Page 125 of Washed Up

They both turned and stared out to sea. The tide was going out and the turquoise sea was getting further from them as they watched, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the sand a comfort to their exhausted minds. Still, the unspoken question hung between them.

Dylan cleared his throat. ‘Look, we don’t have to decide now. Right? We’ve got all the time in the world. I’m booked in to the cottage for a few more days, anyway.’ He attempted a smile.

‘And then you’ll go back to your life and I’ll be heartbroken again.’

‘I can tell you now, of all the possibilities before us, that option is not happening,’ said Dylan, emphatically.

Frankie nudged him with her shoulder, relief coursing through her. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We don’t need to decide now. Let’s get dinner and…’ Her face flushed.

‘And get this sexual tension dealt with,’ he said, smirking.

‘And talk later, is what I was going to say.’ She laughed, nudging him again.

‘Oh yes. That, too,’ said Dylan, and the way he was smiling at her made her stomach fizz.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

As the sun went down, they kissed and kissed in the dunes until they were breathless and panting and only by some miracle still fully clothed, if a little dishevelled.

Eventually, reluctantly, they pulled apart. Frankie wrapped her cardigan around her as goosebumps rose on her skin. The evening air was cool on her heated skin, a blessing, given the circumstances. She simply could not keep herself together around this man.

‘Come on,’ said Dylan, grinning at her as he jumped to his feet, taking her hand to help her up. ‘I’m bloody starving.’

They practically ran across the island for dinner, dropping Blondie back at the house on the way, although they knew she’d find a way to escape again, most likely within the hour.

They walked into the hotel lobby hand in hand, and Sally looked like she might explode with joy at the sight of them.

‘You two look very cosy,’ she said to Frankie when Dylan made his excuses and went to the bathroom. ‘Talk quickly, I need details.’

‘We are. Oh my God, Sally, I’m so happy,’ said Frankie.

Sally threw her arms around her neck with a squeal. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘Thank you. I’m happy for me, too.’ Frankie paused. ‘I just wish Bobby hadn’t left. I want you to be happy as well, Sal. I mean, I know it’s not all about men and we’re independent women and all that–’

‘But it does help,’ interjected Sally.

‘Yeah, it does.’

‘Actually… about that,’ Sally started to say, then stopped abruptly.

‘What? Don’t tell me Bobby’s actually managing to text you back?’

‘No way. No chance of that. No, it’s actually… someone else.’

‘What? Who?’ said Frankie, although she had her suspicions.

‘Nothing’s happened,’ said Sally, ‘but Jake came over to see me earlier and, I don’t know, it was weird. He was, like, hanging around like he wanted to talk to me. It might have been nothing but it felt like there was a definite vibe, you know?’

‘I do know,’ said Frankie, grinning.

‘You don’t mind, do you? I mean, obviously he’s heartbroken about you and Dylan, and I don’t want to take advantage or anything. Or do anything that might make you feel weird. You come first, you know that, right?’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ said Frankie, and she found she genuinely meant it. Not a hint of jealousy stirred within her. ‘Just, you know, go carefully. We’ve had enough broken hearts around here to last us fifty years.’

As Dylan approached, Sally gave her another hug and whispered in her ear, ‘Jake said he might come back next season, after all.’

‘Eek,’ said Frankie. ‘That’s amazing, Sal.’