.”
“But that’s different! You moved here for work reasons. I… I’d be moving here for a guy. I’ve been stupid about a guy before. I’m not making that same mistake again.”
Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Different guy. Very different guy. Come on… you’re always telling me how much you wish you could escape sometimes, to go live in another culture, another country. You don’t really enjoy your job, you don’t like the L.A. scene so… what have you got to lose?”
“What about Coco?”
Ellie waved her hands. “A bit of quarantine won’t kill her. She’d love the lifestyle here—she’d have so much more space to run around in, beautiful beaches to walk on… and you’d have so much more time for her too. The work hours here are a joke compared to the States.”
Sara looked at her cousin in surprise. “How come you’re suddenly so keen for me to move over?”
“Well, selfishly, I’d really like you to be closer. I miss hanging out together. And you’re a much better cook than I am, so if you lived here I could scrounge leftovers from you all the time.” Ellie grinned. “But seriously, I do think if you’ve met someone special… well, you’d be stupid not to grab it with both hands.”
“Yeah, you’re a good one to talk,” said Sara dryly. “I can’t believe you are giving me advice on my love life.”
“Hey, I’ve met my special someone,” said Ellie chuckling. “His first name is Microsoft and his last name is PowerPoint.”
Sara rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, think about it,” said Ellie, getting up and putting her empty mug in the sink. “You know you can stay with me as long as you like. Even if you decide to get your own place eventually or whatever, you won’t have to worry about somewhere to stay when you first come.”
