Chapter Seventeen #2
Worried she was gawping at his body, she was about to look away but realised that he was doing the exact same thing and that her sundress must also be plastered to every contour of her body.
She was cold, too, and he – and half the beach – must be able to see everything.
In fact, she became aware of people staring and pointing.
‘Hope my phone hasn’t been nicked,’ Matt said gruffly and jogged over to his boots to retrieve it.
‘Yeah.’ She heaved a sigh of relief. Given the choice, she’d rather she was soaked than her phone. Even so, they had quite the trudge through town ahead of them.
‘Now we have to walk back to the office,’ she said, trying not to fixate on Matt’s chest and nipples.
‘There are worse things,’ he said. ‘I have some work clothes in the van.’
‘I don’t … I think I might still have a bag of charity clothes in my car.’
‘If not, I can probably loan you a painting overall until you get back to your flat.’ He grinned wickedly.
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
They squelched back, Zennor braving the stares at her soaking dress. Matt had taken off his vest and walked bare-chested through town, a sight which wasn’t lost on many of the admiring tourists.
Zennor dried off in the staff loo using the hand towel and changed into some ripped jeans and a too-small T-shirt she’d planned on donating to charity. She had a choice of wet knickers or to do without and chose the latter, hoping Matt wouldn’t realise.
It felt incredibly … daring to be in Matt’s presence without any underwear. Weird. Transgressive. Sexy. Wrong.
Matt waited outside in his shorts, having thrown his damp vest in the van before using the same towel and emerging in a pair of work trousers and a paint-spattered T-shirt. The thought occurred to Zennor that he was probably commando too, a realisation that sent a shiver of desire through her.
His hair was already almost dry while hers was still wet and probably looked like rat’s tails.
Although the way Matt was staring at her didn’t make her feel like he thought she looked a mess.
His tongue was almost hanging out. And what a tongue, Zennor thought, remembering a night on the beach a million years ago.
She cursed herself. ‘Lucky I hadn’t donated this old stuff yet. I hope a customer doesn’t come in and see me in this state.’
‘Why?’ His gaze raked over her, leaving a sizzling trail wherever it landed. ‘I think you look great.’
‘Like this?’ She laughed in amazement. ‘Are you winding me up?’
He shook his head. ‘I mean it, Zennor. You look – lovely. Not everything I say and do has some ulterior motive.’
His words stopped her in her tracks because he was right. She viewed him through the lens of the past, always wary of his motivations and analysing his every word. He must be on edge as much as she was.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘And I don’t mean to create friction between us. It’s just – this is all so unexpected. You appearing in my life again. Trev coming back. I thought I’d left the past behind but it’s caught up with me again.’
‘I swear I never intended to ambush you. Tyler’s dad genuinely needed my help and as for helping the Surf Club … Grandad’s passing triggered that.’
She nodded. There was a sincerity in his tone that couldn’t be doubted.
‘Oh, Matt, I believe you. I didn’t at first but I do now. Loss – of any kind – does make you reassess your life and want to make changes.’
He moved closer. ‘It makes me feel a whole lot better to know you don’t think I came back out of some twisted sense of malice or spite.’
She shook her head. ‘You’re not malicious.’
‘You once thought so. I don’t blame you but I was young then. Young and stupid and reckless. I am sorry.’
He looked down at her and lifted his hand and she knew he was going to touch her – not accidentally but in a deliberate, tender way that she wouldn’t be able to resist.
His fingers brushed her cheek. She allowed herself to lock eyes with his, luxuriating in the sensation of his skin on hers, featherlight yet powerful enough to ignite a fire in the core of her body.
He leaned in and she told herself that, any second now, she was going to pull back in the nick of time – but first she had to feel his lips against hers.
They were warm and insistent. He tasted of salt and sweetness and memories buried so deep within her she’d thought they were lost. His hands rested lightly at her waist and she knew that she wasn’t going to pull back.
Her phone rang.
She ignored it and kissed him back. He held her, his fingers at the nape of her neck, urging her deeper into the kiss.
The phone kept ringing, on and on, demanding she answer it. Why hadn’t her answerphone kicked in? Was it a sign?
Coming to her senses, she stepped back shakily, as if she’d woken too quickly from a dream. ‘I h-have to get this.’
With a groan, he raked his hands through his hair and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
Zennor’s fingers were not steady as she picked up her phone.
She didn’t recognise the number. What had she been thinking?
Who knew what might have – would probably have – happened if she hadn’t stopped.
If she’d given way to her hormones, which were going off like the New Year fireworks in St Ives.
As she tried to pull herself together, her phone stopped ringing.
‘I – um – must call it back. It might be a client. Something urgent.’
‘It won’t be,’ Matt murmured.
She turned her back on him, unwilling to see the disappointment etched on his features and trying to control the desire that still surged through her own body.
The number rang out and a woman answered. ‘Penzance Urgent Treatment Centre.’
Zennor almost dropped the phone. ‘Oh. I have a missed call from you. I’m Zennor Smith.’
‘Ah. Oh, yes. I’m Magda, one of the senior nurses. Your friend, Sybil Brandon, is here. She’s had a fall and she’s in our urgent care centre. Would you mind coming over as soon as you can?’