The Cottage on Sunshine Beach: An utterly gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy

by Holly Martin

  The Cottage on Sunshine Beach

  An utterly gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy

  Holly Martin

  Also by Holly Martin

  SANDCASTLE BAY SERIES

  The Holiday Cottage by the Sea

  The Cottage on Sunshine Beach

  * * *

  HOPE ISLAND SERIES

  Spring at Blueberry Bay

  Summer at Buttercup Beach

  Christmas at Mistletoe Cove

  JUNIPER ISLAND SERIES

  Christmas Under a Cranberry Sky (Book 1)

  A Town Called Christmas (Book 2)

  WHITE CLIFF BAY SERIES

  Christmas at Lilac Cottage (White Cliff Bay Book 1)

  Snowflakes on Silver Cove (White Cliff Bay Book 2)

  Summer at Rose Island (White Cliff Bay Book 3)

  * * *

  Fairytale Beginnings

  The Guestbook

  One Hundred Proposals

  One Hundred Christmas Proposals

  HOLLY WRITING AS AMELIA THORNE

  Tied Up with Love

  Beneath the Moon and the Stars

  * * *

  THE SENTINEL SERIES (for Young Adults)

  The Sentinel

  The Prophecies

  The Revenge

  The Reckoning

  To my best friend. You sit there, by my side, every day and every night as I bang away on my keyboard. You’re the first to hear a new chapter and though sometimes, OK, every time, you fall asleep while I read it to you, I know secretly you are cheering me on. You listen to my plot holes and character problems with unending patience and though the postman arriving is far more exciting than anything I’ve ever written, I know that’s just to keep me humble and keep my feet on the ground. I tell you the exciting news of chart positions, paperbacks in shops, audio books and foreign deals and although it seems you’d rather lick your bum, chew on your paw or chase a fly across the lounge, I know secretly you’re pleased, how else will I pay for your sausages? I know life with me is hard, long walks on the beach every day, chicken for dinner, and me disturbing your beauty sleep when I dance around the lounge like a loon, but you will never know the joy you bring me. Thanks for being there, Skip.

  1

  Melody was late. She had big plans today, she couldn’t be late.

  She peered into the mirror and noted that the black mascara, the only bit of make-up she had attempted to put on that morning, was already smudged under one eye, making her look like she was attempting a new Goth look. She quickly wiped it off with a facial wipe, which left her looking a bit wonky with her pale blonde eyelashes on one eye and black ones on the other. She grabbed the mascara and tried again, stabbing the wand into her eye in her hurry. She cried out and blinked, causing spider-leg prints underneath her eye. She sighed and grabbed the facial wipe once more, wiping it across both eyes as she quickly left the bathroom.

  Plans to do something wonderful and cute with her hair had gone out the window too, and she pulled her blonde curls haphazardly up into a ponytail.

  Rocky, her two-month-old black curly-haired puppy, eyed her from his basket. The cause of her lateness looking all sweet and innocent.

  ‘It’s OK for you, you don’t have to do anything to look cute in the morning, you just wag your tail, and everyone is putty in your hands. Some of us have to put in a little bit of effort.’

  She ran into the kitchen, threw her rucksack onto the breakfast bar and knocked over the remains of a glass of orange juice in the process. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed some kitchen towel and mopped it up. She was the clumsiest person she knew. She got frustrated with herself sometimes for being so accident-prone; it was little wonder other people got frustrated with her too. If she made it through the day without knocking something over, spilling something or breaking something, it was a miracle. She tossed the wet kitchen towel in the bin and then threw some of the latest jewellery pieces she’d made into her bag. Thankfully she had carefully wrapped them up the night before and hadn’t left them to sort out that morning.

  She clamped her slice of jam on toast between her teeth and hopped on one foot as she tried to pull on her sparkly blue Converse. She smiled as she looked down at what she was wearing for work that day, a bright turquoise strapless sun dress with sea shells and starfish printed along the bottom. Just over a year ago, when she was working in her own exclusive jewellery boutique in London, she would have been wearing a smart suit. She earned a lot more money back then, selling expensive pieces she’d made or sourced to London’s rich. Now she was making jewellery out of cheap gemstones, silver clay, shells and sea glass and selling them to the tourists. But it made her happy.

  She wolfed down the rest of the toast as she snapped on Rocky’s lead and he bounced up around her, excited about just leaving the house. Since her early morning walks to work had started to include meeting Jamie Jackson on the way, she was excited too.

  She left Apple Tree Cottage, closing the bright yellow wooden door behind her as Rocky yapped at a bird as it flew into a rose bush.

  ‘Sit,’ Melody urged as the puppy strained on the lead while she tried to lock the door. His waggy bottom plopped down on the grass and she smiled. She had raised him almost from birth when his mum, Beauty, had too many puppies to feed by herself, so training had started a bit earlier than it normally would. Toilet training was almost perfect now but recall and other commands would take a while longer yet.

  Melody opened the front gate and paused for a moment as she looked out on Sunshine Beach, just a few yards away. The sea was a glorious turquoise today with gold-crested waves sparkling in a straight path towards the horizon where the sun burned bright in a denim blue sky. The pineapple yellow houses that tumbled down the hillside and touched the seashore still looked half asleep, with their brightly coloured blinds and curtains drawn as if their eyes were still closed. Some early birds were awake – she could see them out on their balconies eating their breakfasts – but apart from a few stragglers the beach itself was almost deserted. The view changed every day, but it didn’t matter whether it was rainy, misty, windy or blazing sunshine, it made her smile so much. God, she could look out on it forever.

  Her commute was another thing that had changed in the last year; fifty minutes and three trains to get to her jewellery shop in London compared to a ten-minute walk along the beach now.

  Her brother Matthew’s death had affected her life so much and not just because of the gaping hole he had left behind. After relocating to Sandcastle Bay the year before to help her sister Isla with raising Matthew’s son, her life had changed beyond recognition. She was happier here than she had been for a long time. Life was slower here, quieter, giving her a peace she never knew she needed growing up in London. And she got to look at this magnificent view every day. Everyone looked out for each other here and maybe, at times, they came across as nosy and interfering, but she wouldn’t change them for the world.

  Suddenly remembering that she was already running late, she hurried along the shore with Rocky yapping at the gentle waves lapping onto the sand. Of course, running her own jewellery shop, she didn’t have a boss to answer to; opening and closing hours were very relaxed in Sandcastle Bay, with various shops opening whenever they saw fit. But even though she knew he wouldn’t care – he was very laid-back – she didn’t want to be late for Jamie.

  Melody smiled as she spotted Jamie waiting for her on the beach just ahead, her heart leaping into her chest. He was definitely a reason to make her smile.

  She saw Sirius,
the puppy Jamie had rescued from the same litter as Rocky, tail wagging furiously, straining at the lead as he spotted his brother. All the puppies had found homes in the village of Sandcastle Bay after two strays, Beauty and Beast, had eleven puppies a few months before. There was a definite theme with Jamie’s animals; he had three other dogs, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger – although he only ever used their full names when they were in trouble – and not forgetting his pet turkey called Dobby, all named after the characters in Jamie’s favourite book.

  Rocky yelped with excitement at seeing his brother and pulled her hard towards Jamie and Sirius. Despite his age, Rocky was a lot bigger than the average puppy and already really strong.

  ‘Hi,’ Melody said.

  Jamie opened his mouth to speak but the puppies went into a wild frenzy, as if it hadn’t been just a few days since the last time they’d met.

  Sirius darted round the back of Jamie and Rocky chased him round the other side, so Melody was yanked hard against Jamie’s chest.

  His hand went to her waist to steady her, his touch making her pulse race.

  ‘Hello,’ Jamie laughed, his grey eyes gentle.

  Her breath caught in her throat at being this close to him, reminding her of that night over a year before. The night of her brother’s funeral, she’d gotten drunk in her grief for Matthew and Jamie had looked after her. When he’d escorted her back to the hotel she had been staying at, she had kissed him and, for a glorious, perfect few seconds, he had kissed her back. Well it had felt like he had; she had been drunk and upset and maybe she’d imagined it. Maybe he had actually been politely trying to extricate himself from her arms. There had never been any mention of it since. His lack of response to the kiss felt like a rejection, making her think that any feelings between them had been completely one-sided. When she had first moved to Sandcastle Bay a few weeks later, it had been embarrassing and awkward between them.

  But over the last few months they had grown close as they had raised the puppies together. She felt so comfortable and at ease with him now. Recently, he had grown increasingly tactile too, hugging her, touching her when he was talking – she’d even had a kiss on the cheek from him on Saturday when they had parted ways for the remainder of the weekend. This affection and their closeness had given her hope that there was something between them that might be more than just friendship.

  That was the big plan for this morning. She was going to ask him out.

  She had come to a decision over the weekend that she wasn’t going to pine after him any more. She had rehearsed what she was going to say in her head and out loud to Rocky, who had seemed quite receptive to it. She had thought about all the possible scenarios and come up with different responses. This was it. Today was going to be the day.

  Elsie West from the chemist walked past with Mary Nightingale from the post office and they both looked at her in Jamie’s arms, waggling their eyebrows, nudging each other and giggling. No doubt the whole village would hear about this by lunch time, and certainly in the next few seconds they would be on the phone to Jamie’s crazy aunt Agatha, who liked to be kept apprised of all village gossip. But knowing this did nothing to make Melody want to step back, to move away from him.

  She turned her attention back to him. He had such kind eyes, grey with sparks of silver and blue.

  His gaze cast over her face and his eyes clouded with concern. ‘Have you been crying?’

  ‘What? No. What makes you think that?’

  ‘You have mascara smeared under your eyes.’

  Oh crap.

  She quickly wiped under her eyes, cursing that she hadn’t bothered to check her reflection after she had wiped off the mascara.

  ‘Oh, I’m just rubbish at putting on my make-up.’

  ‘And you, um… have jam on your chin,’ Jamie said, his lips quirking up into a smirk.

  So much for making a good impression. She reached up to wipe it off and Jamie slid his hand up to the other side of her face, using his thumb to gently wipe away the jam. Oh lord, maybe getting jam on her face was actually a good thing.

  Rocky suddenly yanked on the lead again, pulling her from Jamie’s touch as Rocky chased Sirius across the sand.

  Jamie laughed. ‘I think it’s time we took these pups to dog training classes, teach them a few manners. Here, let me take your rucksack for you.’

  He slid it from her shoulder before she could protest and started walking towards Starfish Court as if nothing had happened, as if something hadn’t just passed between them. Maybe it hadn’t.

  She searched for a topic of conversation while she tried to calm her heart and pluck up the courage to finally ask him out.

  ‘How are you doing with your idea for the Great Sculptures in the Sand Festival?’ Melody asked, finally finding a nice safe topic. She had missed the festival last year as she had gone away on a two-week holiday with her sister Isla and her nephew Elliot, but this year she was really looking forward to it. The festival kicked off on Saturday with the Great Sandcastle Building Competition, which was only a bit of fun but apparently the villagers got very competitive about it. And come Sunday night there would be hundreds of sculptures filling the length of Sunshine Beach, all of various shapes, sizes and materials. There were going to be lots of different foods and crafts stalls on the beach throughout the day and then the official unveiling of the sculptures was going to happen at sunset, when there would be fireworks, music, dancing and a barbeque with a hog roast after. Everyone in the village was expected to contribute and people from the nearby towns and villages were making sculptures too.

  He paused before he answered, then seemed to change his mind. ‘What are you making?’

  ‘I have no idea, I’m not the least bit practical or creative when it comes to something like this. Give me a necklace, bracelet, ring or brooch to work on and I could do something beautiful. But something big like this, I’ve got no idea. How big does it have to be?’

  ‘Minimum of two feet.’

  ‘God, that’s huge. I don’t even know what I’m going to make it out of.’

  ‘What about using sea glass? Then it captures a little bit of you and your style too. I’ve seen some of your sea glass jewellery and it’s stunning. The sculpture doesn’t have to be anything 3D. It could be flat. A mosaic of your most loved thing in Sandcastle Bay. I would think it’s easier for you to find what your favourite thing is, you haven’t been here that long, so everything is still new and fresh for you. I imagine many of the locals look at it through jaded eyes. What do you love most about Sandcastle Bay?’

  This, thought Melody, walking along Sunshine Beach every day with the man she loved.

  ‘Oh god, probably the sea,’ she said instead.

  ‘Well, that’s easy, you could just do a mosaic of some waves.’ He drew the pattern of some pointy, curly waves in the air with his finger, evidently able to visualise how it would look in his head already, while what Melody was imagining was no doubt something far less amazing. Jamie probably had very high expectations for her waves.

  ‘What are you making?’ Melody said, changing the subject away from what would probably turn out to be very disappointing for him when he saw it.

  ‘I started mine weeks ago. When I thought about the theme, there was only one thing I wanted to make, but I’m not sure it’s really in keeping with the spirit of the festival. I’m not sure if I’m actually going to submit it to the competition.’

  ‘What’s it going to be?’

  He grinned. ‘That would spoil the surprise.’

  She laughed, and their fingers innocently brushed together. She longed to slide her hand into his and she wondered what he would make of that if she did. She glanced down and wondered if his skin would be soft or rough from years of working with clay.

  ‘The sculptures are meant to be things we love the most about Sandcastle Bay,’ Melody said, forcing her eyes away from where their hands were nearly touching.

  ‘Yes, the thing I’m m
aking meets that criteria.’

  ‘Then what’s the problem?’

  He looked down at her as they walked. ‘Because I think people will do sculptures of the ice cream parlour or the famous heartberries or Sunshine Beach or something obvious like that, whereas my sculpture is going to be very… personal.’

  ‘Everyone will interpret that theme in their own ways. Your sculpture is supposed to be the thing that you love the most, not anyone else. You need to listen to your heart.’

  He nodded. ‘You’re right, but I worry what people will think of it.’

  ‘When have you ever cared about what people will think?’ Melody said. Jamie sometimes came across as quiet and sensitive but when it came down to his sculptures he always created the pieces he wanted to make, rather than bowing down to what was popular or fashionable. His sculptures were unique and special, and she loved that he felt free enough to do that.

  ‘I care about what you think,’ Jamie said, quietly and she looked up into his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat again. Why did he care what she thought?

  ‘I love your sculptures, you’re so talented. Why would you care what I think of this one?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Well, you’ll see soon enough. I don’t know if the plan was ever to submit this sculpture. I think it was always just for me. But maybe, if I’m brave enough, I’ll let you see it and, if you like it, I’ll submit it to the competition.’

  He paused to take a photo of a happy-looking elderly lady, paddling barefoot in the sea, her long skirt held up to her knees. He fired off a few more shots from different angles. He was always taking pictures; people, scenery, nature, animals. They all helped to inspire his work. A few weeks before he had taken a photo of her dancing on the beach with her nephew Elliot. Though quite how that was going to inspire him, she didn’t know.