A hand was touching her shoulder. “Summer? Are you OK? Are you hurt?”
Was it possible to summon somebody just by thinking about them? Surely not? Summer knew she should keep her eyes closed: if she opened them and looked him in the face and saw again that look of indifference, she didn’t think she could bear it. As it was, just hearing the concern in this familiar voice hit her right in the solar plexus. Seeing his scorn would be far more painful than her throbbing eye.
Reluctantly, Summer opened her heavy lids. Sure enough Jake Tremaine was crouched down beside her. One look into those eyes, blue with flecks of navy just like the Cornish sea beyond, was all it took to make the past disappear. He was still so ridiculously handsome that she could hardly breathe. She’d only seen him briefly on the quay, where the light had been fading and shadows had been pooling over them, but now in the sunlight she could see that he was just as beautiful as she remembered.
It wasn’t that Jake was film-star perfect. No, from what she remembered it was Danny who’d had the monopoly on the male-model looks in the family. She noticed as well that Jake’s nose still had the bump in it from when he’d broken it wakeboarding. Even now the memory of all that blood was enough to make her feel queasy! He was unshaven, too, and his curly corn-coloured hair was a little too long. But somehow, with Jake, all these things came together perfectly. His strongly boned face, the broad shoulders, the well-muscled arms and legs, and the way that he always inspired absolute confidence – all of these traits made Summer tremble way more than Justin’s fists ever could.
Jake was scanning her face and frowning. “How on earth did you do that to your eye?”
Summer’s hand rose to her bruise. In her haste to get outside and stretch her legs she’d forgotten to put her shades on. Big mistake.
“I’m fine,” she told him quickly. “It’s nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing to me, Sums. Have you seen a doctor?”
The use of the old nickname made her inhale sharply. His hand was gently moving hers aside, his fingers skimming over the swollen flesh as his eyes narrowed. Shivers that were nothing to do with pain rippled across her body. Oh Lord. One touch from Jake had always been all it took. Summer didn’t know whether to be horrified or reassured that even as a teenager her taste in men had been spot on. She knew it had been downhill ever since.
“It’s nothing, honestly,” she insisted, snapping her head away from his hand. She missed her long hair now. It would have saved a lot of curious looks and awkward questions if she’d been able to hide the bruising beneath it.
“As I said, it doesn’t look like nothing to me.” Concern furrowed Jake’s brow. “Your eye’s closing up and I bet it hurts like hell. I should know. I’ve been punched enough times; it comes with having four brothers.”
“I’ve not been punched. I tripped and walloped my head,” Summer said swiftly, knowing she’d better scotch any such rumours right away. Justin’s lawyers would make mincemeat of her if they thought she’d been badmouthing him. It didn’t matter if what she said was the truth; in their circles Summer knew that it was always the partner with the most cash and the best lawyer who came out of a relationship whiter than the laundry in a Daz commercial.
Jake was clearly not buying this for a second. “Right. If you say so.”
Summer squared her shoulders. “I do say so. I’m fine.”
He raised an eyebrow, those compelling eyes holding her in a searching look. Summer looked away first.
“Evidently,” he remarked drily. “Still, being fine always was your forte, wasn’t it? Forgive me for just being concerned. I was going to say that my friend Richard’s one of the GPs here. I know it’s Sunday, but I’m sure he’d be happy to look at that for you, if you like? He’s a good guy. I think you’d like him.”
Of course. A doctor called Richard: Kursa’s son, most likely. Sometimes Summer forgot what a small world Polwenna Bay was. It was like living in an episode of Doc Martin.
“I’ll be OK,” she insisted.
There was silence. Then Jake shrugged. “Whatever you say then. It’s up to you. Catch you around maybe.”
He stepped away and began to head back to the cliff path. He was in running gear, Summer realised, and he was in good shape too. Better, if anything, than when he was eighteen. With his broad shoulders, strong legs and lean hips, Jake was definitely a man now – and a very attractive one. It should be a relief that he’d moved away from her, but Summer couldn’t help feeling a stab of regret. They’d once been so close and now they were further apart than strangers.
“Thank you,” she called after him, before she could stop herself. “You didn’t have to stop and see if I was all right. Especially after yesterday.”
Jake turned around slowly. “I wouldn’t walk past any woman who looked as though she was in trouble,” he told her. “And as for yesterday, forget it. Mo still has a fiery temper but she’s calmed down now.”
Summer nodded. She was glad to hear it. “I know it was a shock for you both to see me again. Don’t worry. I won’t stick around for long enough to make life difficult.”
Jake’s gaze drifted to the bruising on her face and for a moment he looked as though he was about to say something, before thinking better of it.
“Like I said before, stay as long as you need to. It makes no odds to me. Besides, I think you’ll find that Mo will be far too busy waging war on the local property developer to worry about you. She’s probably boiling oil and cranking up the siege engine as we speak. Christ, I’m almost sorry for Ashley Carstairs.”
She laughed. “He should definitely watch out. Mo on a mission is a force of nature. The memory of Ella St Milton without her ponytail will stay with me forever!”
Jake grimaced. “God, I’d forgotten that. Her mum went mad.” He paused, and then deadpanned, “Mo hasn’t been near you with the scissors too, has she?”
They looked at each other for a second before they both convulsed with mirth. That was one of the things she’d loved about being with Jake, Summer recalled: they’d laughed and laughed until the tears had rolled down their cheeks and their sides had ached. She’d never laughed like that with Justin, or much at all if the truth were told.
“Your friend Richard’s mum did this,” Summer explained once she’d got her breath back. “I needed a… a change of look.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot into his thick blond curls. “You must have been desperate! They say Cornwall Council cuts the hedges straighter than Kursa Penwarren cuts hair.”
Summer ran a hand through her shorn locks. “She did me a huge favour. I won’t hear a word against her.”
“Fair enough. It suits you, actually. It makes your eyes look enormous, like a beautiful manga character.”
Summer stared at him, taken aback, and Jake coloured.
“Listen to me! I spend far too much time with my nephew. A manga character? I need to get out more.”
“I quite like the idea of being a manga cartoon girl,” Summer said quickly, touched by his red face. She’d forgotten how easily Jake could be teased. “I could do ninja moves and fight villains.” Yes, that would come in very handy when dealing with Justin, she thought privately. “Cowabunga, loser!”
“Cowabunga’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” said Jake pityingly. “Typical girl. Just be a Pink Power Ranger or something.”
“Pink?” Summer gasped in mock outrage. “Still a sexist Polwenna man then?”
“Oh aye, proper job, maid!” nodded Jake in a thick West Country accent, and they smiled at each other. The tensions of earlier had vanished. Maybe they could still be friends, Summer thought hopefully. After all, they were both adults now. It might be nice.
He held out his hand to her.
“Now, my lover, would ’ee loike a proper Cornish pasty?”
Impulsively, Summer placed her palm in his and allowed Jake to pull her to her feet. Her hand seemed to recall his exactly; it was just as big and as strong as she remembered. Alar
med by the tingling sensation in her fingers, she pulled her hand away as quickly as she could, but not before the flicker of surprise on Jake’s face told her that he had felt it too.
Oh dear. This could be complicated…
“Seriously, my offer stands with or without the silly accent,” Jake was saying quickly, but not quite quickly enough to cover his shocked expression. “I was hung-over to hell this morning and I couldn’t face anything, but I’m starving now. There’s a new tearoom down by the museum if you fancy a coffee? I guess you actress types aren’t allowed to eat much, but if you are tempted they do an amazing steak and stilton pasty.”
Summer looked outraged. “What? Better than Patsy’s Pasties?”
“Of course not! Heaven forbid that such a thing could even be imagined, but they are a very close second. And,” dropping his voice, Jake leaned forward and whispered in her ear, so close that she could feel his breath flute against her skin and smell the tang of hot male sweat, “rumour has it that the tearoom don’t put less filling in just because it’s the holiday season!”
She widened her eyes. “As if Patsy would do that! I’m offended on behalf of the entire Penhalligan clan!”
They convulsed into laughter again. Having spent a season working together in the kitchen of the pasty shop, Summer and Jake were under no illusions as to what tricks of the trade were employed to ensure maximum profits.
When their mirth faded away, Jake turned to stare down at her for a moment.
“Will you come for a coffee?” he asked softly. “As friends?”
And Summer, in spite of everything, found that she couldn’t say no.
***
Jake wasn’t usually a violent man, so when he was suddenly hit by a huge surge of murderous rage, it took him totally unawares. Somebody had assaulted Summer – this was as obvious as the huge bruise on her otherwise flawless face – and he wanted to kill whoever it was. She was absolutely tiny, thinner now and frailer than she’d been as a teenager, and doubtless no match for the coward who’d done this to her. Still, she’d made it more than clear that the subject wasn’t up for discussion, so he’d forced himself to swallow back his rising fury. His muscles were tense with anger but for now there was nothing he could do except respect her wishes and step right away from the topic. He knew that Summer was nothing to do with him anymore and that he had no right to feel this rage or to want to protect her, but it was as instinctive to him as breathing.
Right then and there, as they strolled down the hill back into the village, Jake knew he would do anything to stop Summer ever being hurt again. He wanted to track down whoever had done this to her and make sure once and for all that they never, ever managed to do it again. By the time he was finished with the culprit, they’d be lucky to eat through a straw for the rest of their life.
Christ. The strength of his fury terrified Jake. Did feeling like this make him as bad as the bastard who’d done this to her in the first place? That was a thought he’d rather not address, and he pushed it away quickly.
Summer, oblivious to the wild runaway train of thought gathering speed in Jake’s mind, was chatting away easily. She seemed happy to talk about the people they both knew in common, and somehow Jake managed to calm down enough to fill her in a little on new arrivals and changes. Lending her his sunglasses also helped: with the violent purple and red bruise hidden from view, he was able to simmer down a little. Once they were seated at one of the tables overlooking the harbour and enjoying pasties the size of their heads, Jake was feeling more like his usual self.
“My career as a model will be over very fast if I stay here too long.” Summer looked at her pasty with an alarmed expression.
“You look great,” Jake told her. “A bit too thin, if anything, so nothing to worry about on the pasty front. Go on, get stuck in.”
To his great surprise Summer did get stuck in. The pasty was wolfed down in almost record time and Jake, who was used to girls like Ella who picked at the odd lettuce leaf while drooling at the mere sight of his steak and chips, was impressed. Putting her knife and fork down with a clatter, Summer placed her hands on her stomach and groaned.
“Oh God, that was wonderful,” she said. There was a flake of pastry on her full top lip and he was suddenly struck with the compulsion to lean across the table and kiss it away. He swallowed and pretended to be fascinated by the frothy surface of his coffee. When he was eventually able to look up again, Summer was dabbing her mouth with a napkin and the moment had fortunately passed. Jake couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed.
They sipped their lattes in companionable silence while watching the living picture of the harbour shift and kaleidoscope in front of them. The trawlers were all out and the tide had followed, leaving a pale sickle of lemon-coloured beach behind. Seagulls bobbed in the shallows, and on the quay a tall man stood gazing out to sea, his dark jacket lifting in the breeze. Even from here, he had a brooding look about him.
Danny was up then, Jake thought. That was another difficult conversation he was going to have to negotiate. Along with getting his father to face up to the fact that the family finances were about to implode, and trying to stop Mo from flattening Cashley with her four-by-four. When had life become so complex?
He glanced at Summer, who had closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun. With her delicate stem-like neck and tendrils of hair curling against her cheeks like petals, she reminded him of a rare orchid. Hanging out with Summer had always been easy, Jake recalled, and being with her had never been complicated, which had only made what happened later on even harder to accept. He sighed in resignation. As his gran had said, it was a long time ago and they were both different people now. Summer had a whole life in London that he knew nothing about; she was friends with A-list celebrities, for heaven’s sake. It was time to let the past go. Life was simpler that way.
But leading a simple life free of complications was far easier said than done when you lived in a small Cornish fishing village. Just as Jake had collected and was about to pay for two more coffees, none other than Ella St Milton came sauntering over to the counter. She looked as though she’d stepped straight out of a salon rather than been up until the small hours winding herself around him like a sexy octopus and downing vodkas with him. No wonder the girl needed coffee. If she’d felt half as bad as he had earlier on, then it was a marvel that she was even walking, let alone bright-eyed and full of beans.
Here was a thought, though: had Ella actually been drinking? Jake racked his brains and couldn’t remember whether or not he’d seen Ella with any alcohol last night, after that first glass of wine. She’d certainly been buying a lot of drinks, but whether or not she’d been indulging too was anyone’s guess.
Jake was hoping that Ella wouldn’t spot him, but when it came to the hotelier it was as though he had some kind of homing beacon. When she caught sight of him, Ella’s gaze brightened momentarily; then it flickered to the oblivious Summer, who was still sitting at the table some way away, and her grey eyes narrowed.
“You’ve got company, I see?” she remarked pointedly as she joined Jake at the counter.
“Not really.” Jake fixed his attention on tipping sugar into his latte. Two for the shock of seeing Summer, he decided, and one more to give him the strength to handle whatever abuse Ella was about to hurl at him. Jake knew enough about women to know when he was about to be given a hard time.
“So, you’re too busy to spend time with me but not with her?” Ella’s voice was light but there was a note of hurt beneath the words, and Jake felt bad for that. Last night when he’d sent her home alone he’d claimed that he had lots to do at the marina in the morning. Ella hadn’t bought it then, of course, and she certainly wasn’t buying it now. She was glaring in Summer’s direction. “What the hell is she doing back here anyway? That is Summer over there, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s Summer, and I haven’t a clue why’s she back. I just ran into her on the cliffs. Literally.” Jake indica
ted his sports gear. “As you can see, I’m hardly dressed for a secret assignation with my glamour-model ex. We’re catching up, that’s all. It’s been a long time.”
“Obviously not long enough to get over her. Since when did you take sugar?”
Was there nothing Ella didn’t notice? Her eye for detail made her quite scary, Jake thought. Women. Why were they always so competitive?
“I’ve had an eight-mile run and I need some calories,” he said mildly, stirring his coffee and refusing to rise to her bait. Ella loved drama and he wasn’t going to give her the scene she wanted. To be honest he didn’t care enough about her to waste the energy. “As for your other facetious comment, plenty long enough for that – not that it’s any of your business, Ella. Now, how about you stop making a scene and come and join us over there?”
“No thanks; I’m in a hurry,” Ella said coolly. “Unlike you, I really am busy. In fact, I don’t even think I’ll stick around for a takeaway latte. Three’s a crowd anyway.”
“Ella, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a coffee with an old friend. We’re catching up.”
Not that it’s any of your concern who I drink coffee with, he added silently. Had he led Ella on? Maybe, but he’d never let her think there was any potential of anything serious. Nevertheless, here she was getting all possessive. He was reminded all of a sudden of Granny Alice’s comment about Ella being a determined young woman.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to your catching up, shall I?” said Ella pointedly. “Oh, don’t forget to ask her how Justin Anderson is, will you? Didn’t he have cancer not so long ago? I’d have thought his loving fiancée would be spending every minute with him rather than hanging out with her exes. I wonder if he minds? Or even knows? Maybe somebody should tell him?”
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