The weather continued to improve. Despite it being only February, an early spring had definitely sprung. In celebration and relief, people shed their heavy coats and emerged in butterfly-bright t-shirts. The sunshine and warmth brought out happy smiles and relaxed the hunched shoulders of winter.
In anticipation of the good weather bringing in tourists, the town opened up, like a flower to the sun, for the new season. Nico scrubbed down his ice-cream kiosk and furiously polished the windows. The Plaice Place extended its opening hours, sending waves of hot chips-and-vinegar scent enticingly across the harbour end of town. Those lucky enough to own a beach hut began the annual clean and paint routine and hung bunting across the doors before settling down for a rest with a book and a flask of tea.
Early one morning, before the town had properly woken up, Millie stood on the café’s sun terrace breathing in the mild salty air and raising her head to the sky. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the lull and swell of the sea as its rhythm beat through her. The sun warmed her face and there was a cackle of a gull swooping overhead. Even the bird sounded relieved that the long winter was over. Spring was here. She could smell it. Trevor barked in excitement and she heard his claws scrabbling on the sandy concrete, scampering to greet someone. Opening her eyes, her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Jed watching her.
‘I’m sorry, I disturbed you. I caught you day-dreaming.’ He grinned and pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.
He wore skinny chinos and a pink polo shirt, a sweater rolled loosely around his shoulders. He looked just like what he was – privileged and wealthy. He could have stepped straight out of a Boden catalogue. His effect on her was so acute, she said the first thing she could think of, ‘I was wondering if it was time to put some chairs and tables out here.’ She cursed herself. As if he’d be interested.
In this, it seemed, she was wrong. Replacing his glasses, he came forward, nodding. ‘Absolutely, it’s definitely warm enough, or it will be later in the day. You’re always up so early. It’s barely gone eight.’ He bent to fuss Trevor, who was going into ecstasies at seeing him.
Millie laughed. ‘The alarm goes off at five. I’ve already walked Trevor and baked today’s specials.’
‘Oh, how I hate the smug early-riser! More importantly, what are your specials? I’m starving.’
‘As ever! I’ve a red-velvet chocolate and beetroot cake, some coffee and walnut and a batch of savoury scones.’
Pushing Trevor off gently, Jed came even closer. He stared intently at her lips and ran a finger lightly over them. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Millie. They sound so good. Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? A real taste of home.’
He bent and kissed her, his lips warm from the sun. ‘You taste of home.’
This time Millie lifted her head and surrendered to Jed rather than the early-morning sunshine. And he was far more exhilarating. She let herself open and he deepened the kiss. Holding her around the waist, he pulled her in against his hardness. She thrust her fingers through his silken hair. She wanted to drown in him, in the sensations that were overwhelming her senses.
Jed rested his forehead against hers for a moment. ‘Millie, Millie, Millie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. I want to eat you up. I want to smother you in some of your famous clotted cream and lick it off.’
Millie stood back, swaying slightly. She felt unhinged by longing. She knew she must look it. ‘Sounds messy,’ she whispered, in an attempt for control.
Jed caught her to him again. ‘Oh, it would be delightfully, sinfully messy.’ He kissed her again. ‘And so much fun.’
It was all threatening to get out of hand. Millie didn’t know whether to be furious when Tessa’s cheery voice interrupted them – or relieved.
‘Morning, kiddo. I’ll just go and put the bread inside then, shall I?’ She went past with a giggle.
Peeling herself off Jed and giving him a regretful glance, Millie followed Tessa into the café.
‘I see you’re finally getting your fun, then, our Mil.’ Tessa slammed the basket of bread onto the nearest table.
‘Well I was.’ Millie pulled a face. ‘Before you so rudely interrupted.’
‘Soz.’ Tessa giggled and peered out to where Jed was playing with Trevor. He was leaning against the low wall that divided the sun terrace from the steps down to the beach and was trying to teach the dog to shake paws. ‘Heard he took you to some swanky-wanky place the other night. Zoe’s right, though, he’s a treat for the eyes. Get a load of those thighs. You could crack walnuts with them. Blimey.’
Millie decided she’d better bring Tessa to order. ‘Invoice?’
‘On top of the bloomers,’ she replied, still staring blatantly at Jed. ‘Gotta love a blond man, haven’t you?’ She screwed her eyes up to see better. ‘Come to think about it, he looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?’
Millie, shoving the invoice into a folder behind the counter, didn’t reply immediately. ‘You’ve probably seen him about town.’ She looked up, amused to see Tessa still staring. ‘He’s not easy to forget, is he?’
‘You’re right there, bab. Bugger, hope it’s just the weather making me hot and not an early menopause. He’s got hormones I’d forgotten I ever had going bananas.’
Millie giggled. She couldn’t disagree. ‘You got time for a coffee?’
Tessa finally focused. ‘No kiddo, I’m running late this morning. Gotta go.’ She gave an earthy cackle. ‘I’ll leave you to the tender mercies of your hot friend out there.’ Fanning her face comically, she swept out.
Millie heard her trill goodbye, waited until the coast was clear and then dragged a couple of chairs into the sun. ‘Can I get you a coffee, Jed?’
He slid off the wall in such a sinuous way, Millie had a sudden and very intense longing to forget all about the café and drag him up to bed.
‘I’d rather get you.’
He pulled her to him for another kiss. Millie’s insides went to liquid and her legs threatened to give way. She pushed him off. ‘Coffee? Toast?’ she asked on a breathless giggle.
‘Well, I am hungry,’ he replied dangerously, gazing at her lower lip with intent. ‘I have a deep, deep hunger for you.’
‘You’ll have to make do with raisin toast, I’m afraid.’
‘Can’t I have you on toast?’
‘No!’ Millie pushed him away and enjoyed his pout. ‘God, you’re so gorgeous when you sulk.’ She let him kiss her one more time and then escaped to the safety of her kitchen.
Thirty minutes later, Jed sat on the sun terrace on one of her rickety chairs, his feet up on the wall, staring out to sea. He drank the last of his coffee. ‘It’s so bloody gorgeous here. Devon heaven.’
‘There talks a man full of food.’
Jed gave her a wicked look. ‘You’ve satisfied one kind of hunger, certainly.’
‘Wish you’d stop flirting. I’ve got a day of work in front of me.’
‘Do you really wish that?’
‘No. But it’s true that I’ve got to work. There’s loads to do.’ Millie went on to explain the plans for the café’s re-launch. ‘That’s why I’m trying out the beetroot and chocolate cake, to make the right colour for a Valentine’s party.’ She glanced back at the café. The bright sunshine made it appear all the more scruffy this morning. She frowned.
‘Something wrong?’
He was always so quick at picking up on her mood. She wished she could do the same with him. Sometimes to her Jed was a riddle wrapped up in an enigma. ‘I’m confident I can put on a good party, but the café itself just looks so tired.’
Jed batted a hand at an overly persistent gull that was after toast crumbs and paused before he answered. ‘Your windows are an asset; the way they look out onto the sea. Have you ever thought about putting in the kind that open like doors? Then you could bring the outside in and those customers who couldn’t find a table out here wouldn’t mind eating inside so much. They’re not patio doors exactly, but a bit classier. Really popular in bars and restaurants in Scandinavia, Stockholm especially. You could also install heaters out here to take away the sting of the cold. Then you could use this space for more of the year.’
As Millie had never been further north than Birmingham, she hadn’t a clue what a Stockholm bar might look like, let alone their fancy windows. Patio heaters were something she’d long wanted to buy but had never been able to afford; she’d need at least eight. And that was the crux of the matter. His ideas, although appealing, sounded way too expensive. ‘Sounds great,’ she answered, eventually. ‘But I can’t afford to splash out on a big revamp. That’s going to have to wait until next year. That’s if I still have a business.’
Jed gave her a keen look. ‘That bad, eh?’
Millie nodded, miserably.
Jed shifted uncomfortably. There was a beat. ‘Well, we’ll simply have to do a paint job, then.’
Millie sat up. This sounded more like what she had in mind. ‘I could sand the tables down, paint them something pretty. I love ice-cream colours, you know, cream and baby pink and pistachio green.’
‘They would be gorgeous, but do you still want to keep the mural?’
‘Yes, I love it, although it needs touching up.’
‘I suppose we haven’t much time, have we, before the party, I mean?’
Millie shook her head.
‘Then can I suggest sticking to the colours in the mural – turquoise and pink – for the moment and we’ll add in some hot pink and lime green into the scheme to freshen it up. You can always change the colours next year, when you do your complete overhaul. Do you know what’s under the lino?’
‘No, but it’s horrible, isn’t it? Went down in my parents’ day.’
Jed grinned. ‘And it’s seen better days. If there are floorboards underneath we can paint them white. How are you fixed this weekend?’
‘But I have to open the café!’
‘Are you expecting much trade?’
Millie shrugged. These days she never expected much trade, but she wasn’t going to admit as much to Jed. ‘Rain’s forecast, but you never know.’
‘Then you’ll just have to take a chance. Far better to close down completely and then open with a dramatic flourish. How long have you got until the party?’
‘Just over a week,’ Millie answered, a little dazed by his enthusiasm. For someone who had told her he was a management consultant, he seemed to know an awful lot about interior design.
Jed jumped up and stretched. ‘Better go and buy some paint, then.’ When Millie rose to join him, he shook his head. ‘You stay here. Plan the menu with lots of old-fashioned sticky stuff and carbs. All my favourites. See you later.’
He’d kissed her and was gone before Millie had time to react. She heard him gun the engine of the Golf along the promenade road. ‘Better rally the troops,’ she said to the gull that was attacking the leftover toast on her plate. ‘I think we’ll need some help.’ She giggled. ‘Do you think two loved-up pensioners and a couple of teenagers are up for a bit of D.I.Y. this weekend? Come on, Trev,’ she said to the dog. ‘At this rate we’ll have to tie a paintbrush to your tail as well. It’s about time you earned your keep.’ She gathered the plates and mugs and went into the café, humming. With Jed’s enthusiasm filling her with a warm glow, she felt more positive than she had for a long time.