Page 29 of Riding the Waves

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Damian said.

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

Ending the call, she felt a tingle of anticipation deep in her gut and pushed down thoughts of just how much she was looking forward to it.

CHAPTER 13

Given the warm weather, it was only natural that Amy shower and change before going to Damian’s place on Tuesday afternoon. The soft denim dress that fell halfway down her thighs was comfortable. That was why she chose it. If it was incredibly flattering and showed off a little extra skin, that was incidental.

The sun had given her skin a healthy glow, so she didn’t bother with a lot of makeup – just a flicker of mascara and a smidge of lip gloss. She styled her hair into loose curls, ruffling them to look more natural. She was on holiday so it was nice to make a bit of effort, but it was only because it made her feel good and not because she was trying to impress her ex.

She might have convinced herself of that sentiment if it weren’t for her sweaty palms and racing pulse when she stood on Damian’s doorstep. Excitement or nerves or a combination of the two caused a quiver in her stomach when she rang the bell.

A mixture of shouts and thuds on the stairs hit her ears before the door was yanked open.

“It’s Mummy!” Billy shouted loudly. Marty shot along the hall and straight into her arms.

“Let her get in the door,” Damian called from the kitchen doorway, a wooden spoon poised in his hand.

“Something smells good,” she told him.

“Thanks.” He gave her a quick, appreciative once-over that made her glad she’d made the effort. Obviously it hadn’t only been about feeling good. She wanted to feel desired by Damian. And she’d got what she wanted immediately.

When she moved to kiss his cheek in greeting, she caught a waft of aftershave so familiar and intoxicating that it made her stomach flip. His hand lingered on her hip as she pulled away. Taking a reluctant step back, she clocked his jet-black T-shirt and stonewashed jeans. Normally, she only ever saw him in shorts and faded T-shirts, the logos of which were usually too worn to discern.

“Mummy!” Marty pulled on her hand, demanding her attention. “I stood up on the surf board two times today.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

He nodded. “Daddy took us today, not Sara, and it was just us. No other kids.”

“That sounds great,” she said, already missing the feel of Damian’s hand at her hip.

“Yesterday we got to sit in a lifeboat,” Billy said.

“Not in the water,” Marty informed her. “It was just in the shed. Jack showed us. He works there and he’s friends with Scarlett.”

“You’re very lucky boys,” she told them, her gaze fixed on Damian, who’d moved back to stir whatever was on the hob. “What is it that smells so good?” she asked.

“Sweet and sour pork with rice and veg.”

Amy spotted the array of ingredients sitting on the sideboard. “Have you made it from scratch?”

“Yep,” he said casually over his shoulder.

“Even the sauce?”

“Even the sauce,” he confirmed. “Don’t be too impressed until you’ve tried it.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells, I’ll be very impressed.”

“Sweet and sour sauce is actually really easy to make,” he said, sounding oddly unsure of himself as he kept his back to her.

“Should I set the table?”

“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he said.

She’d just laid out plates and cutlery and the boys had climbed up onto their seats when she looked up to find Damian staring at her.

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