Tracy Corbett - The Summer Theatre by the Sea - The feel-good holiday romance you need to read this 2018

Their brief encounter last Friday hadn’t gone well, but it wasn’t fair to judge a person based on one prickly exchange. After all, he’d taken her by surprise. Jumped out on her. No wonder she’d reacted badly. He needed to try again. He’d head over there and properly introduce himself.

As he struggled out of his wetsuit, changed into cut-off jeans, and shook the sand from his ‘I love a Hawaiian honey’ T-shirt, his phoned pinged. Kayleigh. She wanted to hook up. Christ, she really wasn’t taking the hint, was she? Since going on a few dates with her earlier in the year, he’d been struggling to shake her off, and it was now May. He’d tried being polite, mentioning their ‘friendship’ whenever he could, in the hope she’d get the message, but it hadn’t deterred her. He wanted to ignore her, but that didn’t seem very gentlemanly, so he sent a ‘ sorry can’t, I’m busy ’ reply in the hope she’d take the hint and leave him alone. It wasn’t the best plan, but he was at a loss as to what else to try.

Bending forwards, he shook the wet from his hair.

History had shown he wasn’t very good when it came to ending things with women. He’d had a couple of relationships while at university, but differing life goals and a lack of free time meant pursuing them was pointless. He’d been accused of being ‘commitment-phobic’ and ‘immature’ on both occasions. He hadn’t disagreed. Was it such a crime to want something casual and relaxed? Medicine had been depressing enough. He hadn’t needed the drama of girlfriends wanting to know ‘where the relationship was going’ all the time. He’d just wanted a bit of fun.

But since moving to Cornwall, his aversion to relationships had been softening. His previous life had been all about work, and his social life – well, what he’d had of one – had been spent playing at being a ‘grown-up’. He was an only child, so his experience of hanging out with ‘little people’ was limited. But as the surf kiosk was situated next to Piskies café, he often kept an eye on Lauren’s kids after school. At first, he’d done it out of friendship – he liked Lauren, she was a good mate – but then he found himself anticipating their arrival, checking how long it would be before school broke up and they’d run onto the beach and jump on him. It’d taken a while to realise what he was feeling. When he did, he couldn’t have been more shocked. He wanted a family. And no one could have been more surprised than him.

Shoving his flip-flops into his backpack, he jogged across the sand to the café.

Spotting him approach, Lauren waved, her smile welcoming. They’d initially met via the drama group, but their friendship had developed when he’d started working at the kiosk. She was a good laugh, easy to get along with, popular with the customers. Hopefully her sister would turn out to be just as affable.

But things didn’t get off to the best start when he inadvertently kicked sand over her handbag. She brushed frantically at the leather, trying to clean it. Anyone would think he’d set fire to it. He waited until she looked up.

‘Hi. Charlie, isn’t it? We met at Lauren’s last Friday. I was the one under the sheet.’ He hoped his laughter might break the ice.

It didn’t.

She stopped shaking her bag. ‘My name is Charlotte.’ The bite in her words matched the venom in her glare. ‘I don’t like my name being shortened.’

Okay, strike two. He tried again. ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charlotte.’ Her lack of warmth failed to detract from the appeal of her beautiful chocolate-coloured eyes. ‘I’m Barney.’

She glanced away, as though looking at him caused her discomfort. ‘I remember who you are.’

Christ, this was going well. ‘Lauren tells me you’ve come to stay for the summer?’

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she blinked up at him. ‘I’m planning to return to London as soon as possible.’

Another snub. He was running out of pleasantries, but decided to give it one last shot. Not that he was swayed by her good looks, or anything. ‘Lauren says you’ve lost your job. Bummer.’

She stiffened even more, if that was possible, her glare switching to where her sister was currently serving ice creams to a family of hikers across the other side of the café. ‘Did she now?’

‘She didn’t go into details,’ he added, worrying he’d just unwittingly dropped his friend in the shit.

‘Yes, well, it’s a temporary situation. I’m sure it’ll be sorted soon.’

For a moment, he thought he caught her checking him out. He felt stupidly flattered when her eyes dipped to his chest, a faint hint of colour forming on her cheeks. Things might be looking up – and then he realised he’d forgotten to put his T-shirt on. Shit . He was standing in front of her bare-chested. No wonder she was staring. She probably thought he was a right poser.

‘And what do you do for a living, Mr …?’

He dragged his T-shirt over his head. ‘Hubble.’

Her expression switched to confusion. ‘Your surname is Hubble?’

He nodded, flattening down his T-shirt. ‘Yep.’

‘Your name is Barney Hubble?’ A frown formed on her perfectly smooth forehead. ‘Are you deliberately toying with me?’

He sighed. ‘No, that is actually my name.’ He shrugged, used to disbelieving looks and piss-taking about his name. ‘What can I say? My parents never watched The Flintstones .’

She smiled, which might have eroded all her other flaws if he wasn’t the subject of her mirth. So, she found his name funny, huh? She hadn’t found it so amusing when he’d called her Charlie, had she? Talk about double standards.

Making no effort to hide her amusement, she brushed a speck of sand from her pristine jeans. ‘You were about to tell me what you do for a living?’

His enthusiasm for winning her over was starting to wane; he really didn’t like being laughed at. Not by a woman. Not by a hot woman. ‘A bit of this and a bit of that.’

He needn’t have worried. His answer killed her smile quicker than if he’d said, ‘I eat people for a living,’ which told him everything he needed to know about her. Who the hell was she to criticise what he did for a living? She might be beautiful, but looks didn’t count for much if she was a judgemental snob.

If Lauren hadn’t appeared next to him at that moment, he might have walked off.

‘I see you’ve met my sister.’ Lauren gave him a hug, and then turned to Charlotte. ‘Barney’s a really good friend of mine. He’s an amazing singer. You’ll have to come and watch his gig tonight at Smugglers Inn.’

Charlotte didn’t look impressed. ‘I have plans. Maybe another time.’

Lauren gave her sister a pointed look. ‘Surely nothing that can’t wait. It’ll be good for you to meet a few of the locals.’

Charlotte looked as if that was the last thing she wanted to do. ‘I need to do some research. If my claim for unfair dismissal is unsuccessful, then I’ll need alternative employment. And I can’t expect to find a proper job if I sit around socialising all the time.’

Her emphasis on the word ‘proper’ sent flares of annoyance shooting up his spine. Sod her. He didn’t need another person in his life telling him to grow up and get a proper job. He had enough of that from his parents.

It was time to leave before he said something he’d regret. ‘Well, this has been fun.’ He made no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. ‘I hope you enjoy your holiday. Good luck with the job hunting.’

Poor Lauren squirmed next to him, making him feel a tad guilty. It wasn’t her fault that her sister was colder than ice. He blew her a kiss. ‘See you later, Lauren.’

Leaving the beach, he fought against the shame battling inside him. It wasn’t important. Charlotte Saunders was of no consequence to him. He shouldn’t feel so rattled by her blatant dismissal of him. Everyone else in Penmullion thought he was a cool guy. Someone who’d got life sorted. They envied him. It shouldn’t bother him that one highly strung, opinionated, gorgeous woman looked down her nose at him … but it did … and it really pissed him off.