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Once showered, she slipped into the short-sleeved, pale blue dress she’d bought inBirds of a Feather, turning this way and that in front of her full-length mirror. Satisfied she looked good without appearing as if she’d gone to too much trouble, Cleo pulled her hair back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and added some light makeup.
Back in the kitchen, she turned on her iPod, set it to a favourite playlist and took the steak out of the fridge. By the time she heard Will at the door, the soft music had calmed her nerves and she was beginning to look forward to the evening. It was a long time since she’d cooked for anyone but herself or Hannah, since she’d entertained anyone to dinner. Back when she and Stan were together, they’d entertained a lot. Stan was a social animal who loved being surrounded by friends, and Cleo had enjoyed cooking up special meals. All that had come to an end when Stan died and, since coming to Bellbird Bay, Cleo had chosen to live a more solitary life.
She took a deep breath and went to answer the door.
‘Hello, Cleo.’ Will held up a bottle of wine. Tonight, he was looking smart again – smart but casual. He was wearing a pair of pressed jeans and a cream shirt which showed off his tan to perfection. His hair had been tamed back into a tight bun. He looked… hot!
Cleo blushed at the thought, shaking her head as if she could dislodge it. But she couldn’t ignore the unexpected rush of heat which gushed through her body at the sight of him. She knew this had been a mistake. But it was too late now. He was here. And she had to have dinner with him and make polite conversation. ‘Thanks. Come on in,’ she said, taking the proffered bottle of wine.
To Cleo’s surprise, the evening passed pleasantly, giving her no cause for further concern. The meal was delicious, drawing compliments from Will who admitted he rarely cooked properly since Owen had left, and the shiraz Will provided complemented it perfectly.
Their conversation focused on the forthcoming food and wine festival and the charities Will was involved with, and they found common ground in discussing various fundraising possibilities. Cleo was pleasantly surprised to discover Will’s interests weren’t limited to surfing and could sympathise with his devotion to raising money for breast cancer research and the local hospital. There was more to this man than she’d imagined, much more. She’d been foolish to write him off as another surfing bum when they first met. The more she knew of him, the more she wanted to find out, and it was easy to agree to meet again to discuss how they could collaborate on some fundraising ideas.
It was only when Will rose to leave, and she accompanied him to the door, that things changed.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening.’ Will hesitated in the doorway, the light from a nearby streetlamp forming a halo around his blond hair, giving him an ethereal appearance.
The awkwardness Cleo had felt at the beginning of the evening resurfaced. Her heart pounded. She began to tremble, anxious to get back inside before she embarrassed herself by doing or saying something she’d later regret. She was so flustered she scarcely heard Will’s next words.
‘May I kiss you? I shouldn’t have done it last time, but now we know each other better?’ Will’s eyes held such a pleading look, it was all Cleo could do to stop herself throwing her arms around him.
Trying to stifle the surge of desire threatening to overwhelm her and to hide the fact she was quivering like a jelly, Cleo raised her lips to meet his.
Twenty-one
Will couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he spent the morning with groups of children intent on creating as much havoc in his lessons as they could, without damaging the boards and themselves. But it was fun to see them finally master the basics, even though it left him no time for his usual lunch at the club. By the time he packed up after them, his afternoon session was due to begin. He grabbed one of the energy bars he kept in the glovebox for such an eventuality and was still smiling when he greeted his afternoon clients.
Last night had been amazing. He and Cleo had got on so well. The only awkward moment had been when he was about to leave, when they stood together in her doorway. He’d been unsure what to do, how to approach this farewell, so had hesitated before asking if he could kiss her. It made him feel stupid. Who asked permission for a kiss? But it worked. She raised her face to his and their lips met. And what a kiss! He’d been transported to another plane. He could only imagine what might happen when they took their relationship to the next level – if they ever did.
Will sensed Cleo was vulnerable, a delicate flower who needed to be treated gently, although he got the impression there was a core of steel which wouldn’t suffer fools gladly. He’d hate to get on the wrong side of her.
Even the arrival of Joy Taylor with her usual simpering and request for a booking failed to dent his good humour.
He tried to put thoughts of Cleo to the back of his mind and concentrate on what Joy was saying.
‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ she pouted. ‘I’d hoped to see you in the surf club last night. Your friend was there,’ she said accusingly.
‘I was out to dinner.’ Now, why had he said that?
‘Dinner? Where? Who did you have dinner with?’
‘None of your business.’ Will knew his response would inflame her, but he was tired of pussyfooting around the woman. He started to load his van with the surfboards which had just been returned in the hope she’d get the message.
It was futile.
‘What if I make it my business?’ she asked, a wicked gleam in her eye. ‘Was it the woman I saw you with at the club? I hear she works atThe Pandanus Café.’
A chill ran up Will’s spine. Joy knew about Cleo. But that had been the whole point of the exercise, hadn’t it? So why was he surprised? Why did the fact she knew where Cleo worked make him want to wrap Cleo up in cotton wool to protect her?
‘I was looking at surfboards today,’ she continued. ‘I might buy myself one. It’s your son who has the workshop at the other end of the beach, isn’t it? He’s a handsome boy, like his dad.’
Will tried to subdue the simmering anger threatening to overwhelm him. If she thought she could get round him by talking about Owen, she was barking up the wrong tree. But it proved she had been asking around. He felt a stirring of alarm. What was she capable of? Perhaps he had been too quick to write her off as just one more persistent woman – more persistent than most, but relatively harmless. Perhaps he should try to humour her?
‘That’s my Owen,’ he said, leaning back against the van and folding his arms. ‘He’s a local champion and didn’t do too badly in Hawaii. His boards are gaining quite a reputation, too. You could do worse than buy one of them.’
‘Maybe you could advise me?’ Her face took on a wistful expression he knew was false.
He decided to play along. ‘I’m going over there, now, to pick him up. If you follow me there, we can check out his boards and you can make a decision.’
