‘It’s a nice thought. To grow old with the person you love.’ The smile disappeared and she knew he was thinking of his ex-wife.
‘Can I ask what happened with your marriage, or is that too nosey?’
‘It’s fair. You told me about Henry.’ He swallowed down some champagne. ‘I let her down. The hours I worked, it wasn’t fair on her. In the end she’d had enough and found someone else who could give her the attention I’d failed to give.’
‘She had an affair?’ Lottie felt outraged for him. However upset his wife had been, surely there was no excuse for going behind someone’s back and seeing someone else. ‘What happened to honesty, to trust?’
Matt realised he’d never seen Lottie angry, until now. And it wasn’t even for herself, it was for him.
‘I don’t blame her.’ He gazed down at the picnic food she’d laid out, but didn’t feel hungry. Usually he’d have deflected the question about his marriage, but Lottie had been so open about her relationship with Henry. He knew if he wanted to keep seeing her, on whatever level, he had to try and be open, too. ‘I wasn’t a nice person to live with.’
She picked up a slice of pork pie and munched on it with an apparent total disregard for the dubious, fat-laden contents.
‘What do you mean? I can’t see you losing control and getting angry. Throwing plates and the like. I picture you straightening them in the cupboard. Once you’ve put them in height order.’
‘Ouch.’ He tried to laugh, but he felt only intense embarrassment at the image she must have of him.
Her hand touched his arm, fingers tightening briefly around it before she pulled back, leaving his skin tingling. ‘Sorry, that was meant to be funny but it came off as bitchy.’
Talk to her. He drew in a breath, gaze looking out to sea, because that was easier than watching the pity on her face. ‘The pen-arranging is a hangover from my childhood.’ He shifted to hug his knees, the champagne forgotten. ‘Life was … tough in boarding school. I found straightening the pencils and pens on my desk, or tidying my drawers, would calm me down. Helped me feel in control again.’
‘You missed your parents.’
It was a statement, not a question, and Matt knew he could agree and let the matter slide, but that was the old him. The one who’d caused his wife to leave him. He wanted to do better. Be better. ‘I did, but that wasn’t the tough part.’ He rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling the tension. ‘I was bullied. Poor kid on a scholarship, surrounded by a school full of rich ones.’
‘Crap.’
At the soft tone of her voice he turned to look at her, and was nearly undone by the sympathy that shone from her eyes. ‘That sums it up nicely.’
‘Surely they weren’t all toffee-nosed bastards?’
‘No.’ The smile on his face felt incongruous with the memories in his head, yet that seemed to be one of Lottie’s superpowers. An ability to banish dark thoughts, at least temporarily. ‘But boys seen talking to me were ostracised too, so it was easier to keep myself to myself.’ Needing something to do, he picked up the glass, horrified to find his hands were trembling. ‘The experience left me very comfortable in my own company, but not so good in other people’s.’
Lottie screwed up her face. ‘Your wife clearly fell for you, so you can’t have been that bad.’
‘I think she liked the dark mysterious side of me, as she called it.’ His jaw tightened as flashbacks of arguments looped through his head. ‘But then work became more intense, the hours brutal.’ He hung his head and stared down at the pebbles, the bleak thoughts sending a chill through him despite the beauty of the day. ‘When I said I wasn’t nice to live with, it was more than not being there for her physically. I became withdrawn, so focused on work, I was useless to Patricia. She was different to me, a real extrovert. She liked to be around people, to talk things through, so she found someone else to do that with.’ Bitterness coiled in his gut. ‘They just didn’t stop at talking.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Lottie gave him a wry smile. ‘Call me biased but I still think she’s a bitch. It’s not like you were off enjoying yourself. You were working.’
‘True, but what sort of man puts his work before his wife?’
Her eyes narrowed on his. ‘Why did you decide to work in the City in the first place?’
He let out a huff of laughter. ‘The money. My parents struggled, and I didn’t want that for myself. Not the arguments about which debt to pay off first, the choice between food or heating.’ Embarrassment caused warmth to crawl up his neck. ‘Plus I wanted to show those bastards at school.’ He’d thought he was winning, proving something as the six-figure, sometimes seven-figure bonuses had rolled in. In reality he’d lost: his marriage over, his family estranged, his mental health struggling. ‘It seems the height of stupidity now.’
‘I think you’ve beaten yourself up enough over it.’ Lottie’s expression held no reproach, no disgust. There was nothing but understanding in her eyes. ‘It takes two to make a relationship work. Carry your share of the blame for the breakdown, sure, but it’s not fair on you to carry the whole burden.’ She glanced down at the food she’d spread out, and his barely touched glass. ‘Right, we have to make some serious effort on this picnic now, because I’m not taking any of it home.’ Her head turned towards Chewie who lay at her feet, eyes fixed on the sausage rolls. ‘Chewie only has so much willpower and I really don’t think processed meat is good for him. Or for us, for that matter.’ She picked up a sausage roll and grinned. ‘But it is bloody tasty.’
He eyed what she’d brought, not quite as convinced. Did she have any clue what was in the stuff she was eating? He reached for the cheese and placed it on his paper plate along with a hunk of bread, some tomatoes and two slices of melon.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Lottie laughing as Chewie watched every mouthful they took, eyes full of longing. ‘You’ll get your treat at the end,’ she told him, wriggling her bare toes against his side. The action drew Matt’s attention to her feet, and then again to her legs.
He wondered if his eyes were now showing a similar longing. One that involved reaching out to run his hands over the smooth skin and up, beneath her short white skirt.
Arousal arrowed through him and he had to look away before his lustful thoughts became evident.
‘So, after we’ve eaten.’ He coughed to rid the husk from his voice. ‘We read?’
‘Yep. We clear away the food, roll out the towels, lie down and shove our noses in our books.’ She eyed him thoughtfully. ‘When was the last time you spent a Sunday afternoon doing nothing but read?’
‘Never?’
‘Exactly. It’ll be good for you. Help reduce your blood pressure.’
He eyed the red ties of her bikini, showing at the back of her T-shirt. ‘I’m not so sure.’
Her gaze followed his and she smirked, clearly aware of how his thoughts were going. ‘I don’t have to take the T-shirt off.’
Deliberately he ran his eyes up her legs, over her body and up to her face. ‘I hope you do.’
With a small, mischievous smile, she tugged at the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. A bolt of lust ran through him as his gaze landed on the two triangles covering her breasts. Christ. He shifted, his boxers feeling way too tight. It wasn’t an overtly sexy bikini, the material safely covering her, but now he could see the curve of her cleavage, the weight of her breasts. Now he could imagine how they would feel in his hands.
She grinned at his expression and he had to consciously check that his tongue wasn’t hanging out of his mouth. ‘I’m supposed to focus on reading?’
Laughter bubbled out of her and the sound warmed him far more than the sun currently beating down. ‘I’m hoping this isn’t a one-way street.’ She waved towards his polo shirt, her eyes daring him. ‘You look awfully hot.’
He was a runner. He knew he looked okay, so he quickly shrugged the shirt off, enjoying the way her bold gaze ran over his bare chest.
After
swallowing down the rest of her champagne, she handed her glass to him. ‘You top us up, I’ll clear away. Oh and by the way.’ Her smile was an intriguing combination of sensual and mischievous. ‘You look even hotter now.’
He hadn’t received a compliment for a long time so instead of responding like a normal guy with a charming/cheeky/sexy/witty/playful remark of his own, he just smiled awkwardly.
As they settled onto the blanket, noses in their books, he found it hard to focus.
Not just because she was lying next to him, tempting him in that red bikini.
Not just because instead of wanting to read, he wanted to kiss every inch of the glorious body on view.
He was tortured by his thoughts. His initial intention to keep away until he was ready was the right one. He couldn’t bear to fail again, to hurt someone else. Yet the more time he spent in Lottie’s company, the more the decision seemed increasingly impossible to live with.
Chapter Sixteen
July, nominated book:
Summer on a Sunny Island by Sue Moorcroft
Lottie declared it was too glorious an evening to be inside so they carried the chairs out of the café and onto the beach. She spread her trusty blanket in the middle of them and Sally put Freddie down on it. Immediately he started rolling around, his chubby hands grabbing at the toys Sally placed near him. With the evening sun, the lapping waves, it was a fitting setting for a book set on the holiday island of Malta.
It was also sufficiently relaxing to take her mind off the fact that the van had overheated so much this afternoon, steam had hissed out of the engine. But it had been hot, she reasoned. If she could limp through summer, she might get away with not having to spend money on it until next year.
As the conversation flowed around her, a tiny bit of Lottie knew that by sitting outside, she was also avoiding Matt. After she’d effectively told him he was hot the other Sunday on the beach, he’d withdrawn from her. They’d read in companionable silence for a while, then taken Chewie for a stroll along the beach, but though Matt had smiled, replied in all the right places, he’d put up a wall between them.
When it had been time to go, he’d done the gentlemanly thing and walked her home, even insisted on carrying everything, but instead of the hot make-out session she’d been hoping for, she’d received a distracted kiss on the cheek.
So much for her powers of seduction.
Either he preferred to do the flirting and chasing, or she’d imagined the heat in his eyes when she’d revealed her bikini. Or maybe he did fancy her, but not enough.
‘Earth calling Lottie.’ Yanked out of her thoughts, she turned to find Sally watching her with an amused expression. ‘Where did you go? Because it certainly wasn’t to a sunny island. Not with that look on your face.’
‘Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.’ She shook herself, reaching for her glass – Audrey’s gin and tonic tasted extra special in the evening sun. ‘What were you saying?’
‘If you want the quick summary, I said it was a bloody good book and everyone agreed.’ Sally smirked. ‘Now tell us where you went in your head.’
‘I didn’t go anywhere interesting.’
Audrey huffed and held out her hand. ‘Give me your glass.’ She proceeded to glug an obscene amount of gin into it. ‘You know it’s coming to this club that keeps me going. And I don’t mean the book talk, good as it is. I mean the other talk. When you get to my age and spend most of your days sat by yourself in your front room, you have to live your life vicariously. Just a bugger we only do this once a month.’
Lottie glanced at them all. ‘Well, if Matt and Amy are willing, there’s no reason we can’t meet every fortnight, if we’re all up for it.’
‘Whoopee, I second that.’ Heidi raised her glass, and everyone voiced their agreement.
‘Don’t worry about my brother.’ Amy gave her a determined look. ‘I’ll make sure he’s okay with it.’
‘Well then, drink up everyone,’ Audrey announced. ‘Especially Lottie, so we can interrogate her.’ She cackled. ‘Never understood why special forces don’t use gin to extract information.’
Lottie eyed her glass warily. ‘If I drink all that you’ll never get anything out of me. I’ll be in a coma.’
‘But you’ll also have improved digestion, healthier-looking skin and live ten years longer.’ Gira smiled. ‘I read about it in The Times. Juniper berries are like a super-fruit.’
‘We’d best all have a refill then.’ Audrey began to lurch unsteadily to her feet but Amy, bless her, beat her to it.
‘I’ll serve.’ She let out a shy laugh. ‘It’s my job, after all.’
Before Audrey could get round to the interrogation, Lottie heard a scrunch of feet on pebbles. Heart pounding, she turned, only to find it was the older Steele coming towards them.
‘Hi, Jim.’ She hoped to God her disappointment didn’t show in her face. ‘Come for your slice of cake?’
His eyes darted towards the shop. ‘I have, but Matt doesn’t know I’m here.’
‘He’s banned you from joining us?’
He screwed up his face, looking faintly embarrassed. ‘Well, no. But I told him I couldn’t work this afternoon because I was playing bowls.’
Amy giggled. ‘Dad, you lied to Matt?’
‘White lie,’ he hurriedly told his daughter. ‘I’m saving a row. Can’t tell him I don’t want to work in his ruddy shop.’ His gaze dropped down to the gooey chocolate fudge cake, eyes devouring it.
‘Here.’ Lottie handed him a serviette. ‘Better wipe your chin, you’re drooling.’
He rubbed it and Heidi started to laugh. ‘She’s teasing you.’ While Jim shot Lottie a baleful look, Heidi cut him a huge slice. Chewie, lying on the blanket by Lottie’s feet, watched Heidi’s every move. ‘Here you go. Enjoy.’
‘I suppose I should take care of the oldies.’ Amy stood and went to sit on the blanket. ‘Have my seat, Dad.’
‘Hey, less of the cheek.’
Audrey chuckled. ‘Jim’s not old, love. He’s in his prime, like me. We just need to convince you young folk to see that and not treat us like we’ve reached our expiry date. There’s plenty we can still do, given the chance.’
‘Exactly. As long as it doesn’t involve new-fangled technology.’ He slunk into the chair. ‘Or standing, because my knees aren’t what they used to be.’
Everyone laughed and Jim started to chomp on the cake.
Lottie rolled her eyes as Chewie eyed up the plate. ‘Chewie.’ He raised his head to look at her. ‘Stop staring at Jim’s cake. You’re not getting any.’ If dogs could pout, she was certain he’d be doing it right now.
‘Are we serving this in the café yet?’ Jim mumbled between mouthfuls, then paused, his face paling. ‘Bugger, Matt told me not to say anything.’
Amy’s face turned scarlet as they all looked at her, confused. ‘Err, I was going to ask Heidi after we’d finished.’
‘Ask me what, dear?’
‘If you wanted … no.’ Clearly agitated, she drew in a breath. ‘Whether you’d be interested in supplying us. You know, with your cakes.’
Lottie watched as surprise filtered across Heidi’s face. ‘You want to sell my cakes. Here. In the café?’
Amy nodded. ‘I mean, we’d pay you. I have all the stuff I’m meant to talk to you about written down, but it’s in my bag back in the shop.’ Her cheeks coloured again. ‘Sorry, I’m supposed to do this in private. Matt’s going to be well cross with me.’
They were all so focused on Amy, they didn’t hear the scrunch of footsteps until it was too late. ‘Why am I going to be cross?’
The sound of the familiar smooth, deep voice caused Lottie to look over with a start. Matt’s eyes met hers briefly, his expression unreadable, before he looked at his sister.
‘It’s my fault.’ Jim wiped his chocolate-coated mouth with the serviette she’d given him and gave his son a brief rundown of what had happened. ‘I blame the cake, loosening my tongue. Mighty fine it is. Might
y fine.’
‘I thought you were playing bowls?’
‘Ah, yes.’ Jim scrunched up the napkin, eyes avoiding his son. ‘Decided not to go. Lure of the cake and all that.’
Matt’s jaw tightened. Lottie didn’t fully understand the undercurrents between them all, only that father and daughter clearly carried some resentment towards Matt. And that Matt was hurting because of it.
There was a moment of strained silence, broken by Heidi. ‘I’d be delighted to make cakes for the café.’
Amy stared at her. ‘You would?’
‘Good heavens, of course.’ She gave Amy a beaming smile. ‘I can’t imagine any better way to fill my days than baking for someone who actually wants my cakes. Thank you both.’
‘It was Amy’s idea,’ Matt said quietly. His gaze swept round the group and Lottie became acutely aware of how it looked, Amy and his dad sitting with them. Matt on the outside. ‘Sorry for the interruption. I actually came to scrounge a slice of the soon-to-be legendary cake.’
While Heidi fussed over cutting him a slice, Lottie watched him, a strange ache in her chest. A complex man. Totally unsuitable for the fun fling she felt ready for. Yet while logic said she should avoid him, she’d always been ruled by her heart, not her head.
As he sat in his office, Matt contemplated the half-eaten cake on his desk. He’d given up trying to tally up his accounts. That was for another day, when his mind was able to focus. He couldn’t explain how mixed up he’d felt seeing the group on the beach when he’d stepped outside. From a distance he’d watched Amy giggle, seen his father join the circle, chatting away as if he’d known them for years. The dog, the baby, the entire generation span enjoying the evening sun.
But while he was happy to see his dad and sister joining in, and pleased to see Lottie’s book club gelling, he’d also felt an acute sense of isolation. He’d come here to make a fresh start, yet once again he was the loner. Sitting in his office.
The Beach Reads Book Club: The most heartwarming and feel good summer holiday read of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 5) Page 14