with a soft blanket which she settled over Beth.
Eliza slipped out to make a cup of tea for them all and Libby assumed her perch on the arm of a nearby chair. ‘How are you feeling?’
Beth stared down at where her hands were knotted together in her lap. ‘I don’t know. I thought I was over him, but I can’t be, can I, if I’m this upset?’
Libby shrugged. ‘It’s bound to be a shock. You guys only broke up a few months ago and now he’s getting hitched? Something seems a bit off about the whole thing.’
She knew Libby was trying to be supportive, but there was no getting around it—she must still be in love with Charlie, and that meant only one thing. She had no place thinking about Sam as anything other than a friend.
She was avoiding him. He tried to tell himself otherwise when he was summoned by Eliza to help shift the furniture back into Beth’s bedroom and she was nowhere to be found. The changes they’d wrought in less than forty-eight hours blew him away, and there was no mistaking the space for anything other than Beth’s room now. The muted lilac and mauve walls were complimented by new curtains and a large rug in silvery-grey tones. He hung around for a few moments, watching his sister place a couple of pewter vases on the previously cluttered dressing table and a group of pillar candles on one of the bedside cabinets.
While his sister hung a new shade to replace the old-fashioned glass fixture, he crossed the room to where Libby was smoothing a dark grey fitted sheet over the mattress. ‘Where’s Beth?’
Libby handed him two corners of a pale silver duvet cover with a thick band of pewter scroll work decorating the top and muttered something about them running out of milk and an emergency trip to the corner shop for a pint.
Holding still while she fed the duvet inside the cover, Sam did his best to keep his tone nonchalant as he said, ‘We’ve got tons of milk next door, you should have asked me to fetch some.’
Libby plumped the pillows before placing them at the head of the bed. ‘Look, she got a bit of bad news yesterday. Her ex is getting married, and she took it hard, so we’re giving her a bit of space whilst she sorts things out in her head.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ Well that put a kibosh on things. He’d been hoping to catch Beth alone for a few minutes, see if she fancied joining him for a run in the morning. Nice and casual, just two friends hanging out. If he played his cards right, he might have been able to coax her into a kiss or two along the way. So much for best laid plans.
His disappointment must have showed, because Eliza crossed the room to slip an arm around his waist. ‘Hey, what’s with the face?’
Giving himself a mental shake, Sam gave his sister a quick squeeze before letting her go. ‘It’s just my face, Eliza, nothing much I can do about it.’ He crossed his eyes, and pulled his jaw off to one side, knowing it would make her giggle.
‘Silly sod.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘That’s me. Are you planning to see Mum and Dad before you go in the morning?’
‘My train’s not until ten, so I’ll come over first thing. Will you be around?’
‘I’ll make sure I am. See you later.’ He ruffled her hair, then jumped out the way of the elbow she aimed at his ribs. ‘Vicious! I’ll see you later, Libs. Tell Beth I hope she feels better soon.’
Instead of going home, Sam wandered down the steps at the edge of the promenade and out onto the pale sand. Not thinking about where he was going, his feet took him towards the far end of the beach where the rocks spilled out into the water in a haphazard jumble. Climbing up to his favourite spot, he stripped off his jacket and folded it into a makeshift cushion. How many hours had he spent exploring the pools lurking in and around these rocks? His bedroom window sill held a collection of pebbles, shells, odds and ends of driftwood, orange string and other detritus which had been fascinating to his eight-year-old self.
The sand beside the rocks had been the best for building. Some kids waited for the tide to go out, so they could draw pictures in the wet sand with sticks, others turned cartwheels and practised elaborate tumbles, heads filled with dreams of joining the circus that passed through the bay every year. He’d always been a builder, though.
He’d tried every location up and down the front, but had always gravitated back to this exact spot with his trusty bucket and spade to sculpt myriad castles, forts and fancy palaces. They’d stood proud and strong all day until the evening tide swept in and wiped them away. It had never stopped him though. When he’d woken up the next morning, he’d been excited to get back down to the beach to build something bigger, something better and even more beautiful than the day before.
His initial disappointment over Beth was wearing off. She’d been with Charlie for a couple of years, so it was bound to come as a shock to her if he was getting hitched so soon after they’d spilt up. Thinking back over the past few weeks, she’d never struck him as someone pining for a lost love. Her grief had all been for Eleanor, and though she’d still not decided for certain whether she’d keep the emporium in the long term, there had been no indication her plans hinged on the possibility of getting back together with Charlie. When they’d been looking for excuses as to why the two of them should remain just friends, he’d never come up.
As far as Sam could see it, he had two choices. Either forget about the burgeoning feelings he had for her, or try to persuade her to give them a chance. It didn’t need to be anything serious, a spring fling, maybe leading to a summer romance if they were both so inclined. They could focus on their separate businesses without guilt or expectation, and what free time they managed to eke out could be spent getting to know each other better. If it didn’t work out, they’d part as friends, and if it did…well, there was plenty of time to think about that later.
He was a builder. Time to lay the foundations of what might be a promising future.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming.’ The bell above the door jangled as Beth yanked it open.
Her face was pale, her eyes bruised and puffy. She looked like hell and for a moment the idea he’d come up with whilst staring at the sea seemed at best foolish, at worst like he was taking advantage of her vulnerable state. Or maybe he was just scared of finding out her heart was still taken. He needed to act before he chickened out. ‘Here. These are for you.’ He thrust the huge bouquet of roses in shades of cream, lilac and pink at her.
She stared at the flowers. ‘What are these for?’
‘Read the card.’ He pressed the stems against her fingers until she took them.
Balancing them in the crook of her arm, she tugged the little card from the envelope. Her eyebrows rose, and she stared up at him. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’
Sam leaned one shoulder against the doorway. ‘Nope. I mean every single word.’
Colour spotted her cheeks. ‘Let’s have a spring fling?’
A strand of hair had escaped her ponytail and he reached out to tuck it behind her ear. Unable to resist the softness of her skin, he traced the delicate shell of her ear with the tip of his finger. ‘We don’t have to call it that. How do you feel about a little March hare-madness, followed by some April fool-about? I know
