The Cornish Beach Hut Café

Chapter 41

41

At The Hideaway

Apple cake and shorthand notes

Monday

T wo days later, it’s late morning, and as I shake clouds of icing sugar over two raspberry and cream Victoria sponges and cut up a tray of Bakewell tart blondies I’ve made to take to the hotel I’m secretly congratulating myself on the complete lack of fallout from Saturday. I’ve moved on so far I’m actually thinking about my Barbie outfit for the fancy dress on the promenade, kicking myself for leaving my roller skates in storage, and hoping my neon-pink cycling shorts will still fit over my bum, when my phone pings with a message from Nell.

Yay to you and Kit! X

I message straight back.

What’s that? x

One more ping is all it takes to blow my comfort bubble into a million pieces.

You’re such hot news the St Aidan grapevine is melting. I’m claiming you two as another singles club success. Xx

I let out a sigh and type.

If we ever get to the exclusivity convo, I’ll be sure to let you know. Xx

If we’re as out there as this, I may need to check in with Kit. Since Saturday any spare moment we’ve been so engrossed in our own blend of blissful sex and eating ice cream in bed there’s been no time to waste on everyday details.

I take his favourite pudding cup off the shelf, cube a piece of blondie, open the fridge and send him a message of his own.

Are you around for a quick sweet tasting? Xx

He pings straight back.

Appointment in thirty, I’ll eat fast. Xx

Two minutes later, Shadow’s skidding to a halt by the studio desk, and I’m putting Kit’s mug down and being swept into a dizzying snog that I only emerge from a good three minutes later.

‘I didn’t know you had clients today?’

He picks up his dessert, takes a spoonful of raspberry ripple ice cream and closes his eyes as it melts in his mouth. ‘It’s only someone dropping by for a preliminary chat.’

I let him slip a lump of blondie into my mouth, then swallow and brace myself to say what I’m here for. ‘Saturday was quite full-on – I hope me accidentally ticking the publicity box wasn’t too much for you?’

He grins. ‘Those first nights under the stars were very special, but we can’t hope to stay undercover indefinitely.’

I sigh. ‘Nell messaged earlier to say the news is all over St Aidan.’

He laughs. ‘I hope they include that we were allegedly entirely starkers!’

‘It’s way worse than that! They’re pretty much calling us a couple.’

He pulls me into a hug. ‘As if we’d give a damn what other people say! What matters is that we’re happy with what we have.’

I can’t help my panic. ‘But neither of us wants any more than a one-night stand!’

He’s rubbing his thumb on his chin. ‘At the moment that’s true, but it’s not inconceivable things may change.’

‘What? Gossip turning into a self-fulfilling prophecy?’ That’s too weird to even think about.

When he starts again, he’s looking at me really hard. ‘You are happy, Floss?’

Obviously, there’s the part where I can’t keep my hands off him, and due to my situation I can’t bear to look beyond the moment we’re in because this can only ever be temporary. But within those tiny bites of time, whatever we’re doing he makes me feel so comfortable and cared for and alive. He’s so kind and hot and easy to be around and he makes me come all the time. When we’re together I never want it to end, and when he goes, I can’t wait to see him again. I know we’re only taking it a nanosecond at a time, but each of those is filled with the kind of burst of pure joy that I’ve never really known before.

‘Very.’ It only seems fair to try to describe it. ‘The kind of happy Shadow would be if he found a catering-size box of Teatime Assorted with the lid off, and I told him to eat every biscuit.’ I take a moment to let that sink in, because the more I think about it, the more I realise I’d hate it if he didn’t want to carry on. ‘And you?’

He pulls a face. ‘I’m the kind of happy Rye would be if you made him a brownie stack that reached to the ceiling.’

I can’t hold my grin back. ‘So minute by minute we’re both all good.’ As for things changing, he seemed pretty certain he wouldn’t ever be up for being in a relationship again and nothing will ever be different for me – so if we both want warm nights with no thought for the future, we should be a perfect match. ‘So what are you saying?’

He considers. ‘How about we ignore the rest of the world and talk again when summer’s over?’

I nod. ‘October’s so distant it’s as comfortable as infinity, isn’t it?’

I’m so pleased we’re still on the same page with this. All the soul-searching I’ve done, and I’d never even considered a ‘friends with temporary benefits’ model, which seems to be where we are now.

As I wait for Kit to finish his mouthful and agree, I’m looking out of the side window, idly watching a figure in brogues and a navy suit. It’s only as he comes closer that two things become obvious: he’s heading for the studio, and I know who he is. I let out a cry. ‘I know it’s his hotel, but what the hell is David Byron doing here? ’

Kit looks at his watch. ‘He’s my one o’clock and he’s early.’ He blows out a breath. ‘I was going to tell you about it.’

I hear myself shrieking. ‘No! You absolutely mustn’t. Whatever he’s here for is completely confidential. Whatever it is, I really don’t want to know! ’

I call Shadow, dive past the kitchen, and a moment later we’re out through the side door and heading back to The Hideaway.