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“I’ve no idea what last night was. Trystan lives next door, so I guess I’ll see him later.” She’d been glancing at the cottage for the last hour but there’d been no sign of him.
“Have you got a photo? I want to see if he’s as hot as you say he is.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“How old is he?”
She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. “I’m not entirely sure. I’d say at least thirty, probably early thirties.”
A sharp intake of breath made a whooshing sound in her ear. “You don’t sound sure. Like maybe he’s in his twenties!”
“I suppose there’s a remote possibility he could be twenty-nine. I’m sure he’s not younger than that. But I really think early thirties, maybe mid-thirties.”
“Being forty sounds more fun by the second. Will you find me a hot twenty-something when I turn forty?”
“He’s not twenty-something. I don’t think. And you’re married.”
“Separated, remember?”
Beth’s shoulders sank. “How is everything?”
“Don’t change the subject to my wreck of a marriage. It’s boring. And we definitely don’t need to talk about that when you can tell me all about your hot birthday sex!”
“It was very hot,” she said coyly.
“Are you blushing just thinking about it?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“I’m so jealous.” Dee’s voice went muffled while she shouted for Ferne to hurry up and get ready for dance class. “I’m really pleased you’re having a good time. You deserve loads of hot sex.”
“I don’t think it’ll happen again. It can’t really. Nice memories to have though.”
“Have a summer fling. You can tell me all about it and I’ll live vicariously through you.”
“It’s a bit difficult with a five-year-old in the mix.”
“True. Ship my little sweetie back to me. I’ll look after her while you have your holiday fling.” There was a clatter in the background, then more muffled shouting. “I have to go. All hell is breaking lose over a lost tutu.”
“Good luck with that. I’ll talk to you later.” Beth ended the call, then picked up the bottle of sunscreen from the patio table and rubbed some into her face.
“Mummy!” Ellie called. “There’s Trystan.”
Her head shot up in an instant and her heart rate increased at the sight of him jogging shirtless along the lane, his abandoned T-shirt in his hand. After waving at them, he disappeared into his cottage, then reappeared a few minutes later in his swim shorts with a towel slung over his shoulder.
Keeping her eyes off the water while he swam turned out to be a difficult task. Beth had to force herself to only glance over there occasionally. When he started back towards the beach, she slipped into the kitchen to avoid him thinking she was just sitting out there ogling him. Hopefully he couldn’t see her standing at the kitchen window.
“I wonder how old you are?” she muttered as he walked up the beach.
“Who?”
Startled, she looked down at Ellie. “No one. I mean, I just saw Trystan and I wondered how old he is.” Maybe Ellie knew. It was the sort of blunt question she asked. “Do you know how old he is?”
She looked thoughtful. “Maybe eleven.”
Beth smiled. “I think he’s older than eleven.”
“Eleven is pretty old.”
