The Reluctant Roadtripper (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 15

Balnakeil Beach, Scottish Highlands

It's been a long time since I've sunbathed on a Scottish beach. Even during the good old Portpatrick days, we rarely ventured down to the sea. I have a vague memory, crumpled around the edges due to its age, of being in a tiny ruffled swimsuit and waving a bucket and spade around, maybe in Troon or Ayr. I must have been about five at the time. I spotted a massive dead jellyfish, and for months afterwards I had a recurring nightmare about it coming back to life ten times the size and stalking me.

Oh crap, I really wish I hadn't remembered that. I guess I know what I'll be dreaming about tonight.

Anyway, Balnakeil Beach is absolutely beautiful, and it's a pleasure to make it my sunbathing spot for a few hours. The sand is wonderfully pale, an amazing contrast to the way the water glints turquoise in the bright sunshine. I imagine it would even look pretty on a dull day, but I'm glad for the amazing weather all the same . . . It has definitely made this trip infinitely more palatable.

As have other distractions, of course . . .

From my position on my beach towel, I watch my other distraction as he stands in the shallows of the bay, playing frisbee with Debbie and Michelle. He's wearing nothing but dark coloured shorts, and my eyes trace down his lean torso, wondering what it would feel like to have it on top of me. Along with the rest of his body, obviously!

My gaze then drifts towards the aforementioned shorts, considering what's contained within. Imagining him pressing against me, possessing me. Thinking about his lips on mine, brushing light kisses down my neck. Would he whisper dirty thoughts in my ear? Slide down my body, hands all over me, mischief gleaming sexily in his dilated pupils as he moves towards my . . .

"Mirren? Are you alive in there?" Nessa clicks her fingers loudly and repeatedly in front of my face and interrupts my temporary fantasy. I'd actually forgotten she was next to me. We might have even been mid-conversation. I'm really not sure. I'm really struggling to focus on much more than Owen at the moment.

"I was asking if anything happened with you and Owen last night?" She prompts me, one perfectly laminated eyebrow arched in query.

"It did not," I say grumpily, huffing and looking away from the water. "And I've still not forgiven you for your oh-so-obvious set-up, by the way."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says haughtily, tossing her hair. "We told you, all three of us came down with a terrible dose of food poisoning just before dinner. We were all too ill to even pick up the phone to let you know, and it was just a lucky coincidence that the hotel messed up the restaurant booking."

"You're the world's worst liar, Vanessa Robertson," I tut, attempting to grab a handful of sand to chuck at her. It mostly ends up on me, of course. Sand is fickle like that, and one of the reasons why I'm more of a "pool girl" when I'm on holiday. "I don't believe your fairytales for a minute."

"And I don't buy yours either," Nessa counters, eyes gleaming. "Maybe nothing physical happened, but I can sense that chemistry more than ever between you."

Hmm, she might not be wrong there. Because I've felt it too, on countless occasions now. We're two elements that react favourably with each other when mixed. We've been simmering gently, but with further exposure, the reaction is becoming more pronounced, the elements melting together. If I'm not careful, we might end up a mixed element - Mirrowenium, perhaps? Oh wait . . . Am I thinking of compounds? God knows, I actually failed Chemistry at school, so I'm in no way an expert!

Regardless, taking Chemistry By Dummies out of the equation, the fizz is gaining further effervescence by the minute and, even though the most we've said so far to each other today is "good morning", there's been many moments for me to brood over already. For example, our gazes constantly tangling in the mirror, like on that first day, any time there was a brief pause in driving. Except this time, my shades and his glasses weren't in the way. The eye contact was there, plain and simple. As were the tentative smiles on both of our faces.