The Summer Seekers

It was love, she thought, lying breathless in his arms.

Love.

He pulled her closer. “I missed this.”

“Sex? It’s not that long since we had sex.”

“It’s a long time since we had sex like this. Sex that felt close.”

She knew what he meant. Intimacy was about so much more than physical contact. “I want to keep this feeling and I don’t know how.”

“I think if we’re both trying to keep it, then we’ll keep it. I love you, Liza.”

“I love you too.” She shifted so that she could see his face. “What happens now?”

“I make you one of my famous bacon sandwiches.” He kissed her. “And then we’re going to spend the rest of the day sharing our dreams and planning, the way we used to. I want to know every single thing you’re thinking. Maybe we should go back down to the beach.”

He pulled on his jeans and left the room while she lay there, feeling too lethargic to move.

She could hear birdsong through the open window and when she moved to the window she could see that the hot sun had dried off the last of the rain from the garden.

She could hear Sean clattering around in the kitchen and smelled the tantalizing scent of sizzling bacon.

She took another quick shower, dried her hair and pulled on one of the summer dresses she’d bought in the village. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and sent a text to Finn, explaining that she wouldn’t be able to make dinner.

She no longer felt guilt, or regret. She knew that the time she’d spent with Finn had been nothing more than a brief distraction for him, but for her it had helped her refocus. She was grateful for that.

By the time she walked into the kitchen Sean had a stack of thick-cut bacon sandwiches and a fresh pot of coffee.

“We ought to call the girls.” She ate one of the sandwiches. “How have they been this week?”

“Their usual selves until they found that article. Then they suddenly started being very caring. It was a little unsettling to be honest.” He grinned at her. “Caitlin made me breakfast in bed yesterday. The smoke alarm went off four times because she burned the toast. And the two of them have been spending an hour a day working in the neighbors’ garden, although Alice and worms are not a happy match.”

“This transformation occurred without so much as a conversation?” She finished the sandwich. “That was good. I haven’t cooked much this week. I’ve raided the deli in the village most days.”

“But you cooked for Angie last night? It looked like an elaborate meal.”

She could lie, but she didn’t want their fresh start to begin with a lie. “I cooked for Finn Cool.” She saw a question appear in his eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m not in a hurry.” He listened quietly as she told him all of it, from Finn’s appearance in her kitchen, through to dinner.

“It’s typical of my mother not to have told me that she knew him so well.”

“She’s always been secretive.”

“I think she’s private rather than secretive.”

Sean put down his sandwich, half-eaten. “So how worried should I be?”

“About what?”

“About the fact that you’d dressed up to cook dinner for another man. You enjoyed his company—I can see that.”

She felt her cheeks go hot. “We talked. He made me feel—interesting. I felt like an individual, instead of someone’s wife, mother or teacher. I often think of myself in relation to other people, and that’s something I have to change. We talked a lot about creativity and following your passion.”

Sean’s gaze held hers. “Passion?”

“For art and music.” She’d come close to kissing Finn, but she hadn’t done it. She’d made a choice. There was no need to share that. This whole week had been about making her own decisions. Decisions that weren’t dictated by the needs of others. “Talking