Page 4 of Love By Sunset

‘He had a surfing accident, yes. He was preparing to defend his English title, but ended up in hospital instead. So tragic. Apparently, he damaged his spine and broke a few ribs.’

‘That’s tough,’ Emily commented, as Lucy unlocked the front door and pushed it open. ‘What happened to him?’

‘Well, he recovered, but he doesn’t compete anymore. No-one seems to know the exact details, and it was a few years ago, now. Can’t recall exactly, but three or four years ago, maybe. He came back here to live, and he runs the café—’

‘Jake’s Café!’ Emily exclaimed. ‘I knew I’d heard the name Jake before. Has this Jake Bradstock always run it for the estate, then?’

They stood on the black and white tiled floor of the hall as sunlight slanted through the coloured glass at the top of the windows on either side of the door, casting rainbow colours which danced over the tiles.

Lucy looked at her, a slight frown on her face. ‘He doesn’t run it for the estate. Someone’s given you the wrong information there. Old Mr Whitchurch turned the café over to Jake quite a few years ago, that I know for certain. He’s run it for himself and his own profit since, apart from when he was away, and his manager ran it then.’ Lucy paused, looking thoughtful. ‘I’m not sure how it stands, whether he has tenancy rights or actually owns it, and has the deeds. Our solicitor will advise you about that. Will it make a difference?’

Emily’s brows went up. ‘I don’t know, but I suspect it will,’ she murmured. ‘We thought the cafe was estate owned and run. It’s a pretty major part of the deal, isn’t it? Café, car parking, and beach access. Take that away, and what’s left? A few miles of coast which, from what I recall from the maps, is inaccessible apart from the coast path, and this house.’

And yet Emily didn’t like to think a man crippled by an accident might have his livelihood taken from under his feet if Approach bought the place. After all, that was their agreement when she and Gerry set the firm up—buy, develop, expand, yes, but letting nothing suffer. Not people, nor the environment. Their company was ethical in their approach, although of late Gerry had been fighting this.

Twisting her lips, she sighed. Why was Gerry changing? He’d started to put profit before ethics, and it made everything between them so awkward. Work used to be fun, and she was proud of the company, but these days, it was becoming more and more of a battlefield. She’d even had recent thoughts about breaking their partnership up.

They wandered the ground floor, Emily enjoying the sizeable rooms, especially the enormous lounge at the back of the house, with three sets of French windows leading onto the terrace.

There was a wide, shallow-stepped staircase rising to a magnificent first floor. A faint smell of lavender lingered, and the red floral carpet under her feet glowed in the sunshine coming through the large, arched landing window. Emily climbed slowly, her hand sliding along the balustrade. She wondered how many people had gone up and down, how many balls, dinners and parties there had been, in this lovely house. Each bedroom was silent, ready and waiting for guests who no longer came, cut-glass scent bottles empty now of the perfumes of past visitors.

Once back in the hall, after exploring the upper floors, Emily drew in a deep breath. ‘Wow! Thanks, Lucy, for showing me round. I love this house. It feels… happy, somehow.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I think I’ll head out for a late lunch, and I’d like to have a look at Jake’s Café, so I’ll drive up there and kill two birds with one stone. Would you like to join me?’ It was a courteous gesture, but Emily was relieved to have Lucy shake her head with a smile and make excuses about needing to be back in the office.

Outside, they shook hands, and Lucy gave her a key so she could drop in on Sunday for another look, before they parted company. Lucy drove off, while Emily spent a few moments appreciating both the setting and the house itself. This part of the estate suited their purposes very well. Now she needed to find Jake of ex-surfer fame and discover whether he had any formal rights to owning the café.

It only took ten minutes before Emily was turning down the gravel road towards the beach car park. It was late for lunch, but she suspected the café did an all-day menu of light and quickly prepared meals suitable to eat in or takeout. Because it was still sunny and warm, she decided she’d like to sit outside at the tables she’d noticed last night.

Turning from her car towards the café, she stopped dead. Her knees felt weak, and a cool surge ran through her entire body as her eyes widened in shock. There he was…him… the surfer from last night! This time, he wore jeans and a tee-shirt and was reading a paper with a mug on the table beside him. Emily stood, appreciating the fit of the clothes which did nothing to hide his lean and muscled body, his broad shoulders and long, sprawled legs.

Whoa! She’d wondered if she’d somehow exaggerated his attractiveness, but no. Not at all. He was as sexy as hell.

Breaking her thrall, Emily walked towards the café and entered. Inside, it was bright, cheerful and clean, with well-spaced tables. There was also a small shop selling holiday-maker essentials and beach goods.

She smiled at the motherly lady wiping down the main counter. ‘Hi. Am I too late for something to eat? A sandwich and some coffee would be fine.’

‘No problem. We have specials written on the board there, or the sandwich menu is here.’ The lady behind the counter smiled as she handed over a laminated menu, her name tag telling Emily she was talking to Jenny Needham. ‘Do you want to take it out or eat in?’

‘Thank you. I’d love to eat at one of your outside tables.’

‘That’s fine. Once you’ve decided what you’d like, I’ll bring everything out as soon as it’s ready.’

Emily ran her eyes down the tempting list. BLT, Coronation chicken, tuna mayo with sweetcorn, ham or cheese, with local pickle, and egg mayo. All served with a side salad and crisps, or, for an added pound, a portion of chips. Everything sounded amazing, and she was almost drooling by the time she finished reading the menu. Here to wander down memory lane as well as scouting out a purchase counted as a holiday in her book, so she decided to have chips. ‘It’s hard to decide, but I think I’ll have a BLT, please, with chips. And a large latte. There’s such a good choice, I might have to come in every day and try a different sandwich each time.’

Especially if it meant running into the sexy surfer! Then she spotted the cakes laid out under a glass case in front of her. ‘Oh my, the cake selection looks to die for!’ Emily grinned at Mrs Needham, who was jotting her choices down on a slip torn from a pad.

‘Made by the owner.’ Mrs Needham smiled back. ‘On holiday, then?’

The owner? Her face went blank. Jake Bradstock, the surfer who’d lost his dreams because of an accident, made cakes?Surelynot?

Emily realised Mrs Needham was looking at her expectantly and gave a quick shake of her head, offering another smile. ‘Sort of. When I was a child, I used to come here, but I haven’t been back for nearly twenty years. I had some business in the area, so, yes, I decided to make it a holiday, mixed with a bit of work.’

The idea already in her mind that she might stay gained strength. She’d had no holidays for months.

‘Forecast’s good,’ Mrs Needham commented. ‘You sit down. I’ll have this out to you in a moment.’

‘Thanks.’ Emily went back outside and paused. She knew where she wanted to sit. Near him. The sexy surfer. But… that would be way too obvious in view of the fact the other tables were all empty. She hesitated a little too long, and he must have caught sight of her in his peripheral vision because he lowered his paper, his golden eyes fixing on her face. There was still that tangle of curling hair falling over his forehead to his eyebrows, still those lazy eyes, lids part closed, promising her everything. Still stubble outlining the jaw, still that mouth, that kissable, kissable mouth…

She couldn’t turn away from his mesmerising gaze.

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