Page 30 of Escape to Starshine Cove
I’m not sure if it’s a roof terrace for customers, or if it’s just Jake’s, or if this will be like walking into someone’s home. Unsure of the etiquette, I tap the door with my knuckles, and open it.
The terrace isn’t large, but it is breathtaking. Perched so high, the views of the cove and the sea stretch into infinity, the late afternoon sunlight reflecting on the turquoise waves, the distant shape of red cliffs curving around the coast in a blaze of colour. It is so beautiful it makes me sigh.
I tear my eyes away from the sea, and am confronted with something else that makes me sigh. Jake is lying on a mat on the terrace, wearing nothing but a pair of olive-green cargo shorts, eyes closed and headphones on. He clearly doesn’t know we are here, and I allow myself a guilty moment of sheer pleasure as I look at him.
The gorgeous face is matched by an equally gorgeous body, lean and tanned and muscled, long legs stretching out, a perfectly contoured chest with a plume of dark hair feathering down to his waist. His arms are crossed beneath his head, biceps fairly shining in the sun, and his deep brown waves are wild and tousled. Jesus, I think, it’s like he was created in a lab – it doesn’t seem fair that one man should have so much going for him.
I feel a tiny curl of desire creeping across my stomach, a physical yearning that I haven’t experienced for a very long time. Maybe not since I first met Mark. We weren’t exactly setting the world alight in the bedroom department by the end, and it has been over six months since I last touched a man in a way that wasn’t either professional or simply affectionate. What I feel when I look at Jake in that moment isn’t either of those things – it is much more basic than that.
I can feel the flush crawling over my cheeks, and am suddenly way more hot than I should be. I turn around, deciding that I will just leave the water here, and run away. It seems like the only safe solution to my predicament. I don’t enjoy feeling like a peeping tom pervert, and there is a cold shower most definitely calling my name.
Larry, though, has other ideas, and I look on in horror as he runs straight over to Jake, and starts giving his face a thorough tongue bath. Give a dog a sausage and you’ve got a stalker for life.
Jake sits up in surprise, looking understandably bewildered but soon recovering. He pulls off his headphones, and scratches Larry behind the ears, looking around and spotting me. I freeze for a moment, and tell myself to get a grip. I have seen male bodies before, and I will see them again – plus Jake isn’t a mind-reader, thank God, so he has no idea what kind of reaction seeing him like this has provoked in me.
“Hi!” I say brightly, walking towards him. “Matt asked me to drop off some water for you…sorry to intrude. My dog has no concept of boundaries.”
Larry is, by this stage, nestled on his lap and licking his chest, which in all honesty sounds like a really great place to be.
“No problem,” he says, “good to see you. Pull up a chair.”
He moves Larry, and stands up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. Look away, look away, look away, I tell myself, fumbling as I pick up one of the fold-out wooden chairs. Jake grabs his discarded T-shirt and puts it on, which goes some way towards defusing the situation.
I make myself busy getting Larry’s little portable bowl from my bag, pouring him some water, and swishing my hair in front of my face while my blush fades down to something that can’t actually be spotted from space by a passing satellite.
Jake places the other chair next to me, and takes a long pull from the water. Somehow, he even manages to make the act of drinking look sexy.
“I thought you were away until tomorrow?” I say, glancing around at the terrace. It is a lush little place, much of the surface covered in terracotta pots filled with dazzling flowers, a small herb garden off on one side rich with the smell of rosemary and mint, troughs spilling over with lavender and bright-pink zinnias with petals that look like they’re made of velvet. I reach out and touch one, finding that they feel like velvet too.
“Yeah, well, that was the plan,” he says, looking troubled and running his hands over his face. “It was dad’s birthday, and me and my brother both went home for it. Thing is, with my dad… Well, he’s a bit of a dick, to be frank.”
I laugh at his honesty, and am rewarded with a grin.
“Right,” I reply, sipping some of the water left in the bottle. “Well, families can be complicated. Mine live abroad.”
“That’s the stuff of dreams for us. Don’t get me wrong, I love him – he’s my dad. But he’s also pig-headed, rude, arrogant and just plain hard to be around. Every time I go back, I promise myself I won’t be baited, won’t rise to it. And every time, he manages to get under my skin.”
“I get it. You love him, but you don’t like him?”
“Exactly! They’re two very different things, aren’t they? Anyway. I did a runner, and came back here…”
“To your happy place.”
He ponders this for a moment, then nods. “Yes. To my happy place. I have cover in the bar and the kitchens for another night, so I thought I’d just head up here, away from everybody, and try to calm down.”
I gesture at the terrace, and say: “It’s really lovely up here. And I’m sorry if I disturbed your zen moment.”
He waves it off, and quickly replies: “Nah, that’s okay. I’m not very good at zen, to be honest. I was trying really hard, but I was already getting bored.”
“I was always the same at meditation classes. Just totally sucked at it.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect. Sorry if I unloaded there – not everybody is fascinated by my dysfunctional family, I realise.”
“What about Connie? She’s fascinated by everything.”
He looks at me, and shakes his head. “You’re the first person here I’ve talked to about my family. Guess you’re just lucky!”
“Or maybe you just recognise another emotional hermit when you see one, and reckon I’ll keep your secrets safe. Which, by the way, I will.”
