A Summer of Love at Saffron Bay (Saffron Bay #3)
1. Chapter One
Chapter One
Someone shifted beside her in the bed. May groaned. Not again. She was supposed to be keeping her head down. As she squeezed her eyes tight, she tried to remember the events of the night before. The stranger snored gently, oblivious to her presence in his bed.
Come on, come on. May willed her mind to clear away the fog of her hangover.
At some point the previous evening she had become separated from Amy.
Had Amy had enough and gone home early? Had they had a falling-out?
Was that why May had gone on to another pub alone?
She hoped not. Amy’s sofa had been her home for the last two weeks, and May couldn’t afford to burn any more bridges.
There were still a few days before her planned arrival in Saffron Bay, and she couldn’t turn up early.
It would only arouse Alice’s suspicions, and with her big sister’s wedding only weeks away, the last thing May wanted was to stress her more than she was already bound to be.
A hazy memory flooded back. Behind her closed eyelids, May pictured herself walking into the grimmest pub in Plymouth.
There had been a handful of local men at the bar who jeered at her as she ordered her vodka and tonic.
But how did the man beside her fit into it all?
He must have already been in the bar. She definitely walked in alone.
May tapped the heel of her palm against her forehead, surfacing an image of a gorgeous man sitting alone, nursing a pint. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself stagger over to him – then everything went blank.
‘You’re supposed to be turning things around,’ she muttered to herself, hardly daring to move her head. No doubt the man’s gorgeousness had been seen through beer goggles, and the reality was bound to be a disappointment.
Gingerly, May pulled back the duvet and eased herself out of the bed. The man stirred, and she froze. Only when his snoring resumed did she creep around, gathering up her clothes from the floor.
It wasn’t until she was fully dressed and slipping her feet into her shoes that she risked a look.
Hmm. This man was unlike any of her previous conquests.
For starters, even with half his face pressed into a pillow, May could tell he was a catch.
He was lying on his front, his bronzed, toned arms folded beneath his chin.
A single thick black curl had fallen over his closed eye, as though an artist had placed it there, posing him for a portrait.
Well, this was a turn-up for the books. For the first time in her life, a one-night stand had turned out to be more handsome than at the time she agreed to go home with him.
She stood watching him for a moment. He had the faintest hint of crow’s feet around his eyes, but his hair was still jet black, and May guessed he wasn’t older than twenty-five.
At least he didn’t look younger than she did.
She still hadn’t shaken off the shame of hooking up with a sixth-former while in her second year of university.
May tore her weary eyes away from the man in the bed and noticed her surroundings for the first time.
The room she was in was impersonal – posh, but in an old-grandeur sort of way.
There was no question it was a hotel room.
Even if there hadn’t been a tray of teas and coffees on a wood-effect sideboard, there was no mistaking the room for someone’s home.
May had hoped to get a sense of the man from his environment, but it was impossible.
The room held no clues about the man sleeping in the bed, other than a battered guitar case propped against one wall and a leather jacket hanging on the back of a chair.
May crept into the bathroom, but after catching her reflection in the mirror, crept straight back out again. She was desperate to pee, but there was no way she could risk the stranger waking up and seeing her.
Her eyeliner had smudged halfway down her cheeks. Her bobbed black hair was sticking up as if someone had plopped a bird’s nest on the top of her head. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the colour of her skin somewhere between green and grey.
With a quiet click, she closed the bathroom door and crept across the room. Her fingers were wrapped around the doorknob when a voice made her jump.
‘Leaving so soon? Will you not even stay for breakfast?’
The voice was muffled by the pillow its owner was speaking into, but there was no mistaking the Irish accent.
Gorgeous and Irish? May couldn’t think of a more dangerous combination.
Before the man could utter another word, she yanked the door open, slammed it behind her and sprinted down the corridor towards where she hoped she’d find a lift.
As she ran, she tried to remember his name. Ewan? Ian? William?
May skidded to a stop and walked into a waiting lift, only relaxing once the doors opened onto a ground-floor reception area.
‘Excuse me, miss.’ A smartly dressed receptionist hurried towards her. ‘We’re experiencing a slight incident by the front entrance, so I’ll need you to leave via the staff quarters if you don’t mind.’
‘Incident?’ asked May, standing on tiptoes to look over the receptionist’s head. She could make out a crowd of mostly young women trying to storm the hotel doors. ‘Is it some sort of protest?’
The receptionist laughed as she gently took hold of May’s elbow and guided her along a dingy corridor.
‘No, not a protest. A group of hormonal teenagers losing their minds over their favourite pop star. I hate it when famous people stay here. They’re mostly stupidly demanding, and the chaos they bring with them isn’t worth the hassle. ’
May didn’t bother to ask who the pop star was.
She was guaranteed not to recognise the name unless they were from one of her favourite metal bands or had risen to fame before the turn of the millennium.
The girls she’d spotted trying to force their way into the hotel were pink and fluffy, not grungy and spiky.
There was no way they shared May’s musical tastes.
She wore her lack of interest in popular culture as a badge of honour and, anyway, she had bigger things to worry about than going weak at the knees over some pretty boy.
‘Here we are.’ The receptionist opened a fire door onto a grim-looking car park lined with rubbish bins. ‘I hope you enjoyed your stay, and I apologise for the inconvenience.’
‘No problem,’ said May, unable to remember much about her un-planned stay. But as she headed into the city in search of a toilet and a strong coffee, she found the image of the handsome man lying in bed was seared on her mind.