Page 60 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
They had turned onto the main road. Alex accelerated smoothly, overtaking a caravan and tucking back into the left-hand lane.
“Music?” he suggested.
“That would be nice.”
“What would you like?”
“You choose.”
He smiled and tapped the screen, and a soft female voice filled the car.
“Who’s this?” she asked, curious. “It isn’t Adele.”
“K.D. Lang — a fellow Canadian.”
“She’s got a lovely voice.”
“She has.”
Shelley leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, listening to the soft, melancholy music, relieved at not having to try to keep up a conversation.
It was all very well telling herself that she could just enjoy this while it lasted, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that she was already getting in too deep. Sitting beside him in the car she was all too aware of the hard muscles in his shoulder, close to hers, and the way his dark hair was just starting to curl over his ear.
And the memory of how he had kissed her . . .
They drove for about fifteen minutes, then turned off the main road onto a narrower one beneath overhanging trees. A few minutes later they turned into a car park in front of a low building of local grey stone, not much larger than a bungalow. As Alex opened the car door for her, she heard the soft babble of water running over rocks.
A neatly trimmed box shrub in a wooden half-barrel stood beside the front door. Inside, there were only about fifteen tables, half of them occupied. A cheerful waitress in a pink tabard greeted them with a friendly smile.
“Ah, hello. Come on in. A table for two?”
“Yes please. I phoned earlier — Alex Crocombe.”
“Oh yes, of course. Would you like to sit by the window?”
“That would be nice.”
She led them over to an empty table with a view over the stream Shelley had heard. The banks were overhung with lush green shrubs, lit up in places by amber lanterns slung from the branches of the trees. A little further upstream was an old stone bridge, spanning the water in a single curved arch.
“Oh, it’s so pretty!” Shelley exclaimed as she sat down. “You could just imagine there were elves or fairies living there.” She felt her cheeks flush with heat.Oh, lord. What a stupid thing to say!Alex was going to think she was completely crazy!
But he was smiling, his eyes warm. “You could.”
Taking one of the laminated menus on the table, she studied it, then laid it down on the table, remembering Jess’s advice.
“I really can’t decide. It all looks good. You choose.”
A flicker of surprise, but he smiled. “Okay, how about . . . salmon ceviche with mango, followed by pan-seared lamb cutlets in rosemary sauce?”
“That sounds good.”
“And I’ll have the same,” he told the waitress. “And I’ll have mineral water, please. Would you like wine with yours, Shelley?”
“Oh . . . No, mineral water will be fine for me too. Thank you.”
Relief — she’d got through that part without too much trouble. Now the conversation bit.
“Why did you decide to join the air force?” she asked.
