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‘What, you want me to get a cheap bottle for Sam and Claire?’
It really didn’t matter. They could have drunk the toast in cold tea and it would have meant the same. It was the change that had been wrought in Lucas’s heart that mattered. The way he seemed to be celebrating his brother’s life, instead of thinking only of his death.
‘You should do this every year. Go somewhere and drink a toast.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I will.’ His gaze caught hers and held it. ‘Maybe it just needed to be done the once.’
‘Then let’s do it right.’ Thea tightened her fingers around the slender stem of the glass, snapping it in two.
He gave a small nod, snapping the stem of his own glass and putting the pieces onto a napkin. ‘Sam would have said this was a terrible waste. He was always the practical one.’ A tiny trickle of blood ran over Lucas’s trembling fingers and he brushed it away.
‘No, he wouldn’t. You said that he used to look after his little brother.’
‘Yes, he did.’
Lucas turned to the waiter, who had hurried over and was looking questioningly at the two broken glasses on the table. He pulled a note from his wallet, which covered the cost of the glasses plus a generous tip, and the waiter didn’t ask, just gathered up the pieces in a napkin.
‘I’ll bring another two glasses, sir.’
‘No. Do you have a couple of paper cups so we can take this away and drink it on the beach?’
‘You can’t drink champagne out of paper cups.’ The waiter looked mildly affronted. Clearly he didn’t know Lucas. ‘I’ll bring another couple of glasses and you can take them with you. This’ll cover it.’
* * *
They had picked their way across the smooth, sun-baked pebbles on the beach and found a spot out of the wind by one of the heavy wooden groynes that ran down the beach and into the sea. Lucas poured a full glass of champagne for Thea and a half for himself.
‘Hey, what are you trying to do, get me drunk?’
‘I’m driving.’ He grinned. ‘Getting you drunk is just a side agenda.’
She flopped back onto the warm shingle. ‘I’ll go and get some orange juice later to dilute it.’
He chuckled. ‘That doesn’t make any difference. And how many more ways can you think of to ruin good champagne?’
‘Hundreds…possibly thousands.’ Thea stared up at the clear blue sky. This was heaven. ‘So what are you doing for your birthday?’
‘Dunno. You’ll keep the evening free?’
‘If you like.’ The invitation was very casual, and her answer was equally offhand. But then Lucas touched the cold champagne bottle to the top of her arm, making her shiver. He could turn the smallest gesture into an act of slow, melting seduction.
‘You’re sure you know the date?’
‘I know it. Tenth of July. Eighteen hundred hours.’
‘You know what time I was born? I don’t even know that.’
‘Six o’clock is when we get off work. You were probably born at two in the morning, but I’m not going to wake up and sing “Happy Birthday” to you then.’ Thea adjusted the concept. It was almost second nature now to believe that they must be sleeping together, even though they’d barely touched today. ‘You probably wouldn’t answer your phone, anyway.’
He chuckled. ‘I’ll put it on vibrate and tape it over my heart.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY STAYED ON the beach until the sun began to graze the horizon, then wandered back up to the car, stowing the half-drunk bottle in the footwell in the hope that it might retain some of its fizz after they got home, and putting the two glasses back on an empty table outside the restaurant. Lucas got chips from a fish and chip shop a couple of doors along, and they walked back to the beach to eat them.
‘Mayonnaise. You remembered.’ Thea dunked one of her chips in the tub of home-made mayonnaise that Lucas had bought for her.
‘Yeah. I remember all your bizarre culinary preferences.’ He dunked his own chip into a similar tub of tomato sauce.
