Through the door, Bea marvelled at Cal’s cottage. The low raftered ceilings, the open fireplace, the large stove which sat under a window with breathtaking views across the bay. It was traditional, homely and characterful.
‘Just like me,’ Cal said, playfully when Bea shared these thoughts with him.
Bea noticed the table in the dining area of the open-plan lounge was set for a meal. There were placemats, cutlery and even empty wine glasses. Cal caught her staring.
‘I was going to throw something together for dinner,’ he said. ‘But I’ve had a different idea. How do you feel about fish and chips on the beach?’
‘That sounds delightful,’ Bea chirped. It sounded even more perfect than dining indoors. For someone who wasn’t trying to pursue a romantic relationship, Cal was making quite the effort. If only all guys were like this.
Chapter 30
Cal
Things were going well with Bea, Cal thought. The chat on the drive over was interesting and effortless, although he’d been keen to avoid too much talk of his family as all roads invariably led back to his father. Chat about his dad’s illness when he was still trying to assimilate it was like swimming in the dark. The last thing Cal wanted was to start struggling with his incipient grief in front of Bea who was here for a bit of fun. Generally, though, he was at ease in her company. There were no awkward gaps in the conversation, and she understood when he was joking. Often his deadpan delivery confused people, so it was great that she was on his wavelength.
That they liked each other’s company was a plus. Of course, for the type of relations they were going to be having it didn’t strictly matter too much, but Cal couldn’t go to bed with a woman without having some kind of communication with her. You had to talk, right? He was by no means a hopeless romantic, but he valued getting to know someone a bit before sleeping with them.
This all said, as soon as Cal took Bea into his cottage and watched her clock the table setting, he saw how ridiculous the romantic meal idea was. What had he been thinking?It was over the top, even if he’d only been planning to rustle up a quick risotto.
So, in those moments of panic Cal changed their dinner plans and opted for fish and chips on the beach. It would be a brilliant way to show Bea the bay but with a low-key meal, so she didn’t think he was coming on too ‘Romeo’. He’d make sure they took a nice bottle of wine with them so his status as drinks connoisseur was intact.
Cal was grateful for Bea’s ebullience and enthusiasm for his idea. Her effervescence had irked him at first but was great at pasting over any discomfort. Underneath it all, she could be feeling awkward, but for now he would take at face value that she was excited about dinner.
They walked to the local fish and chip shop where Cal ordered each of them a fish supper, explaining to Bea this was a Scottish name for fish and chips. Her curiosity and interest in something as trivial as this pleased him, particularly when she started asking what other Scottish idiosyncrasies he could teach her.
‘I’ll have a think,’ Cal said. ‘The only thing that comes to mind is that, contrary to myth, nobody in Scotland says “Och aye the noo” or eats deep fried Mars Bars. If you could spread the word on those, that would be great.’
Bea laughed and agreed that she would tell everyone she knew.
On the beach, they ate sitting sat on a small blanket Cal had brought from the car. He poured Bea a glass of chilled white wine and considered this might also be a bit too romantic, but he wasn’t about to stand up and suggest thatthey get down to what they both knew was on the menu for afters. The best thing was to keep to general chat and not get too involved. It would be hard; he was curious about Bea, wanted to know more, to find out what made her tick, to keep making her laugh.
After they had finished eating, Bea was sitting cross-legged on the chequered blanket, holding a glass of Chablis, and staring out to sea, entirely entranced. Cal examined her face, hoping she wouldn’t mind. Her pale skin was luminescent in the evening sunlight, the red hair that fell around her ears wisping lightly in the breeze; her neck long and graceful like a swan. How he wanted to crane in and inhale her scent. Then he would take her to him in an embrace and make passionate love to her on the sand and…Wait! What?Cal caught himself on this thought. What was he doing, thinking about ‘making passionate love’ to this woman?Get it together, Butler.
‘Sorry?’ Bea turned to him. Cal started in shock. Had he said that out loud?
‘Oh, nothing. I often mumble to myself when I’m out here, because usually I’m alone. Forgot I wasn’t.’
‘Charming.’ Bea sipped her wine and he couldn’t work out if she was amused or not.
‘No, no, it’s a compliment,’ he insisted. ‘Means I’m comfortable in your company.’
‘We’ve come a long way since the first day we met, hey?’ Okay, she wasn’t pissed off at him; that was good. ‘I think maybe you hated my company that day.’
‘Hate is not a word I like to use, but let’s just say I wasn’t entirely charmed. Although I appreciated certain aspects of you.’
‘You did? And what might those be?’ There was a glint in Bea’s expression.
Cal shifted closer to her on the blanket. He tilted her chin, raising her face slightly to the dimming evening sun. ‘Well, there was this for a start,’ he said. ‘This face, these beautiful blue eyes, this perfect skin … these.’ He traced his thumb along Bea’s lips and they parted slightly at his touch. She met his gaze, and they became hypnotically entranced, silent, breathing the other in.
‘Your face,’ Bea said, finally. ‘It’s mesmerising. I know you were grumpy at me for skipping in the line that day, but I saw a gleam in these eyes that lit me up somehow. And your voice.’
‘My voice?’
‘Yes.’
‘What? This voice?’ Cal affected a deeper timbre.
‘Yes, even that “pretend Cal” voice. I could listen to it all day, whether it’s ticking me off for jumping the line or telling me to take my clothes off. Your Scottish tones get me here.’ Bea placed her fist on her heart. ‘And other places too.’ She smiled softly.
