Page 31 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

Thomas’ cottage was at the opposite end of the village to Lena’s and as they walked there, she looked around at the narrow streets and pretty cottages, at the hanging baskets and window boxes filled with colourful flowers. There were signs everywhere that this was a fishing village, like the nets attached to fronts of cottages and the shells displayed in borders and on windowsills. One small front garden had a display of floats and fishing traps in the centre of the lawn with colourful flowers blooming around them. Some of the cottages had dates carved into the lintels over the front doors that dated back hundreds of years. It made goosebumps break out on Lena’s skin to think about how old this village was and how much history surrounded her.

They stopped in front of a pretty stone cottage with hanging baskets either side of the door filled with trailing roses and bright yellow and orange geraniums. It had a clear view of the harbour and the beach beyond it. Thomas got a key out of his rucksack and let them inside.

The hallway was cool and shadowy and smelt of cedarwood and cinnamon, of coffee and woodsmoke. The floorboards were bareand the doors that led to the lounge and kitchen were made of dark wood with high latches.

‘Quick tour?’ he asked as he set his rucksack down on a bench in the hallway then removed his trainers. Lena slid her trainers off too and found that the old wooden boards were warm beneath her soles. Fifi jogged off to the back of the cottage and went through a doorway then Lena heard her drinking from what she assumed was her bowl.

‘That would be great.’

‘This is the lounge,’ he said as they turned through a door to their right. The room was cosy with a two-seater sofa in front of the window that overlooked the front garden, a large armchair near the fireplace and a flatscreen TV on a stand in the corner near the door. There was also a bookshelf to the right of the door and Lena glanced at it to see what Thomas enjoyed reading. ‘I have an e-reader too,’ he said with a grin. ‘Most of my books are stored on that as the cottage isn’t big enough to accommodate many books.’

‘You like reading then?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t when I was at school. Not at all. But when I was in the hospital, the volunteers used to bring a library cart around and I was so bored I decided to try a book. It was a thriller, and I got really into it so I tried another one. Before long I’d read everything they had, so Marnie got me an e-reader and downloaded lots of books on it for me. I haven’t stopped reading since.’

‘That’s good to hear. We can swap book recommendations.’ She loved it when men enjoyed reading as much as she did. There was something so attractive about a man who liked books.

‘Perhaps you’ll let me read your book.’ He grinned.

Her stomach flipped over. ‘The thought of anyone reading it makes me feel sick right now. What if it’s utter rubbish?’

‘Lena,’ he said, placing a large hand on her arm and sending delicious shockwaves of electricity throughout her body. ‘I very much doubt anything about you could be rubbish.’

He slid his hand up to her shoulder and she could feel the heat of his palm through her thin T-shirt. Her bikini was still damp and she felt suddenly aware of everything that touched her skin, of the rise and fall of her chest and of how good Thomas smelt — like the sea, salty and fresh, and like his cologne, some heady combination of juniper, frankincense and grapefruit. He stepped closer and her breath caught as she peered up at him, watch the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the pulse in his throat, the way his lips parted. When he placed his scarred cheek against hers, she thought she would explode with longing. She closed her eyes, sucked in a shaky breath and shivered with delight as he took both of her shoulders in his hands and held her tight. As he feathered kisses over her cheeks and down her neck to the hollow of her throat, a moan escaped her. His hair tickled her chin, and she gasped as he kissed the same spot, and then his lips brushed against hers sending tiny, delicious sparks to her core.

She waited for more but when it didn’t come, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her. His eyes were black pearls, and his breaths came fast and shallow. There was an energy between them that fizzled, and she wanted his kisses, craved his touch more than she’d ever craved anything.

‘Sorry,’ he whispered eventually. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Don’t be sorry. I’m not.’ She raised her hands and placed them on his cheeks, held him as their bodies pressed together. She touched her thumb to his scar and something flickered in his eyes. There was heat between them, a searing heat that could light a fire that would burn brightly forever or scorch them both and leave them in ashes. It was that powerful a connection and Lena had never felt the same way about any man before. ‘I want this, Thomas. With everything I am.’

He stroked his hands up and down her arms then slid them around her back where they settled on her waist. ‘Can we… take this slowly? For both our sakes.’

‘Of course.’ She smiled as tears pricked her eyes; she understood why he asked this. ‘Of course we can.’

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips then he stepped backwards and held out his hand. ‘Shall we finish the tour?’

‘I think that’s a good plan.’ She squeezed his hand then took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. Whatever this was between them, it was incredibly powerful, and she wanted to fan the flames not extinguish them by rushing. The heat they shared could burn out too quickly if she wasn’t careful. Left to smoulder though, it could become something lasting.

After he’d shown her around the kitchen with its bifold doors that opened onto a pretty courtyard garden, and the small, useful utility room, he led the way upstairs and showed her the two bedrooms, study and bathroom.

‘You can shower in here.’ He opened a cupboard and got out two towels that he handed to her. ‘There’s shampoo and shower gelon the shelf in the shower and there’s also conditioner because, well…’ He tousled his hair. ‘This can get kind of knotty.’

‘You have beautiful hair.’ She loved his hair and how it fell around his face, how dark and shiny it was. Up close she could see a few white hairs glinting but they only added to his appeal.

‘I’ll give you some privacy.’ He turned to leave then he paused. ‘Do you need some clean clothes?’

‘I can put these back on.’ She pointed at her cropped trousers and T-shirt.

‘No, they’ll be sandy too. I’ll get you something to change into. Back in a moment.’

He left the bathroom, and she looked around at the walk-in shower, deep bath, sink and toilet. It all looked new and modern, and she suspected he’d had it done recently. The bath looked deep enough to swim in and she pictured Thomas lounging in it while he listened to an audiobook. They could bath together, their feet resting on each other as they shared a bottle of wine and listened to music or a podcast. Such an image of cosy domesticity with Thomas appealed to her and her chest squeezed for the life they could have together. But, of course, she was jumping the gun and he might not feel the same way as her, so she needed to hit pause in her head and wait and see.

Wait and see… How frustratingly awful!

She laughed out loud and then covered her mouth in case Thomas heard her and thought she was mad laughing alone in his bathroom.

‘Here you go,’ he said when he reappeared holding a pile of clothes. ‘You can take your pick from these.’

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