Spring Tides at Swallowtail Bay: The perfect laugh out loud escapist romantic comedy for summer! (Swallowtail Bay, Book 1)

by Katie Ginger

  ‘I’m away again next week from Tuesday. I’m back up north. A couple of the companies loved my pitches. I think I’m quite close to sealing the deal.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Kiera with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever and silence descended.

  Miles spread his smoked mackerel pâté onto a piece of warm, freshly made bread, savouring the enticing aromas, and popped it into his mouth. However good the Langdon Mansion Hotel was, he couldn’t imagine it making anything better than this. The smoky taste tingled his taste buds and the warm, soft bread was deliciously chewy. But as soon as he swallowed, his mind kept wandering to the woman before him. The woman he felt he’d never known before.

  How could someone have changed so much in such a short amount of time? Or had she always been like this and he’d never noticed? Hopefully it was just wedding stress and once they were married he’d have back the woman he fell in love with. When they’d first got together she was a strange mixture of confidence and vulnerability. Those flashes of insecurity had spoken to his protective side but, somewhere along the line, they’d diminished and now there were times when her self-confidence bordered on arrogance.

  Miles shook his head, admonishing himself for thinking such things about the woman he loved, the woman he was about to marry. But it had left him with another disconcerting question floating around his already crowded and confused mind. One that he suspected he already knew the answer to: had he changed that way too?

  Chapter 16

  After a wonderful evening spent at Lexi’s, Stella approached the door to the shop, fumbling in her pocket for her keys. She suddenly realised how tired and squiffy she was and told herself off for not having more control. And she wasn’t just physically tired, she was tired of being on her own. More than anything she wanted to be held by someone who cared about her.

  A sudden surge in her heart made her glimpse at Miles’s window. A light was on, but she didn’t see anyone. Not that she wanted to be held by him. She had no idea why her head had turned his way. But thinking back to what Lexi had said about him and Vivien, could it be there was a loyalty somewhere within him under that harsh exterior? Most teenage boys wouldn’t be seen dead with an old lady and that he was still friends with her now showed an unusual level of devotion. She still couldn’t figure him out though and all that Jay had told her weighed heavily on her mind. Maybe it was the idea of loyalty or faithfulness she craved right now. Though Jay had many positives, perhaps that had been lacking and that was why she hadn’t connected with him enough to sleep with him. Frank pulled at his lead and Stella shivered in the cold, clear night.

  As she drew her eyes down from gazing at the stars, she noticed there was a single red rose taped to the door along with a note. It was a poem. A terrible poem left by Carter. Thankfully, not his usual fare of post-apocalyptic lizard men and the end of the human race, but a love poem full of emotion and romantic notions. Stella giggled as she read it. He really should stick to writing about miserable things, but she appreciated the sentiment. And there were one or two phrases that caught her eye. The poem was about a hard-working woman whom he referred to as the ‘beautiful creature’, or ‘Aphrodite’ and amongst the drivel – phrases like, ‘My heart is overflowing with love, you fit me like a hand in a glove,’ – the way he described the woman’s heart and soul was quite touching.

  Stella’s hand flew to her heart as she read it in the lamplight, realising it was about her. The coffee-coloured hair and brown eyes told her so. But in amongst the terrible rhymes he described her as having a gentle soul, a heart begging to be given to others and a spirit that called to the wounded. Stella held the single, perfect red rose. You had to admire the effort.

  This was the poem he had tried to show her earlier, Stella realised with a stab of guilt, then a warm, fuzzy feeling grew inside at the idea of someone being so in love with her they wrote her poetry. No one had ever done that for her before. A strange longing for strong arms around her began to build. For someone to kiss her and make her feel like a woman again. Sometimes she felt so much like a robot it was scary. And Carter wasn’t unattractive. Lexi and Vivien had said he was handsome, and now she pictured his face she could see it too. Stella hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want things to end up the way they had with Jay. But would they?

  The problem with Jay was that he was so good-looking it was intimidating. She’d felt at such a disadvantage to him, like she wasn’t on a level playing field. He’d been in charge and that had made her feel weak and vulnerable. But did she feel like that now? No, she didn’t. It wasn’t that she felt Carter was beneath her or anything so pompous. It was more that she felt equal to him and picturing his face in her mind she realised how harshly she’d judged him.

  A light was still on in the apartment and Stella hoped for a glimpse of him. She spotted him at the window and he looked back at her warmly. If she knocked on that door she knew what would happen, but the thought of it didn’t fill her with fear as it had with Jay. Something stirred. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time: a yearning, and a readiness to let feelings back in she’d kept at bay. Taking Frank through to the flat, she popped him into her bed before heading back outside.

  Somehow she knew that Carter would be a gentle and caring lover, which was what she wanted right now. It had been a very, very long time since she’d spent the night with anyone, and he would hold her close and encircle her with his arms, chasing the loneliness away. Stella closed the shop door behind her and carried on without looking back. With each step her heart raced faster and her stomach knotted with anticipation. Her hand hesitated at the door to the apartment, and she took a deep breath before knocking.

  Carter opened, wearing a plain white T-shirt and grey jogging bottoms. His hair was ruffled and messy and he stood back, his smile one of surprise but still gentle and welcoming. Stella stumbled over her words still clutching his poem and the rose. ‘Umm, thanks for the poem. It’s umm … it’s very nice of you.’

  ‘Did you like it?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Very much. No one’s ever written me a poem before.’

  He opened the door a little wider. ‘Did you want to come in? I just opened the Baileys hoping you’d knock.’

  Baileys? The idea of him running to the fridge and opening a bottle of Irish cream liqueur made her want to giggle. It wasn’t exactly champagne on ice, but luckily, she quite liked Baileys. She thought about it for a moment, making doubly sure she was ready. His meaning was clear – her meaning was clear. What else would she be doing knocking on his door in the middle of the night? And he was leaving on Monday. Stella knew that unlike with Jay, she really wanted this and after swallowing down her nerves amid rising anticipation, she answered, ‘Yes, please.’

  And the door closed behind her.

  ***

  A bright light shone in Stella’s eyes and she opened them slowly. She was still in Carter’s bed and he was fast asleep next to her. Rose petals covered the floor where he’d sprinkled them over the bed and she spotted one out of the corner of her eye, dangling from her hair. She hoped there weren’t any stuck to her bum. A bubble of excitement then fear churned in her stomach. A part of her wanted to stay there. The night had been wonderful, if a little over-the-top romantic with lit candles and piano music playing. She’d forgotten how enjoyable sex could be and she’d missed feeling that physically close to someone. She wondered if he might accompany her to Isaac’s wedding, but she didn’t have time to ponder the thought any further; she had to go and walk Frank. The poor thing would be wondering where she was. In fact, she could hear him barking.

  Stella grabbed her underwear from the floor next to the bed, shaking out even more rose petals from her bra, and tried putting it on without getting out from under the covers or waking Carter. She hadn’t missed the awkward morning-after moments. Finding her jeans and T-shirt she pulled them on and carried her shoes to the door. Carter never stirred as she slipped outside, but there seemed to be an unspoken understanding of each othe
r’s expectations. A beautiful day had dawned, she noticed as she walked out into the street. The sun blinded her and she shielded her eyes against it.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ said a male voice. She turned to see Miles. His eyes were narrowed and Stella was unsure if it was caused by the bright morning sun or if he was being his normal judgemental self. ‘Did you know your dog’s been barking for the last half an hour?’

  ‘Really? I didn’t realise it was that long.’ Poor Frank. Another petal fell from the back of her head and floated on the gentle breeze down to the ground. Stella watched it, as did Miles with wide surprised eyes. Clearing her throat, she edged around him and unlocked the shop.

  The door connecting the shop and the entrance hall of the flat was closed but Stella could hear Frank on the other side barking and scratching to get out. ‘Hello, darling,’ Stella said, opening the door. Frank waddled towards her, his tail wagging so much he did a strange sideways shuffle. He jumped up and began licking her outstretched hand. ‘Hello, my boy. Here I am.’ Miles was still watching her from the shop door. ‘Did you want something?’ Stella asked. If he was going to start moaning at her about the noise Frank had made she’d have to try very hard to keep her temper. Her mouth felt like someone had thrown sawdust in it and her head was thumping. She’d enjoyed the sex last night but a part of her felt like some sleep would have been a better choice. And she’d definitely drunk too much Baileys.

  ‘I was just seeing if everything was okay. I didn’t know if something had happened to you or Frank – you don’t normally leave him on his own.’

  Stella paused. ‘Really?’

  A faint smile spread over his mouth and he put his hands in his pockets. ‘Yes. Is that so hard to believe?’

  All the emotions of last night had left her exhausted and tetchy and the answer was yes, she did find it hard to believe. ‘You don’t even like my dog,’ she replied cautiously. She didn’t bother to add, ‘Or me’. At her tone his eyes shot to the floor and then back up to meet hers. Her embarrassment at being caught scampering out of Carter’s flat made his unexpected concern even more off-putting. ‘Well, good morning,’ she said, and walked to the shop door. She had no idea why she’d said good morning like a Victorian maiden aunt. It made her sound like an idiot but she couldn’t think of anything else without a bucket load of coffee.

  Miles peered at her through the glass for a second, then walked off back towards his house.

  Stella had no idea what to make of that strange exchange and as Frank pawed at her leg she turned her attention to him instead, thankful that dogs were much easier to read than men.

  Chapter 17

  Just under a week later, Miles stood at the bar on the busy Saturday night waiting to be served. He’d been coming to The Chain and Anchor ever since he was old enough to drink. Younger actually. There might have been a few sneaky underage pints when he was at grammar school. It was a wonder he ever got served with all the acne he’d had. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the memory. The few friends he’d had didn’t tease him, but Jay Adams – captain of the local football team – had, and it had affected his self-confidence. In fact, it had destroyed it. Miles raised his hand and rubbed his chin. Most of the scars had faded but there were one or two he never failed to notice when he was shaving. The emotional scars had lasted far longer.

  Jay had always made sure Miles felt small, colluding with his mates so Miles was the last one picked at football. He had never felt good enough. All he’d wanted back then was to be liked by the cool kids. Cool kids like Jay. A memory he’d kept pushed down made its way to the surface: a recollection of Jay asking him to join him and his mates on a night out. Miles, with his unworldly misplaced trust, had thought things were finally looking up, that they were seeing past all the things he couldn’t do and getting to know the real him. But of course he was wrong. When he’d met them that night they’d belittled him, called him repellent, told him he should wear a bag over his head, then wedgied him. He hadn’t gone back to football after that.

  When years later he’d met Kiera and she’d been interested in him, he couldn’t have felt further from the teenage loser he’d been back then. Glancing at her now, he noticed her long soft hair was gently curling about her shoulders and she looked cute pouting as she redid her lipstick, but he couldn’t stop the niggling feeling that something wasn’t right anymore.

  A rising doubt kept popping up even though he repeatedly pushed it down and did his best to ignore it. His brain wasn’t helping because if it wasn’t thinking about Kiera, it was thinking about Stella and when he did, an emotion he couldn’t quite identify niggled at the back of his mind. For some reason, an image of Stella kept appearing when he least expected it. And now, thanks to Jay, memories he didn’t want to think or feel again were resurfacing too.

  ‘What can I get ya, mate?’ asked the young barman.

  Miles was taken by surprise by his bright blue hair and decided he was getting old. This guy didn’t look old enough to have left school let alone have a job. ‘I’ll have a pint of Shin Splints and a large Chardonnay, please.’ The barman nodded and began preparing their drinks. Miles reached in his back pocket for his wallet and as he turned, caught sight of Jay in the corner. Suddenly it was like he was fifteen again and he felt exactly the same way he had that night. Miles tried to shrug it off, reminding himself he was a grown, successful man now, and no longer a loser. But he still didn’t trust Jay even after all these years.

  Kiera denied it, but Miles was sure Jay had made a play for her when they’d been working together on her website. The thought had flashed up again the other night at the restaurant when Jay had tapped on the window. He’d always enjoyed stealing Miles’s girlfriends on the very odd occasion he’d got one while his face was covered in spots. And there was still something sly about him Miles didn’t like. Jay’s voice, fuelled by the empty pint glasses in front of him, rose above the din.

  ‘So there we were, me doing my thing, sorting out her website and, well you know what happened next.’ He gave a self-satisfied laugh. His friends guffawed along with him. ‘I know a gentleman should never kiss and tell but, mate, let me tell you, she might have been out of practice, but she was more than willing to learn.’

  Miles wrinkled his nose in disgust as the other men at the table jeered and laughed. The man was a pig, and so were his idiotic friends. All of them still like a bunch of horny teenagers. He felt sorry for whoever they were laughing at. Jay had always been too smooth and Miles had no idea how the women of Swallowtail Bay hadn’t figured him out by now. One of Jay’s friends, a guy Miles had known from football, stood and collected their pint glasses. ‘But she’s only been here a couple of months. That’s fast work, innit?’

  Miles felt a prickle of tension grab the back of his neck. Stella had only been here a couple of months and Kiera had given her Jay’s card. Jay raised his annoyingly chiselled jaw and shrugged. ‘Honestly, mate, she was well up for it.’

  ‘All part of the service, hey?’ The man walked over and waited beside Miles at the bar. ‘All right, Miles? How ya doing?’

  Not for the life of him could Miles remember the guy’s name. He’d have to bluff it out. ‘I’m all right, mate, cheers. You?’ The guy put down the glasses and shook Miles’s hand.

  Another surge of laughter came from the corner and the man looked over and back to Miles. ‘You know Jay, don’t ya? He did your website, didn’t he?’

  ‘Not mine, but my fiancée’s.’

  ‘D’ya know, that man gets more sex than any other bloke I know. Who’d have thought being a website designer got you laid, hey?’ Miles gave a small nod, wishing the man would stop talking. ‘He’s just done the website for that bird who bought old Herbert’s shop and she jumped into bed with him the first chance she got! Women, hey?’

  So he had been talking about Stella. Miles could feel his features tighten as he struggled to understand why he was so bothered by it. The guy must have seen something in the unspoken response
as he said, ‘Oh, sorry, mate. You were after that shop, weren’t ya?’

  Anger began to rise up in Miles’s body. Every fibre of muscle and sinew was on fire and the back of his neck grew hot. ‘I was interested for a while but it didn’t work out.’

  The man grabbed his shoulder in a giant hand and squeezed. ‘That’s shit. Never mind though, mate. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that. Plenty more shops on the high street.’ He laughed at his own joke.

  Miles gave him a polite smile but couldn’t get away quick enough. ‘My fiancée’s over there so I’d better get back to her. Nice to see you again.’ He picked up the drinks and stalked off to Kiera and their quiet seat in the corner. The pub was busy and he had to wind his way through the crowd. The fire in his stomach bubbled away and rose into his chest to set his lungs alight.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Kiera in an amused voice. She took her drink from him and had a dainty sip. ‘You look cross. What did that man say?’

  Miles took a big mouthful of his drink and tried to figure out exactly what was going through his brain. He was normally a clear-headed, logical thinker, but a great mishmash of emotions surged through him, fogging his mind. Why was he so angry? It wasn’t that he was attracted to Stella and jealous, but for some reason an image of her gathered in his mind’s eye. It was her face the moment they’d connected over the beautiful painting. Her deep brownish-red eyes, her light brown hair and her perfect peaches-and-cream skin.

  Vivien had told him Stella’s story one day in the café and there’d been something about her bravery he approved of. The old girl had too. He took a sip of his drink. Jay Adams? He hadn’t thought Stella the type of woman to be so easily flattered and easily tempted. Lexi had said she was lonely but she seemed too cheerful for that. And how did everyone think what Jay was doing was okay? Sitting there telling the pub about his private life like love was some sort of competition. It beggared belief.