Page 23 of One Golden Summer
I hate acting!
“I’m sorry. I’ll finish reading it soon. I promise.”
“In the meantime, I’ve scheduled another podcast interview next Wednesday. Don’t think of blowing it off.”
Saffron made a gun with her fingers and blew her head off. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve got to run. Bye.” She ended the call.
She’d hate knowing I’m sitting here, drawing on the precious script and haven’t read a word. That thought put a smile on her lips.
Taking up a pencil, she eyed the sketch she’d made of Kirsty, trying to capture the way her grey eyes sparkled when she smiled. The sparkle transformed into fireworks when she tilted her head back and laughed, so carefree and beautiful.
Saffron crossed her legs.
It was foolish to let her mind wander to Kirsty, who in all probability wasn’t giving Saffron a moment’s thought. Why would she be interested in a Hollywood star? The tabloids were chock full of stories about the vapid Saffron Oliver. Or the mysterious and moody actress who’d recently ditched her girl squad to appear on red carpets alone. None of them could make up their minds, which suited Saffron most of the time. She didn’t want anyone to know the true Saffron. Or, that had been the case until popping down to Sandy Cove.
It was no use, though. Down-to-Earth Kirsty wasn’t the type to daydream about Saffron. Sure, Kirsty had confided in Ginger about stripping off Saffron’s leathers, but that was before they met. Daydreaming was one thing, acting on those impulses was an entirely different matter. Besides, Saffron never had good luck in the women department. Only bad, bad, bad—
Her phone buzzed and she read the text:Ready for a kayak session this afternoon?
She tapped her pencil against the drawing of Kirsty, wondering if her luck was about to change.
* * *
Kirsty stoodoutside a bright pink beach hut with blue trim, waving both hands, making it impossible for Saffron to miss the destination.
“Did you have trouble finding the place?” Kirsty took a deep breath.
“Not at all.” It’d be hard to miss Kirsty’sjoie de vivrecoupled with the cheery hut. “This place is amazing.” Saffron read the hand-painted sign over the door:Toffee Cottage.
Kirsty followed her gaze. “My parents named it that because when I was a kid, I had a serious toffee addiction.”
“Do you now?”
“Not after my seventh filling. The detox wasn’t fun for anyone.” She couldn’t maintain her pointed stare, as if daring Saffron to laugh, and broke into a wide grin.
“Poor you.” Saffron tugged the collar of her shirt from her flushed skin. “Can I get the grand tour?”
“After you.” Kirsty did a slight curtsy.
Saffron stepped inside, noticing it wasn’t much bigger than a garden shed, but way posher like a sophisticated playhouse for grown-ups. “Oh, I love the vintage stuff, especially the beaded chandelier.”
“My parents bought this place more than forty years ago for a song and most of this stuff came with it. My nana made the quilt on the daybed. You can sleep two in here comfortably, but when I was a teen, we’d put up a tent on the porch with sleeping bags, and six of us could spend the weekend all on our own, feeling like proper grown-ups. My parents liked that we weren’t far from home.” Kirsty wheeled about, looking out the door at the water. “This place always makes me feel at peace with the world. I can sit on the porch and watch the tide roll in and out all day and never get bored. At night, I become enthralled by the stars.” Kirsty looked over her shoulder, her penetrating gaze igniting a fire inside Saffron. “This little oasis has been a part of my life since the seventies.”
“It has not.” Saffron took a step back.
“It has.”
“There’s no way you can remember spending time here in the seventies.” Saffron narrowed her eyes to inspect Kirsty’s face. “No way at all.”
“Yet, I do. Does that shock you?” Kirsty slanted her head in such a way a wave of dark hair framed her alabaster skin and Saffron had to stifle an urge to plant her mouth on Kirsty’s full and, no doubt, soft lips.
“It does. What’s your secret?”
“For?”
“Looking fab.”
Kirsty waggled a finger in the air. “I’ve already agreed to teach you how to kayak. No need for shameless flattery.”
