not if you had a sore head.
‘Sophie came to pick her up,’ Sam told me. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Tess? You’re making a right bloody hash of that. There were only three more to stack when I was down there and now there’s seven!’
I couldn’t hold in the giggle which bubbled up when I looked at the mess I had made and before I knew it, I had fallen back on my heels with a bump and was sitting on the pub floor.
‘Are you drunk?’ Sam asked, sounding amused.
‘No,’ I said, scrabbling around and eventually grabbing his outstretched hand so he could pull me to my feet, ‘just a tiny bit tipsy. Definitely not drunk.’
As I came to stand upright, the whole world had shifted on its axis, not just the bar, and it felt like I was on the deck of a ship. A ship that was leaning first to the left and then to the right. I closed my eyes, which I quickly gathered was not a good idea, and then gasped when I felt Sam’s hands come to rest on my waist. My senses must have been heightened because I had my eyes shut and therefore the thrilling shiver which ran through me was more than justified. I slowly opened one eye and then the other.
‘You aren’t going to throw up, are you?’ he frowned.
It was hardly a romantic question, even if he did look concerned, but the close proximity made it feel like an intimate moment. I looked up into his tanned face, taking in the dark blonde stubble, the lines around his eyes which crinkled when he smiled and the unruly sun-bleached hair which topped the vision off.
‘Of course not,’ I smiled goofily up at him, ‘like I said, I’m just a bit tipsy.’
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ he said, releasing me and stepping away, ‘because I have a “clear your own vom” policy here at the Smuggler’s.’
Definitely not a romantic moment or a question asked in concern.
‘And I’ve just had this carpet cleaned,’ he added for good measure, leaving me in no doubt where his fears lay. He was undeniably thinking of his décor.
There were only a couple of regulars left now, they were all ensconced in the snug and didn’t offer to help, so I carried on with the tidying up. That said, I was probably more of a hindrance, but Sam bore my efforts with good grace and I didn’t smash anything or spill too much.
‘I think that’s the lot,’ I said, looking around, but taking care not to turn my head too fast.
I had drunk a pint of water but I wasn’t feeling much better for it. I thought I might have to break out the paracetamol before I went to sleep, just to be on the safe side.
‘Thanks, Tess,’ said Sam, ‘I appreciate the help.’
‘My pleasure,’ I hiccupped. ‘You know I can’t resist helping out if I can.’
Given how quickly I had become involved in the goings-on in the café, pub and village in general, no one could be in any doubt of that. The thought of having to pack up and leave made me suddenly feel even more nauseous than my hangover was going to.
‘Is there any chance, do you think,’ I blurted out, ‘that you might extend my time in the cottage even longer? If I wanted to stay on, would that be a possibility?’
‘Do you think you might then?’ he frowned, as well he might, given that I had already jumped from visiting for a couple of weeks to a couple of months.
‘Perhaps,’ I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if I could, to be honest, but right now, I don’t much like the thought of having an end date to my time in Wynmouth.’
‘You’re enjoying being here that much, are you?’
‘Yes,’ I swallowed, ‘yes, I am.’
‘Is that because of . . .’ he began, but his words tailed off and he turned away.
‘Is that because of what?’ I asked him.
‘Never mind,’ he said, sounding gruff again. ‘Forget it.’
I would have bet good money that he was going to include Joe’s name in whatever it was he had almost just said.
‘Look,’ he said, turning back again, ‘I know I’m probably being paranoid, but you and Hope . . .’
‘What about us?’
‘You weren’t scheming something earlier, were you?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like anything,’ he said, coming to stand in front of me, much the same as he had before, although not quite as close this time. ‘I don’t want either of