Another Summer (4 page)

Joe had told her she was pretty and Evie had been so thrilled she’d let him trade on it ever since.  How had she never realised that before?  She’d had her share of other male attention over the years.  She was thirty, of course she had.  But she’d never looked twice at anyone since Joe.  Until now.

She’d been worried Jake wouldn’t show up and terrified he would.  Then suddenly there he was, looking gorgeous.  And very young.  He wore a soft black shirt, loose over jeans and hardly buttoned.  He had a leather jacket scrunched in one fist and a supermarket bag in the other.  Her pulse was racing, she had to get a grip.  It couldn’t be normal to jump in so deep at the first hint of a kind word.

“Was that a motorbike I heard?”

“I borrowed it from a mate for a couple of days.  Had to walk home last night when I didn’t get a shag.”

He raised a cocky eyebrow.  He couldn’t be expecting an apology?  She pulled back the door to let him in, hoping he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was.  But he was too busy checking out her legs.

She’d agonised over what to wear, reluctant to look like she was trying too hard for an afternoon in the garden.  She’d finally settled on khaki shorts and a green linen tank but wondered now if he’d think bare limbs were too encouraging.

He dumped a bottle of wine and a six pack of lager onto the wooden drainer.  Who did he think was going to drink all that?  Certainly not her, if she wanted to keep her wits about her.

“Food smells great.  What is it, chicken?”

“With honey and mustard sauce,” she told him as he dipped his finger into the pan and nodded in approval.

Evie was confident about cooking.  She liked good ingredients kept simple and luckily she’d stocked up with a few things yesterday in the village.  But she’d never cooked a meal for a guy who was so much younger and  virtually a stranger.  What on earth was she thinking?

“Is there time to get the tour before we eat?”

Relieved that she didn’t have to sit down with him yet, she turned off the gas.  But he surprised her by taking her hand, his loose cuff tickling her wrist as they went out into the sun drenched garden.

Too aware of her hip brushing the warmth of his thigh, she showed him round the borders that were all   choked with nettles and weeds.  They stopped at the gate, jammed open by dandelions and thistles, trampled flat by her feet that morning.

“Bit wild, isn’t it?  What’s through here?”

“It’s the path down to the beach.  I had a swim earlier to wake me up.  I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Dreaming about me?”

“It was the wine,” she insisted.  “I’m not used to drinking so much.”

“Lightweight!” he teased.  “And now you’re wanting to use me for hard labour?  I hope your cooking’s up to it.  Shall we go and find out?”

He definitely enjoyed her lunch and she enjoyed the flash of toned abs when he leaned back in his chair, arms stretched above his head.  He was such a blatant show-off, he knew exactly what he was doing.  Yet she still wanted to brush her fingers over that tanned strip above his belt.

“That was way better than my old man’s usual stew,” he said, finally putting down his knife and fork.  “He makes these huge pots of the stuff that last us a week at a time.  He just keeps tossing in all sorts to keep it going.  Best not to ask too many questions.”

He filled up her glass yet again.  She’d lost count already, despite her resolution to stay sober.  But she didn’t want to think too much about what she was doing, barely a day after her meltdown.

“You live with your father?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, not very rock and roll, is it?  But we rub along okay.”

“Mine died last year.  I don’t think I appreciated him properly until it was too late to tell him.”

“Sounds like you’ve been having your share of shit?  And now you’re hiding in your grandmother’s cottage, looking for answers?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”  She got up to make coffee, aware of his eyes sweeping down her back.  “My family want to sell.  Everyone’s putting pressure on me to agree.”

“You’d probably make a killing.  Our place belonged to my great-grandfather.  But fishermens’ cottages are fashionable now and people are selling them off to incomers for holiday homes.  Sticks in the throat a bit that the locals can’t afford them.”

“I don’t want this place to be sold off.  I think it should be passed down to Claire.  And my sister’s kids if she ever has any.”

“What for?  Seaside holidays?  It’s not like you’ll be moving in.  A townie like you?  You’ll be driving back up north in your executive Beemer as soon as you start missing your home comforts.”

“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”

“Still hedging your bets?  Is this where you tell me it’s none of my business?”

She saw he was teasing and tried to match his tone.   “You’re only here because I need someone to tidy up the garden.”

“Do I get anything else before I start?”

“Cheese,” she said firmly.  “And coffee if you’re good.”

“I’m always good.”

She didn’t doubt it.  But she had to stop thinking about it.  She put down the platter and threw a grape at him.  He caught it and popped it into his mouth like a trophy.  He rocked back in the chair, his dark eyes twinkling with a definite challenge.

“There’s crap to sort out with your husband, I get that.  But you need reminding how to enjoy yourself.  I’ve got a week to kill and I totally fancy you so what are you scared of?” 

“Who says I’m scared?”

“So, you’re up for going with the flow?”

He hacked off some cheese and flipped it casually onto a cracker.  She wished he hadn’t mentioned her husband.  She didn’t want to start wondering if Joe was missing her.  Or how often he’d turn down the offer of unconditional fun.

“You remember sex, right?”

She was too sleep-deprived to think straight but if she’d been in any danger of confusing sex and romance, he was making it pretty clear.  So, why wasn’t she telling him to go?

Jake reached across the table and took her hand.  She knew it was corny but she flipped inside, a bubble of heat rushing to her cheeks at the touch of his warm lips on her fingers.  Maybe he was only killing time but he seemed to have unlocked something she hadn’t even realised had been slammed shut.

But, as tempted as she was, wasn’t it all just a little bit rushed?  She never behaved like this.  She  moved her hand and got up to clear the table.  

“What about the garden?” 

“You want sex in the garden?”

“I want to work in the garden.  Are you always this full-on?”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

But he took off his shirt and got stuck in, his effort making up for his lack of skill.  He hacked at the grass with a strimmer and made mincemeat of the straggling escallonia, tossing the branches onto the grass.  Evie raked them into a heap, trying not to be distracted by the sight of him at work.  Silly to be so mesmerised by somebody’s naked back, even with all those taut muscles glistening in the sunshine.

“Careful you don’t burn.”

“You can rub some stuff on me.  And another of those lagers would be great.  If you get me too drunk to drive the bike, I’ll just have to bunk in with you.”

He winked at her, half joking half challenging again.  Ridiculously flustered, she escaped inside for the beer and her new tube of sunscreen.  When she came back, he was straddling the chair he’d been standing on.  He took a long swig then offered the bottle to her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

She didn’t even like lager but she took it anyway, unable to resist putting her lips to the spot where his had just been.

“So, the cream?  Before I burn to a crisp.”

She gave him the tube and he covered his chest then passed it to her to do his back.  She hesitated.  It seemed very intimate to touch him like that.  But she managed to squeeze out the cream and rub it onto his hard shoulders and down across his back.  

“Now you.  Turn around.”

She tanned easily and didn’t need more cream but she let him do it, watching his hands slip over her shoulders and down the length of her arms.  As the silver ball on its leather thong flicked across the hot skin of her back, she shivered.

“My hands cold?”

She shook her head, feeling silly to be so disconcerted when he’d barely touched her.

“What, then?  I do get it, you know.”

“Get what?”

He turned her round again to face him, his thumbs caressing her collarbone as if he didn’t even know he was doing it.  She didn’t know how to deal with how he was making her feel.

“You’re married and you don’t seem the type to play away.  I think you’re nervous but a bit of you is dying to get back at the bastard who hurt you.”

“What are you, a mind reader?”

He picked up his beer from the grass and took a swig.  “Like I said, I get it.”

“So, what’s in it for you?”

“Maybe I like gardening?”

“Not funny!  You must know plenty of girls your own age.  Why are you wasting your time with me?”

He wound her hair round his finger and tucked it behind her ear.  His hand trailed down her cheek, then circled her mouth, slowly, barely touching yet enough to make her shiver.

“If I’m wasting my time, just say the word and I’ll go.”

“I think you should do that.”

“Do what?”

He was kissing her now, tiny dots of persuasion from her jaw to the very corner of her mouth.

“Go.”

But he heard the sigh of pleasure despite the way she fought it.  He drew her in, his hands on her back holding her tight against him.  He tasted of lager, his lips working her mouth in a slow kiss which teased out the exact reaction he’d expected.  

“See,” he grinned.  “Maybe I can read your mind.  But don’t take too long catching up.  I’m not that patient.”

What could she say?  It wasn’t the way she normally behaved but look where that had got her.  Jake had her weak at the knees but he’d already picked up the shears and was back at the hedge as if nothing had even happened.

It was impossible to concentrate.  She couldn’t think of anything but what would happen next.  Was she really going to sleep with him?  Should she wait?  What was it about him that had her in such a state so quickly?  She didn’t recognise herself.

After a while, he dropped the shears beside the other tools and stretched his arms above his head.

“I’ve got cricks in muscles I never knew I had.”

“You should have a hot bath.”

“With you?”

He grinned, clearly liking the idea although that hadn’t been what she’d meant.  But he was picking up his shirt from the grass and she realised he was leaving.

“I can do more of this some other time.  But I have to meet the guys now for a rehearsal.  We’ve got a gig tomorrow night.  Last one before Ibiza.”

“Well, thanks for all your help,” she managed, embarrassed by her disappointment.  “Good luck with the gig.”

“Should be a good turn-out.  Why don’t you come?”

“Me?”

“Too old for gigs?”

“Funny!”  She didn’t want to admit to how many years it had been since her last one.

“Cool!  We’re on at nine.  You can give me a lift home.  The Old Crown along the coast?  You know it?”

She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak as he brushed his lips across her cheek and headed for the bike.  The Old Crown?  Of all the places his band could be playing.  She could hardly tell him it was the very place she’d stayed with Joe on their honeymoon.

If he’d thought about it at all, Joe would probably have said Steve was his best mate at uni.  Of course he knew Steve’s family owned the flat in York but it had never occurred to him that the Drydens were so fucking loaded.

The house on the rugged north coast of Cornwall was a faded Victorian mansion stuffed with heirloom furniture and an oppressive sense of history.  Joe felt way out of his depth.  The food was great, though.  Especially breakfast where you could rummage around the kitchen and help yourself without any need for polite conversation.

When Steve came back from his wedding suit fitting, looking all preppy in chinos and proper shoes, Joe was tucking into bacon and eggs.  He couldn’t resist bragging a bit about Evie.

“You having a laugh?  She’s all legs and teeth!”

“Not what I was looking at, mate.”

“Straight up?  She must’ve grown up a bit since last summer.  If her sister isn’t here, you think she’s worth a crack?”

Joe had never fancied a virgin before but the sight of Evie squeezed into that schoolgirl swimsuit had given him a hard-on.  His balls were still aching.  But he wasn’t about to admit that to Steve.

“Why not?” he shrugged, swiping a sausage from the tray Steve was bringing from the Aga.  “At least there’ll be no husband to catch us at it during the lunchtime rush.”

“What, you mean Glenda?  You weren’t giving her one in the actual bar?”

“We were upstairs,” Joe laughed.  “Even Glenda’s not that wild.”

“But her old man caught you at it?  Jesus!  He’s a big bloke, even for a landlord.”

“Why do you think I legged it down here at the last minute?  Means I’ll have to get another job next term, though.  Doubt he’d have me back behind his bar.”

“There’s bound to be other landladies up for a bit of rough.  You’ve got that angle well covered.  In the meantime, I’m having first crack at young Evie.  She’ll be at the party on Saturday, suitably grateful for the invite.”

Joe bristled.  Best mate or not, Steve had been getting right up his nose.  Flashing his cash and acting all superior with the talent in the village.  Making proper coffee in a machine when they made do with teabags at the flat.  And now he was assuming he’d get Evie just by snapping his rich little fingers and Joe wouldn’t have a chance.

Joe wasn’t having that.  He might be the penniless student but he wasn’t the tosser in the room.  He’d spotted Evie first and he knew exactly where to bump into her again.  He wouldn’t have to wait until Saturday night to get one over on Steve.

Joe had never been on a beach at seven o’clock in the morning, unless he was still partying from the night before.  The sun was barely warm but he gritted his teeth and arranged himself on a rock in his sawn-off jeans, practising his lucky grin.

When Evie stopped in front of him, she didn’t seem  exactly thrilled to see him but it gave him a great view of her too-tight swimsuit.  Her nipples were poking through the fabric and he needed a cough to keep his voice controlled and casual.

“I was wondering if you fancied some company when you went for your swim?”

She shrugged, not saying one way or the other but he took it as a good sign when he noticed she was blushing.  He let her go first, assuming she’d be impressed by what she’d think were his good manners.  But he really just wanted to clock her bum as she walked down the slope to the sea.

The suit rode up between her cheeks and she kept brushing her thighs as if she wanted to tug it down, but didn’t want to draw attention to it.  He had to run into the sea before she could spot the obvious bulge in his shorts.

The water was freezing but Evie didn’t even flinch and he had to go flat out to keep up with her.  When she’d finally had enough, he staggered out after her and sprawled on the sand, an arm across his eyes to block out the morning sun as he tried to get his breath back.

“And you do this for fun?”

She laughed as she sat down beside him, her hair escaping from her untidy plait as she dried her face and arms on the towel she’d had the good sense to bring down with her.  She passed it to him and he grasped the chance to hide his face.  In a minute he’d be panting.  She was gorgeous.

“I used to swim for my school until I gave it up this year.  Exams, you know how it is?”

He nodded but he wasn’t really listening as she leaned back on her hands and closed her eyes, her face tilted up to the sun.  The wet navy fabric clung to her curves, hardly containing her breasts.  She was oblivious to his hard-on.

He shuffled onto his side, propping up his chin with an elbow wedged in the sand.  It was ages since he’d fancied anyone so much.  Usually, as Steve had been so quick to point out, he had a queue of obvious older women who were up for it, so he never had to try too hard.  A virgin was something else.

“Don’t you just love the early morning sun?”

He didn’t remember ever noticing it and he wasn’t about to start now, not when he had a half naked Evie to look at.  She’d crossed her endless legs at the ankles.  They were dry now, except for a few drops on the inside of her thigh.  He wanted to wipe his finger down her skin but thought that might be pushing his luck.

A strap slid down her arm, like a test.  Her eyes were closed and he did think twice about it.  But the chance to touch her was too good to give up and he eased it back into place, keeping his thumb hooked in her strap, half expecting her to slap him. 

“You’re so hot.  I mean pretty.  So pretty.”

“Am I?”

She might be shy but she wasn’t moving his hand, so close now to the swell of those amazing breasts.  He wanted to tug down her suit and feel the weight of them, taste the nipples he could almost see.  His blood had turned to liquid fire but he knew he’d have to be careful.  She wouldn’t be used to horny bastards like him.

A wet curl had stuck to her face and he tucked it behind her ear.  He kissed her, making himself go gently, almost killing himself to keep it safe like that.  She broke away and sat up, hiding her face in her shoulder.  Shit!  Had he ruined it?  Treading nicely had never been Joe’s style.  He’d have coped better with a slap.

“Sorry, Evie.  Couldn’t help it.”

“No, it was nice.  I think.”

“Thanks.  I think.”

He wanted to kiss her again but all that blushing was making him nervous.  Nervous?  For fuck’s sake!  How hard could it be to a kiss a girl?  Maybe he’d better try talking to her, before he scared her away and scuppered his chances for good.

“Steve says you’ll be at the party on Saturday night?”

“I’d like to go but I don’t have anything to wear.”

“What is it with women and clothes?  I’ve four older sisters and I’ve been hearing that since I was born.  I’m sure you’ll look great in whatever you wear.”

“You think so?  Old shorts and washed-out tops?  I really don’t have a thing that’s posh enough for a party at the Drydens’ and I wouldn’t know where to start without Vanessa to come shopping with me.”

She was making him wonder what he was going to wear.  He hadn’t given it a thought but he’d only brought stuff like jeans.  Bloody hell!  How sick was he of being treated like the poor relation?  The sooner he got away from this place the better.  But in the meantime, Evie was really getting to him and he was feeling even more that he had something he had to prove.

They chatted a bit more and when he couldn’t resist it any longer, he eased her back onto the sand for a long production of a kiss which teased her into responding, his thumbs drawing circles on her waist until her hands crept shyly round his neck.

That tell-tale intake of breath was always such a turn-on and when he heard it, he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her.  But not quite yet.  He wanted to play a bit longer, certain she’d be worth the wait.  He blew gently on her neck in an attempt to get his own breath back.

“That was some kiss.  Who’s the lucky guy you’ve been practising on?”

“Nobody, never!”

Jesus!  Did she think he was insulting her?  He’d never considered he’d be her first actual kiss.  She really had no idea what she was capable of doing to him. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunshine, threatening to dazzle him.  He couldn’t remember any of his usual lines.  He sat up and grabbed her towel.

“What’s wrong?  Did I do something?”

“Of course not.  I was only teasing.  But we should think about getting dressed.  I’m hungry.”

She was biting her lip, looking uncertain.  He kissed the end of her nose, trying to be reassuring but  not trusting himself to touch her anywhere else.  He clutched her towel in a strategic bundle in his lap, not sure how he was going to stand up without terrifying her with his inconvenient erection.

“Maybe I could take you shopping?”

“You?  Why would you want to do that?”

He’d offered before he’d even thought about it.  The way she was sitting there on the verge of tears had turned him soft in the head.  But getting into her good books would be no bad thing.

“Why not?  I need to buy a shirt or something and it means I’d get to spend a whole day with you.”

“Really?  You’d do that?  I think we’d have to go to Porthrynton Heath.  Penwarren’s shops are hopeless unless you want postcards and souvenirs.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.  How about tomorrow?  I could cadge Steve’s car and pick you up?”

“Better not.  I don’t want to have to explain where I’m going to Granny Barbara.”

As she stood up, he got up with her and decided he could risk letting go of the towel to drape it round her shoulders.

“Your grandmother objects to you going shopping?”

“I think she’d object to you.”

He had to laugh.  “Story of my life.  So, where should I meet you?”

“The clock tower in the square?  Eleven thirty?”

Before he could tell her he didn’t have a clue how to find the place, she was off, scampering up the rickety steps as if she’d know them blindfolded.  He watched her, feeling more than a bit bemused.  Whatever had just happened, it had better be worth it.  He’d never had to work so hard for a shag.