‘This is a smartphone projector. A great way to watch movies. Just place your smartphone inside the box, face it forward, and the lens at the front of the box enlarges the image up to eight times and projects the image onto any surface. It’s perfect as it requires no set-up.’
‘I’ve never seen one of those.’
‘It’s like magic. The whole thing is made from cardboard and glass, totally wireless, and uses no additional power. Sometimes in The Sea Glass Restaurant we project images of the fish swimming in the sea onto the wall. But first, let’s get ourselves comfy.’ With the most gorgeous smile, Sam sat up for a moment and reached inside the picnic basket. ‘Something to celebrate your time on Puffin Island.’ He held up a bottle and two flutes.
‘Champagne! Wow, you’re pulling out all the stops. I thought you’d just bought more wine.’
‘That can keep.’ Sam popped the cork, which launched into the air and landed on the sand right at the edge of the water. Verity giggled and got up to race after it.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, watching her in amusement.
‘Keeping the cork. It’s going in my memory box to commemorate my time on Puffin Island,’ she replied, flopping back down on the cushions and placing it on the blanket next to her before sitting cross-legged. She felt extremely relaxed and comfortable in Sam’s company, enjoying every moment of the evening. Today had gotten off to a shaky start with him, but she liked how he’d opened up to her this evening, especially as she knew it must have been difficult, given he didn’t have full closure over his grandfather’s death. Sitting next to him now, she felt like she’d known him for years.
Sam poured the champagne and handed her a glass. ‘Just for you.’ After filling his own he clinked his glass against hers. ‘Here’s to great company, and a fabulous film night.’
‘But how do we watch the film?’
Sam reached inside the box, pressed the screen on his phone, then placed it back inside the projector and rested it on top of the fabric stool. He pointed it towards a smooth white rock that lay right in front of them. The image was projected onto the rock like a screen in the cinema.
‘How cool is that?’ Verity was amazed.
‘Pretty cool,’ he said, taking out a large bowl of popcorn and placing it at the edge of the blanket. He lay down on his stomach, and Verity mirrored his actions, their bodies touching.
‘You never said which film we’re watching.’
‘I thought I’d keep the beach theme.’
She laughed. ‘Please tell me we’re not watchingJaws.’
‘Not quite.’
Verity threw back her head and laughed asThe Little Mermaidbegan to play.
‘It’s personally one of my faves,’ he said, grinning and taking a handful of popcorn out of the bowl. He popped a couple of pieces into his mouth then held some towards Verity. His hand brushed against hers, sending shivers through her entire body as he gave her an adorable smile.
Verity was unsure exactly what was happening here. Despite his earlier protestation that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, this felt very much like a date to her – possibly the most romantic date she’d ever been on. When she’d set off from home on her journey, the last thing on her mind was getting involved in any sort of relationship, but she knew the second she’d spotted Sam queuing at the greasy spoon there was something special about him.
The best thing to do was sit back and enjoy this night and his company without overthinking it, which was already becoming extremely difficult, because if Verity was to be honest with herself, the red-hot desire she felt for Sam was beginning to consume her. He was quickly becoming the reason she wanted to stay on Puffin Island a little longer.
ChapterTwelve
‘Verity! Why are you whispering?’
Verity was lying in bed in the spare room of Cosy Nook Cottage with the duvet pulled over her head. She’d rung Ava to wish her good luck with her move to London.
‘Because he might hear me.’
‘Who might hear you? Where are you?’
‘Sam Wilson, the gorgeous guy from the greasy spoon that I followed onto the ferry and after I tried to drown Hetty. He’s taken me in.’
‘You’re in some random guy’s house?’
‘It’s not just a house, it’s a gorgeous cottage with stunning views, a secret bookcase and, would you believe, its own cove.’
‘He might be a mass murderer. You don’t even know this guy.’
‘He’s not a mass murderer. He’s a normal guy with a dog, which is good as animal people are always the best. And he owns and manages The Sea Glass Restaurant, which is a floating restaurant on the harbour. I’m having a blast, we’ve been swimming in the sea close to midnight under the starlit sky. He sings, too, and performed in the pub – he was amazing – and last night, you’re not going to believe this, but?—’
