Page 21 of An Island in the Sun

‘Good. Let’s try that.’

His grinning face betrayed little as he leant closer. It crossed Tabitha’s mind that he was about to kiss her, when his hands landed on her back and, with one gentle shove, she went sprawling forwards. With a shriek and an almighty splash, she plummeted into the actually-not-so-warm water of the pool.

Although muffled beneath the water, Raff’s laughter filled the night as she broke through the surface.

‘You bastard!’ she shrieked.

He held his hand to his chest, hardly containing himself as he wracked with laughter. ‘I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help it.’

Finding her footing on the base of the pool, she flicked water in his direction before surging forward. She grabbed a handful of his T-shirt, tugging him in with her. She was submerged again, the tepid water bubbling around them. Raff reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her up with him as they surfaced together, water spraying into the night. The noises that had been muffled underwater screamed back into surround sound, Bailey and Fudge’s barks overpowering the gentle chatter of night-time insects as they ran up and down the length of the pool, their long ears flapping.

Raff removed his hands from her waist, although his grin remained. ‘Was that less serious?’

‘It wasn’t quite what I had in mind,’ Tabitha said, laughing. She pointed at the dogs. ‘We’re so going to disturb the neighbours.’

‘They’ll just think you’re having a party.’

‘That’s the problem.’

‘They won’t tell on you, I promise.’

‘Hmm…’ Tabitha huffed, unconvinced, but she couldn’t contain her smile. She gestured to her soaked T-shirt. ‘What now?’

Raff’s eyes travelled downwards. Submerged to his waist, his T-shirt was pretty much see-through and the way his eyes lingered suggested hers was in a similar state.

‘We could play a game?’ His attention drifted from her wet T-shirt upwards.

She met his gaze. ‘Like what?’

‘Maybe strip poker.’

Tabitha snorted. ‘That’s wishful thinking.’

‘Was worth a try.’

He swam to the edge of the pool and heaved himself onto the paving, water pouring from his jeans. Turning back, he offered her his hand. She took it and clambered out.

He ran a hand through his soaking hair. ‘To be honest, it’s just been good to drink and chat.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Tabitha said as she squeezed the excess water from her hair. Droplets splashed onto the stone, as well as on Fudge and Bailey, who were skittering around their feet.

Although tempting, Tabitha refrained from changing her mind about playing strip poker. She hadn’t had quite enough to drink yet to say yes to that, although thinking back on her mid-twenties when she’d toured with bands and hung out with rock stars, it wasn’t as if she’d never done anything like that before. Not that Raff needed to know…

With the dogs on their heels and dripping water across Cordelia and Rufus’s spotless living room floor, Tabitha grabbed towels from the bathroom and threw one to Raff before they separated: Raff to the guest bedroom and Tabitha to hers.

Fudge followed her into the room and she closed the door. She took a deep breath. Every part of her tingled.Everypart of her. She bit her lip and looked down at Fudge gazing up at her.

‘This is another right pickle.’ Fudge cocked his head to one side and Tabitha shook hers. ‘You wouldn’t understand, buddy.’

Peeling off her soaking shorts, T-shirt and underwear, she left them in the shower to deal with later and got dried and redressed in a skirt and top. She towel-dried her hair, spritzed product in it and scrunched her curls. With Fudge following like a shadow, she returned to the living room to find Raff already there in a dry T-shirt and jeans, pouring tequila into two shot glasses.

‘This bottle’s been in the cupboard unopened for years.’ He handed her one of the glasses. ‘Thought we’d forgo the lemon and salt.’

Tabitha wondered if this was a good idea, but as Raff raised his glass to hers there wasn’t time to dwell. They clinked glasses and downed the tequila in one. Tabitha pulled a face as the liquid slid down her throat.

‘Tequila is one of the few spirits I can still drink,’ Raff said, raising an eyebrow as he poured another shot. With little hesitation, they downed them too.

Raff poured them a third shot and placed the bottle on the coffee table. With Bailey and Fudge both settled on the sofa, Tabitha and Raff sat together on the rug. Along with Florence and the Machine’s ‘Dog Days Are Over’ playing in the background, night-time noises floated in through the open doors – a distant bark, a rustle in the undergrowth – giving a sense of the inside and outside converging. Moths fluttered around the patio, drawn to the blue-lit pool. Beyond that, there was star-speckled darkness. The moon cast a silvery glow over the Atlantic Ocean.

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