Page 33 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay (Sturcombe Bay Romances #3)

Kate looked up with a smile as Mike opened the door of the café. “Hi, Mike.”

He hesitated in the doorway. “Um . . . It’s nearly your closing time. Am I too late for a coffee?”

“Of course not. Have a seat and I’ll fetch it over.”

“Thank you.”

She poured his coffee, and one for herself, and took both over to his table.

“Isn’t it great news about the hotel?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He smiled, but it looked a little forced. “Very good news. You found out very quickly?”

“Debbie met Julia when she went to fetch Amy from school.” She stirred a swirl of cream into her coffee. “It’s really exciting. Fancy old Arthur’s grandson being so wealthy he can afford to buy it just like that.”

“Apparently he made his money in real estate in Canada.” Mike hadn’t touched his coffee. “He and Paul Channing are going into partnership.”

Kate frowned. “You don’t seem very happy about it.”

He sighed heavily. “I don’t really think I’d fit into their new plans.”

“Whyever not?”

“It’s just . . . I’m not very dynamic.” He had picked up one of the small packs of sugar — which he didn’t take in his coffee — and was twiddling it in his fingers. “It’s probably my fault that the owners have invested so little in the place. I haven’t been assertive enough.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” she protested, indignant on his behalf.

“I should have insisted on what we needed to do to keep the place looking smart. Used a bit of imagination to come up with new ideas.”

She leaned across the table and took his hand.

“Mike, don’t even think it. You’ve kept the place running smoothly all these years, in spite of everything.

You always turned up a regular profit, even if it wasn’t the sort of profit those greedy bean counters want.

It isn’t your fault that the owners were so short-sighted. Paul and Alex will be much better.”

“They’ve got so many plans. I’m just afraid I’ll hold them back.”

“Oh, Mike. You mustn’t think like that. You’ve got so much knowledge, so much experience. They’d be lucky to have you. But whatever happens, you must do what’s right for you. Whether you stay or leave, it will all work out in the end. You’ll see.”

He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back of her fingers. Just a fleeting touch, but it send a flood of warmth through her veins.

“You’re a good friend, Kate.”

Yes, a good friend. That had to be enough.

* * *

Mike strolled back along the Esplanade, past the beach shop and the chip shop and the noisy amusement arcade. Some of the shop windows were already dressed up for Christmas, with snow scenes and fairy lights and garlands of holly.

Thirty Christmases he’d spent here in Sturcombe Bay — but this could be his last. Maybe . . .

The sky was darkening from the east, but enough light lingered to show the dim line of the horizon. It was cold, but he didn’t feel like going back to his empty apartment just yet.

Crossing the road, he turned back down the ramp to the beach.

The tide was half out, and the sand crunched beneath his feet.

It was a while since he had walked on the beach — ten years, fifteen?

He stooped and picked up a pebble. He used to be good at this.

With a flick of his wrist he sent it skimming across the lazy waves — once, twice, three times.

He smiled in satisfaction and strolled on to the middle steps. The café was up there, just across the road, and Kate would be finishing clearing up, loading the dishwasher, wiping the tables, sweeping the floor.

Do what’s right for you. He hadn’t thought for a long time about what was right for him, what he wanted. He hadn’t needed to — his life had been settled, content. But since he’d lost Sarah, he’d felt as if he was drifting in a kind of limbo.

But now . . . Maybe the changes to the hotel were his wake-up call. Did he really want to cling on as manager? Or after thirty years, did he want to seize the chance for something else, while there was still time?

In his heart he knew what he wanted. But would Kate feel the same? Or would she think it was too soon, after Sarah? It had only been two years next January. Would she even be interested in being more than his friend, his dance partner?

And if he pushed it, would he risk losing her friendship? That was the last thing he wanted to happen. The music of his favourite waltz drifted through his head. Don’t rush your steps — let it flow naturally.

He nodded, and turned back towards the hotel.