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He scooted the chair back from the desk. “Sure, take your time. I’ll tell Maggie not to worry about dinner for us. We’ll grab something to eat in the village on the way back, if that’s all right with you.”
She smiled. “That sounds great.”
They moved to make their preparations for the rest of the day and were soon on their way to the beach. Reece drove along the lane, pointing out the different markers. He parked at the edge of the cliff and began their walk down to the beach. After a short way down, Reece pointed up to the house sitting on the highest edge.
Nicole gazed upward, her hand shielding her eyes. It looked more like a cottage than a house from this distance, with two levels rising from the cliff’s edge. “Do you go there often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. Mum wants to sell it. I’m trying to convince her to let me have it, but so far it’s a no go.”
“Why does she want to sell?”
“The house is on the very edge of our land with too much public access to the beach and surrounding area. My parents like their privacy.”
“I see their point, especially with your career.”
“No one knows about me. I mean no one knows Reece Collins is actually Colin Woodhouse.”
“So Reece is your pseudonym, like Cary Grant was for Archibald Leach?”
He was impressed. “You do know your old Hollywood, don’t you?”
“I have a Turner Classic Movie app on my phone.”
He laughed. “Now that’s hardcore.” He led them down the path to the sandy beach, finding a spot near high rocks to lay out their picnic. “How is this? Does this spot suit you?”
She smiled at him. “How did you know I don’t like direct sunlight?”
He pointedly glanced at her hair and freckled arms. “It was a wild guess.”
She stuck out her tongue. “It’s a curse to be a ginger.”
He was spreading a blanket on the sand. “I think you’re gorgeous.”
She scoffed. “I think you need glasses.”
“I wear contacts.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Really?”
He shook his head. “No, my eyes are good.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she mumbled, twisting her lips.
He stood up straight. “Why are you always putting yourself down? You have a very poor self-image.”
She shrugged. “I’m realistic, Reece. I get up every day and look in the mirror, wondering if today I’ll meet my true love, and every night I go to bed disappointed. I see my flaws, and I know others see them as well. So, I figure there must be something wrong with me. I might write romances, but that doesn’t mean I believe in a happily ever after.”
He dropped to his knees on the blanket. “How many guys have you dated?”
“A few. Enough to know what not to expect.” She sat down beside him.
“And what’s that exactly?”
“Hearts and flowers. A country boy’s idea of a good time is drinking beer while watching NASCAR or shooting and skinning a deer. Yee-haw!”
“Looks like you just haven’t found the right guy.”
She slapped her leg. “Who is the right guy? Seriously, I’ve kissed so many frogs, my lips are chapped.”
