Owen
“You know what we need?”I said as I wiggled my toes in the sand, grinning as the evening sunshine warmed my skin. Christmas in the sun was one of the best things in the world, and it was something that would never get old to me. And I loved that after two years of sun, sea, and absolutely no fucking snow, Darcy agreed with me.
“What?” Darcy asked, leaning against my shoulder as we watched the waves breaking on the shore. His feet were buried in the sand next to mine, grains of it clinging to his skin.
“A bucket and spade. We should build a sandcastle.”
Darcy laughed. “It’s six o’clock on Christmas Eve, nowhere is going to be open for you to get a bucket and spade.”
“Guess I’ll just have to make one with my hands then.”
“Or you could wait a couple of days and then get one.”
“Boo! I wanna build one now.” I laughed as Darcy snorted fondly, his body shaking slightly where he was laughing. I fucking loved it when he laughed. It was one of my favourite things about him. And about life in general.
If Darcy was smiling and laughing, then life would always be good.
Falling in love with him was the best fucking thing I’d ever done, and I’d forever be grateful to him, and everyone at home, for helping me get my head out of my arse before I lost him. Because if I’d tried to live without Darcy, then my life would be a piss-poor imitation of what it was now.
I kissed the top of his head and put my arm around his shoulder, drawing him against me. He sighed happily, the sound making my heart bounce. “Did you ever think it would be like this?” Darcy asked quietly, his hand resting casually on my knee as his fingers traced the lines of some of my tattoos.
“What? This trip?”
“No… well, yes, but I meant life, I guess.”
“Sort of, but this is better than I could’ve imagined.” I kissed the top of his head again, my thumb stroking back and forth on his arm. “I always planned to be on beaches at Christmas, but I never thought I’d get to share them with anyone. Not like this. I kind of always thought I’d end up alone.”
“Me too—the single part, not the beach at Christmas. Although Heather Bay does have a beach so I could have gone for a walk if I’d felt like it.”
“Would you?”
“Probably not.” He chuckled softly. “Especially not if it was cold. Alfie said it’s been raining a lot lately, but no snow. Milo’s words were ‘it’s fucking miserable’.”
“Does that mean we shouldn’t send them a picture of us right now?”
“Depends. How much do you want to be told to fuck off?”
It was my turn to laugh then, because I could already picture Milo’s face. “Maybe not. We’re still calling them tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, tomorrow night. Hopefully they’ll all be awake.”
“If not, we’ll figure it out.”
Given the time difference between us in Australia and Heather Bay, we basically had to do evenings to their mornings or vice versa for video calls, but we made it work. Mostly we stuck to voice notes, text messages, and endless photos, but sometimes it was nice to see everyone, especially my dad and my niblings.
We hadn’t originally been planning to come back to Australia this year, but some friends of mine I’d known for a long time—who I’d introduced Darcy to our first winter away from Heather Bay—had recently moved to the Gold Coast and had invited us to come and visit. So, we’d decided to add three weeks in Australia to our itinerary, seeing them and driving along the coast, before we headed to Singapore for a week over New Year, then Thailand for another month, until the end of January, before heading to Vietnam for the last part of our trip. We’d head back to England at the end of February, ready to ease back into getting the shop ready for the spring and testing new recipes.
It was our most extensive trip to date, but we’d budgeted carefully and it was the break we’d both sorely needed
Lick It! had gone from strength to strength over the past few years, with queues out the door every day throughout the summer. The four of us worked around the clock, with the help of a couple of seasonal staff to stop us from completely burning out, and by the time we got to the end of October, all of us were exhausted. But it was worth it.
Not only did the busy summers mean we could afford to take trips like this, but they showed the strength of Darcy’s dream and how bloody good we were at what we did. The ice cream we made was fucking delicious and whenever customers returned or raved about us online then it just reiterated that.
We’d also scooped up a handful of awards for our ice cream this year, and every time we did, Darcy always reacted the sameway: with this ridiculously endearing surprise at the thought of being recognised for our work. But he deserved it. And I reminded him of that every single time, pressing praise into his skin with my mouth until he believed me.
“You know, I realised there’s one flavour we really haven’t done as much with as we should. Two actually,” Darcy said as he sat up slightly and stretched, wiggling his toes and making the sand shift and wobble.
“Coconut?” I asked, putting my hands down behind me so I could lean back on them. I’d been thinking about that too ever since we’d had some amazing toasted-coconut ice cream a couple of weeks ago.
