“I should have reminded you.”
“You shouldn’t have to remind me. It was my job to remember. I should have booked a table for dinner and taken you on a romantic night away without making you book it yourself. I’m sorry things had to get to the point where you snapped. You should have felt able to reach out to me and tell me. It’s my fault that you didn’t. I was rushing, trying to get to work—as you say, prioritizing everything else.”
“Maybe I needed this time on my own. It’s been good for me.” Talking to Finn had been good for her too. It had helped her clarify what was important to her.
“You’re sure you were planning to come home?”
“Of course!” She was appalled that he felt the need to ask. A shaft of sunlight shot across the kitchen and she stood up. “Let’s go to the beach.”
“Now?”
“Why not? We used to love going there after a storm.”
“We were teenagers.”
“And? Fun isn’t only for the young.” She thought about her mother. “There are no rules that say you can’t still enjoy the things you used to enjoy. The waves will be rough, it will be blowy and there will be no people.”
He drained his coffee. “Are you planning to get dressed? And do you want breakfast first?”
“We’ll take breakfast with us. The light will be wonderful after that storm. I’m going to take some photographs I can use later for painting.”
They dressed quickly and Liza grabbed some fruit and a couple of muffins she’d bought the day before and pushed them into a bag.
Sean emerged, hair damp from a hasty shower and a sweatshirt looped around his shoulders. “I haven’t seen you in shorts for years. You seem to have bought an entire new wardrobe.”
“I didn’t have the right clothing.” She slid her feet into flip-flops and together they walked across the field and down onto the beach.
Apart from a lone dog walker in the distance, they had the place to themselves.
Liza kicked off her flip-flops and walked barefoot to the water’s edge. The sea was choppy, but the storm clouds had cleared, and it promised to be another sunny day.
“We met on this beach.” Sean put his arm round her. “I was intimidated by you.”
She leaned into him. “That’s ridiculous. You were the cool guy. The one all the girls wanted.”
“And you didn’t look twice at me.”
“I looked. But I was shy.” The water surged over her feet and ankles, freezing cold, numbing skin.
“You were thoughtful. I liked that. You seemed to live so much of your life in your head.”
“I’d learned to be self-contained.”
He glanced at her, understanding. “Have you spoken to your mother?”
“Every day.” She saw his surprise. “We’ve talked more during the past week than we have for months. Years, maybe.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Her life. Martha is posting details of their trip on social media. Images, videos—they’ve called their account The Summer Seekers. I’ll show you later. They’re obviously having great fun.” Should she tell him about the letters? Maybe later. “I’m starting to understand her, and that helps.” She slid her arm round his waist and they walked along the water’s edge together. “I love it here.”
“Me too. Remember when we used to talk about buying a place? We had so many dreams. Whatever happened?”
He remembered. She’d thought he’d forgotten those conversations, but he hadn’t.
Her mood lifted further. “We grew up. We became sensible.”
“Maybe it’s time to do something about that.” He scooped her up without warning and she shrieked as he waded into the water with her in his arms.
“Sean! If you drop me, I’ll—”
“If I drop you? I’m going to drop you, sweetheart. It’s a question of when, not if.”
“You’ll ruin my new shorts.” She gasped as a wave crashed into them and the water splashed onto her face. “It’s too rough.”
“I’m here for you.” He kissed her. “I’m always here for you.”
Her heart turned over. When had they last said things like that to each other? She couldn’t remember.
Their clothes were wet and clung to them.
“You’re ridiculously irresponsible.”
“I know. And about time. If you ask me, we’ve been far too adult lately. As you say, fun isn’t only for the young.” He lowered her into the water and pulled her close. “We’re going to do more of this, Liza Lewis.”
“Spend time wet and freezing? Drowning?”
“Being spontaneous.” He stroked her soaked hair away from her face. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you home and into a hot shower.”
They raced back up the beach hand in hand and trailed sand through the kitchen on their way upstairs.
“We should have rinsed our feet—” Liza was giggling as they stumbled on the stairs.
“We’ll clean up later.” Sean kissed her and together they squeezed into the shower in the main guest bedroom. “This isn’t built for two.”
She closed her eyes as the shower rained down on her, washing away the sand and the salt, and the stress of the past few weeks. Sean’s mouth was on hers, delivering kisses and hope.
Constrained by the tight space, Sean switched off the flow of water, wrapped her in a towel and carried her through to the bedroom.
His hands were bold and sure, his body hard and familiar. He touched her with expert knowledge, smoothing away all the knots and doubts, removing the last of the distance between them. And for once she wasn’t worrying about the past or the future. There was nothing but the present and Sean and the ultimate intimacy of being known and truly loved.
How could she have forgotten how this felt? How could she have questioned his feelings for her when they were so obvious? This wasn’t sex, it was love, and he showed it with every touch, every kiss, every slow, skilled thrust until the pleasure built and spun out of control, leaving her weak and sated.
It was love, she thought, lying breathless in his arms.
Love.
He pulled her closer. “I missed this.”
“Sex? It’s not that long since we had sex.”
“It’s a long time since we had sex like this. Sex that felt close.”