Chapter 19 #2
“And then we go to the shops.” I kiss her again, releasing her only because the breakfast is about to burn, and I have a feeling I’m going to need all my energy today.
Claire takes the mats and cutlery outside while I plate up our food, and I join her a few moments later, balancing everything on a tray I found in a drawer.
She claps her hands, laughing, as I put her breakfast in front of her.
“No one has ever made me breakfast before,” she says. “Well, not since…”
“Since Simon?” I regret mentioning him as soon as his name leaves my mouth. But it doesn’t seem to dampen her mood.
“Oh god, no, he didn’t know one end of a spatula from the other. Mmm.” She shovels a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “Where did you learn to cook?” she asks, once she can speak.
I shrug. “It’s just something I like to do to pass the time when I’m travelling the circuit.
I even take cooking classes with local chefs, you know, to learn their cuisine.
” I flush, the back of my neck hot. The guys on the tour ribbed the absolute shit out of me when they learned what I was doing.
But they soon stopped complaining once I started fixing them kick-ass meals.
At first I don’t know how Claire is going to take it, but then I see her face light up.
“You do? That’s awesome. What’s your favourite cuisine?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I like Vietnamese food, I guess. The spice and lemongrass flavours.”
“I like to cook, too,” she says. “Though I doubt I’m as good as you. You must have a nice kitchen at home, wherever that is.”
I shake my head. “Don’t have a home. Not really.”
She doesn’t say anything and I look up to see her staring at me, her lips parted, dark brows drawing together. A look that is puzzled more than anything else, softness in her ocean-deep gaze.
I shrug. “I travel a lot. Never really needed one before. The idea is growing on me now, though.”
“You can use my kitchen,” she says, “whenever you like. All I ask is that you teach me how to cook properly.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” I say with a grin. I mean it, too.
As we keep talking, eating our breakfast, warmth grows within me.
I realise what it is: contentment. It’s a strange feeling.
I don’t mind it at all. Sitting here with my girl, the sea and sky spread out around us, gum trees whispering, sun on my face, I feel happier than I’ve felt in a long time. Perhaps ever.
A short while later we’re back on the winding coast road, heading towards Lorne.
Claire is going to pick up her car, and I have an important errand to run at the pharmacy.
I glance over at her, hardly able to believe my luck.
When I stepped in to protect her at the pub, I wasn’t thinking about myself, or what might happen. I just wanted to keep her safe.
It’s turned into the best damn decision I think I’ve ever made.
As we approach another turn in the road, the cliff tumbling away to the ocean below, she takes in a sharp breath. Just a small one, but I catch it. And I spot the ribbons tied to the railing on the ocean side of the road.
Oh shit. I slow the car. Claire turns to me.
“Do you want to stop?”
She nods her head, not saying anything.
I pull over into the small layby. There are a couple of cars there, people taking selfies in front of the view, a guy in boardies and a T-shirt standing with arms folded, watching the waves break on the point. I turn off the ignition and we sit for a moment.
“Was it here?” I keep my voice soft, not wanting to hurt her. She doesn’t have to talk about this if she doesn’t want to. If she prefers to pay her respects alone, I’ll wait here for her.
She nods again. Then she holds out her hand. “Come with me. Please.”
I bring her hand to my lips for a kiss. “I’m with you.”
We get out the car and walk back the short way to the ribbons.
When we get closer it’s obvious that a section of railing has been replaced.
There’s a lump in my throat. I put my arm around Claire, pulling her close.
The cliff drops almost straight down to the ocean, tumbled rocks below. I hope it was quick for them.
I have her, I send, as though they can hear me.
I have her, and I’ll take care of her. Such a strange thing to do, yet somehow, I feel as though this is the place to do it.
Claire is sharing something with me, something profound, and I want to let her parents know, wherever they are, that I care about her.
“I don’t often stop here,” Claire says. “I stopped leaving flowers a long time ago. I don’t… This isn’t how I remember them.” She glances up at me, her eyes bright with tears. “I wanted … I dunno, to share it with you, though. So you know.”
I nod, the lump in my throat getting bigger.
I wrap my other arm around her and she buries her face in my shoulder.
I hold her, sending out that thought again, that I’m going to take care of her, that she’s doing okay, that they should be proud of her.
It’s a beautiful moment, a communion of sorts.
I’ve experienced a similar feeling in the water, offering my thanks to the ocean for carrying me wherever I surf, pledging to protect her. Now I want to protect Claire, too.
She lifts her head. She’s not crying, but there are a couple of tears on her cheek. I wipe them away with my thumb. “You okay? Do you want to stay a bit longer?”
“No. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming here with me.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me.”
We kiss then, and it’s more than just a press of the lips; it’s a connection beyond lust. We stay like that, our foreheads together, breathing each other in.
I am falling for this girl.
And I don’t mind one fucking bit.