Page 2 of Not Just for Christmas

‘It was blazing sunshine when I left Australia last month. You sure you’re not tempted to join your family?’

‘I was supposed to move over to be with them after I finished college but …’ Her gaze drifted out to the ocean. ‘When the time came to sort my visa, I couldn’t do it.’

He grinned at her. ‘Crazy.’

‘I know.’ She took a raincoat out of her bag and pulled it over her head.

He should get out of the rain, get out of his wetsuit, get back to his warm room, but he didn’t want to move. Not yet. Not until he had her number.

‘I’m Dylan, by the way.’

‘Lucy.’ She gave him a smile which showed dimples in her cheeks. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ His stomach flipped. Her name suited her perfectly, cute as a button. And damn, that English accent was adorable. ‘So I guess you know all the good places to hang out round here?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘There aren’t many, most of the beach cafés close down for winter. The Otter, our local pub, is always fun though, good atmosphere.’

‘Is that close by?’ He already knew where it was; he’d seen it earlier. But he wanted to string out this conversation for as long as he could.

‘In the village – you can’t miss it.’ Lucy scanned the beach before getting to her feet and shoving the rest of her things away. Looked like she was leaving and he should too before hypothermia set in. If he didn’t act quickly he might never see her again.

‘Fancy joining me?’ he blurted out. ‘At The Otter. Tonight? I’m travelling alone and I could use someone to show me around.’

‘Nice idea.’ She smiled at him. ‘But I think my boyfriend might have something to say about that.’

‘Oh sure. Yes. He would.’ Of course she had a boyfriend. He was an idiot to think otherwise. He thumped a hand to his forehead. ‘I mean, I would if it was me.’

‘He’s out there,’ she nodded towards the ocean. ‘I think I saw him speaking to you actually.’

The guy who’d given him the pep talk which had improved his confidence no end. And in return, he had made a move on his girlfriend. Way to go, Dylan.

He nodded. ‘He’s a dude. Totally fearless.’

‘Hmm.’ A tiny frown creased her brow, but then she smiled. ‘But thank you for the invitation, I’m flattered.’

He raised a hand to wave goodbye. ‘I’m going now before I say something else stupid.’

‘Hey, it’s cool,’ she said easily. ‘You weren’t to know.’

He jogged over to his rucksack. The rain had stopped as quickly as it had started but his towel was too wet to be of any use. He stuffed it inside the bag, tugged on his hoodie and picked up his rented surfboard.

It was ridiculous to be so disappointed, he’d just met her. But he couldn’t help it; in his head, he’d already imagined their first date: just the two of them; dinner at The Otter, her explaining all the weird English stuff on the menu, followed by a midnight walk on the beach, a kiss under a moonlit sky. God dammit. The curse of the hopeless romantic.

He looked over his shoulder for one last glimpse of her just in time to see a broad guy in full wetsuit, hat and boots run up to her and drop his surfboard on the sand.

‘Whoo-hoo,’ the guy yelled, scooping her up and swinging her around. ‘Did you see me out there? That surf is insane today.’

‘Put me down, you’re all wet!’ she said, squealing.

‘You love it really.’ He set her down on the sand and pressed wet kisses all over her face, making her giggle.

Dylan couldn’t help but smile too; they were obviously happy. He was glad about that, at least he hadn’t lost out to an asshole. She caught him looking and waved.

‘Dylan, come and meet Jack!’ she called.

Dylan hesitated. Was this the moment where he got punched in the jaw by a jealous boyfriend when he learned Dylan had just asked her out on a date?

‘Dylan is American,’ said Lucy, tucking her arm around Jack’s waist. ‘And travelling on his own. This is Jack, a Devon boy through and through.’