Page 42 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
“Oh, yes.” Cassie smiled. “Excuse me, I’d better go and say goodbye.”
“Of course.” He returned the smile. “See you later.”
He turned to gaze out over the bay again. The sun was warm on his face, and there was a bumblebee humming over a rosemary bush clinging to the cliff below him. There were families on the beach, building sandcastles, playing frisbee.
It was a while since he’d been here to the hotel, though it was so close. He hadn’t been since Natalie was alive. They used to go for long walks along the coast path on Saturday afternoons with Bramble, his dad’s springer spaniel, then come here for tea and scones.
Natalie was always full of laughter. It was the first thing he had noticed about her, that day at Widdecombe Fair — after the pink candyfloss round her mouth. He found himself smiling as the happy memories came dancing back. He’d never really talked about those good times, not to anyone.
Odd that it should be Cassie who had unlocked them.
Cassie. He was beginning to recognise the subtle changes in her that ten years had wrought. That old sparkle was still there, but now there was a warmth that spread itself generously over a motherless little girl, an eager puppy, a man who . . .
He shook his head — he hadn’t worked that one out yet.
He didn’t feel like going back inside and having to talk to people. A flight of stone steps at the side of the terrace led down to the beach. He took off his tie, folded it into his pocket, and unfastened his collar as he felt the red-gold sand crunch beneath his feet.
Cassie. A small smile curved his mouth. Cassie in that pretty summer dress, the hem flirting just above her knees. He had rarely seen her in a dress — even at her sister’s birthday party all those years ago she had been wearing jeans.
He’d known her since she was a kid — his mate Paul’s younger sister, tagging along with their gang, always game, though she had been the youngest. But that night at the party he had been startled to notice how she was growing up — no longer the tomboy, but a very attractive young woman.
It seemed so long ago now, so much had happened. He had loved her then, had assumed that they would have a future together. It had hurt badly when she’d left. It had taken him awhile to acknowledge that she had probably been right to go — at eighteen, she had been too young to settle down.
And he had found happiness again with Natalie. As Edie Channing had said, life kept moving forward — no matter how hard you tried to hold it back. It was moving forward again now, letting the sunshine in as the dark clouds drifted away.
But it was unlikely to move forward with Cassie. Though the echo of that old attraction was still there, time had left all that in the past. She probably would be leaving again soon. After all, what had Sturcombe to offer to compete with the excitement of white-water rafting, bungee jumping, diving along the Great Barrier Reef.
No, there was no point even thinking about it.
Chapter Eight
“Oh, Daddy, you do look pretty.”
“Pretty?” Liam suppressed a laugh.
“In your bestest clothes. Will the party be fun?”
“I hope so, sweetie.” He bent over and dropped a kiss on the tip of his daughter’s nose. “Remember what I told you? It’s to raise money for the poor orphaned horses.”
“Will you raise lots of money?”
“I hope so.”
“Then they’ll have plenty to eat and somewhere to keep warm,” the child asserted wisely.
“That’s right.” He tucked the duvet up around her shoulders. “Now you be good for Granny tonight. She’s going to read your bedtime story.”
A wide beaming smile spread across her pretty face. “A’wight, Daddy,” she promised. “Bye-bye.”
“Bye-bye, sweetheart.”
His mum glanced up from the sofa as he came down the stairs. “Very smart,” she approved.
“Thanks. Robyn said I looked pretty.”
Diane Ellis laughed. “She doesn’t often see you in a dinner jacket.”
“It’s a rare sight. Anyway, she’s tucked down and ready for her story.”
