Page 38 of The Beach Cottage
The admission embarrassed her. “I’ve been holding off on paying my bill. Just until I some money in my account. The refuge is taking everything I have right now, and I thought they’d give me a bit more time.”
He grunted. “Apparently not. You should’ve said something. You can’t go without electricity just so your animals are fed.”
“They need it more than I do.”
“Okay, fair enough. Do you have any candles, or are we going to have to feel our way out of the office? Because I may get a little handsy, and you can’t hold me accountable for that.” He laughed.
Though he couldn’t see it, she rolled her eyes even as a smile drifted across her mouth. “No need to worry. I’ve got you covered.”
“What a shame,” he said. She could imagine him winking.
She opened the desk drawer and pulled out a torch. Then the two of them walked to the kitchen, where she lit some candles and spread them around the house. They ended up on the back deck, seated in chairs side by side with a bottle of wine between them as they listened to the ocean. Around them, candles flickered.
“Can I please give you enough money to get your power back on tomorrow?” he asked quietly.
Relying on anyone else wasn’t something she was used to doing. She’d been supporting herself since she was eighteen. Her parents had given her the beach house and the land for the refuge, but other than that, she’d had to manage on her own. And she liked it that way. She was beholden to no one and owed nothing. It meant she could be in control. No one could tell her what to do or how to live. But she needed his help. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“Of course you will. But there’s no rush.”
“It’s all harder than I thought it would be.” She sighed in the darkness, her throat aching.
He reached out and took her hand in his larger one, enveloping it completely. The warmth of his touch made her want to cry. “Everything always is.”
“How do people manage it?”
“What—life?”
“Life, business, running a charity.”
He looked at her. “You know most people don’t try to run a wildlife refuge on their own, right? It’s virtually impossible, yet you’ve managed to do it for years. Somehow you’ve kept the lights on—” he waved a hand around “—until tonight. That’s actually pretty amazing. I hope you know that.”
She swallowed. “Do you think so?”
“Of course. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
“Thanks.” She sniffled as tears threatened.
He squeezed her hand but didn’t let go. She wanted him to pull her close, kiss her tears away, tell her everything was going to be okay. But if he did, what would she do then? She wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy. She’d always pushed him away in the past. Would she do it again? She couldn’t trust herself not to. And how would Rob would feel about it?
“You know, this is actually pretty romantic,” he said, grinning at her in the golden swathe of candlelight. “I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”
Perhaps she should forget about the past and focus on the present. After all, she’d clearly misjudged him for all those years. He wasn’t the person she’d thought he was, or maybe he’d changed. Either way, she was starting to feel things for him she’d been running from her whole life. Nerves twirled and fluttered in her stomach like butterflies at the thought of where this could lead if she let go of control.
Seventeen
The water was clear and the reef was a plethora of colours under the dazzling sunlight that glinted as the waves surged back and forth across it. It was a small reef off the beach beside the headland where her father’s house perched high above them, its peaked roof like a shadow behind the piles of black rocks that scalloped the cliffs.
Beatrice, Dani, Harry and Bradford snorkelled around the rocks and over the reef together while Dad watched from the shore, seated in a folding chair that Bradford had insisted on bringing down the narrow path for him.
Parrotfish followed Beatrice’s flippers as she kicked. She looked back over her shoulder at them as she glided through the water. There were a variety of types of fish hovering above the reef. A clown fish ducked into an anemone as she sailed overhead. A small red coral trout peeped from behind a piece of coral and then ducked back behind it again when it spotted Bea.
She emerged through the surface of the water and spat out her mouthpiece before spitting out salt water with a cough. She pushed her mask up over her forehead and looked around, swimming in place. The others had made their way towards the shore, and Dad was folding up his chair. The sun was high overhead. It was time to go back to the house. The children were headed to Sydney on the noon ferry, and she’d dreaded the farewell for days.
It’d been so nice to have them stay with her on the island. She wished they could stay forever, although she knew it was good for them to build a life for themselves, and university was a big part of that. But she couldn’t help being selfish — she missed them. And now that Aidan had his new daughter and she rarely saw him, she was lonelier than she’d been willing to admit. She still had her friends, and her father and brother of course, but she missed Aidan and her kids.
She knew she could manage on her own, and she was doing rather well at that. But having them with her for two weeks reminded her how much she enjoyed their company. They’d become lovely, kind and thoughtful adults, and she couldn’t be prouder of them.
She put her mask and snorkel back in place and kicked towards the shore. On the beach, the sun baked her back within moments, and she was suddenly very glad that she’d worn a wetsuit. She’d had enough of sunburn to last her a lifetime.
