Page 37 of All Summer Long

Early Saturday-morning sunshine filtered through the windows into the Airstream, bathing Robinson in a shaft of dappled, golden light. Alice sat up and leaned against the wall in bed, her arms around her knees, watching him. She hadn’t realised it up to that precise moment, but this was the first time that she’d seen him truly relaxed. He was on his back, one arm flung above his head on the pillow, the other hand stretched out towards her in his sleep, exuding tranquillity in a way that invited her to lay back down and enjoy the peace of the moment with him. In a while she would, but right now she wanted just to look at him for a little longer. She didn’t regret what had happened last night. Not the first time, nor the slower, sexier second time that followed soon afterwards, and definitely not the tender, half awake, half asleep third time in the middle of the night, either. That kind of sex wasn’t something any sane person could regret. He’d probably call it smokin’. She’d call it so hot that it was a wonder the Airstream hadn’t exploded and burned itself into a hole in the ground.

‘Come here, pretty girl,’ Robinson said, lifting the quilt and not even opening his eyes. If he had, he’d have seen Alice’s gaze slide down his body and appreciate the view. As it was she let out a contented little sigh and snuggled in, enjoying the feeling of his bigger, warm body spooned around hers, his arms holding her close inside the quilt.

‘What time is it?’ he murmured.

‘Just before six.’ Alice closed her eyes and listened to his breathing close to her ear. He moved her hair aside and smooched the back of her neck.

‘Early.’ Alice heard the smile in his voice. ‘Feels good.’

‘I know,’ she said, bringing his palm up to her face and kissing it.

‘Let’s stay in bed a while,’ he said, and from the way he stirred behind her, Alice guessed he didn’t have sleep on his mind. That was pretty lucky, because as it happened, neither did she.

‘Alice!’

Niamh banged on the door of the Airstream.

‘Alice, wake up. I need to talk to you!’

Inside, Alice was instantly wide awake and in a panic. How do you hide a six-foot sleeping cowboy in a one-room caravan? Answer: you didn’t. Niamh couldn’t come in, so she’d have to go out. Flinging on her long robe and dragging her hair back in a band, she opened the door just enough to slide out and pushed it shut again behind her.

‘Morning,’ she said, tying her belt and leaning down to fuss an overeager Pluto. ‘Wassamatter?’

Niamh glanced behind her towards the manor. ‘Are we still supposed to be keeping it a secret that we have a superstar staying in the village?’

‘Absolutely and totally yes,’ Alice said, quickly and quietly. Even more so after last night and this morning. ‘Why?’

‘Well … shall we have coffee?’ Niamh looked hopefully towards the Airstream.

‘I’m all out. Why did you ask about Robinson?’

‘Tea, maybe?’ Niamh hedged.

‘No milk,’ Alice lied, getting that sinking feeling. ‘Niamh, what’s going on?’

Niamh gave up on the idea of a drink and sat down hard on an upturned bucket. Pluto sat beside her with his head on her knee.

’Nothing really,’ she said, but her tone suggested otherwise. ‘It’s just that I was in The Siren last night and a couple of things struck me as odd, that’s all.’

‘What things?’ Alice frowned, perching on the edge of a deckchair and pulling her robe over her knees.

Niamh screwed her face up. ‘Dessy, for one. I mean he’s always wearing something odd so it could have been nothing, but leather chaps and a Stetson seemed a bit extreme for behind the bar, even for him.’

Alice had seen Dessy pulling pints in many strange outfits, so she didn’t panic too much.

‘Which would have been fine,’ Niamh went on, ‘except Jase appeared in an almost identical costume, only without a shirt and a lasso over his shoulder.’

Okay, so that was maybe a little bit more worrying. The landlords of The Siren were divinely handsome men and Alice had no doubt that they’d have carried the look off with aplomb, but Niamh’s story was definitely starting to ring warning bells.

‘Anything else?’ she said, chewing her thumbnail.

‘Davina.’

The postmistress’s name sent a shiver down Alice’s spine. She hadn’t forgiven her for the way she’d taken repeated, thankfully failed, shots at Brad during their marriage. There was no way she was going to get her claws into Robinson Duff.

‘What did she say?’ Alice’s heart rattled behind her ribs. If Davina knew he was here, the rest of the world would know he was here before lunchtime. She sighed, already lamenting the end of the sweetest, shortest affair in history.

’She didn’t mention Robinson by name, but she tried every which way to get me to tell her who was renting the manor. Seems she’s got wind that there’s someone in there worthy of gossip and she’s desperate to get the low down before everyone else.’

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