That Special Something: A heartwarming, small town romance to fall in love with

Eleven

‘Hello Hope,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘I was planning to come and see you soon but this is even better. I always wonder if I might bump into you on one of my visits home, but I didn’t expect to see you on this beach at this time of night. I assume that is your dog. So how have you been?’

Hope finally found her voice. ‘How … how have I been? Are you being serious? It’s been eight years, Rob.’

He had broken her heart at university, when he’d told her he would not be returning to Betancourt Bay, but was instead going to travel the world for a year or two, working as he went to support himself and to enable him to move on to the next destination. That was eight years ago.

Hope was fully aware that he had been back a few times since to visit his parents, Jean and Victor Mills who lived in Rosehip Cottage, but those visits had been fleeting and he’d never once made time to knock on the front door of The White House and say hello to her.

A tiny furrow formed between his brows. ‘Eight years? Yes, I suppose it has. But it doesn’t feel that long.’

Hope wanted to scream, ‘It does to me!’ Instead she said, ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’

He tilted his head to one side. ‘You or me? It hasn’t all been fun, you know. I’ve had to work along the way. There’ve been one or two close shaves with dangerous creatures, both animal and human. And I’ve missed you, Hope. More than I thought I would. I must say, you’re looking stunning. If I’d known you’d look this good I would’ve come home sooner. That was a joke. You always looked good. I’ve wanted to come to your house so many times over the years, Hope. But I knew I couldn’t. If I saw you again I knew I’d want to stay and I couldn’t do that to myself. I needed to get the wanderlust out of my system before I could think of settling down. I hope you understand that. But God I’ve thought of you so often. I can’t believe it’s eight years and I still haven’t got over you.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘What about you, Hope? Have you got over me?’

He moved closer and slipped a hand around her waist, easing her towards him until their faces almost touched.

Why couldn’t she speak? Why couldn’t she push him away?

‘No. Not entirely,’ she whispered.

Why hadn’t she lied?

The smile spread across his face and he tilted her chin upwards with one finger of his free hand then he traced a line from her chin to her lips, across her left cheek and then down to her neck.

‘You have no idea how happy that makes me,’ he said, his voice thick with pent up desire.

‘Rob,’ she said. ‘It’s been eight years.’ She had meant to chastise him but it had sounded more like a plea, even to her ears. What on earth was wrong with her?

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. We can make up for lost time, Hope, and we’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us.’

His lips came down on hers and the kiss was intense. At least on his part. He kissed her hard and held her so tight that she felt her bones might break. If this was gentle, she wouldn’t want to experience the opposite.

‘God, Hope,’ he groaned as he slid his lips across her mouth. ‘You can still turn me on in a split second. I want you so much, it hurts.’ And then he kissed her again in a way that made it clear he was hoping for a great deal more than kissing.