A Summer to Remember

‘It’s my second weekend here. That’s not all the time.’ I realise I’m pouting, but I keep it going because I’m committed to it now. ‘Anyway, I thought you were the bike guy, not the car hire guy.’

‘I am the bike guy. My father owns most of the rental places in Provincetown, and occasionally I move around when we’re short-staffed. Your turn – why are you here?’

‘Barney and Harry invited me to the beach later for the cookout, so I have today free to explore.’

Ethan groans. ‘So you’ll be there too?’

‘Yes, but apparently everyone from the town is invited, so I’m sure we can keep our distance.’

‘Good.’

‘Yes. Brilliant,’ I huff. ‘So, are you going to show me the controls so I can leave or what?’

He explains how it all works, which is pretty much how any car works, but I do listen carefully to how to put the hood on, just in case. I adjust the seat and get ready to drive off. ‘So, is there anywhere else I should avoid if I don’t want to see you?’

‘I wouldn’t rent a kayak,’ he says. ‘And I go over to Boston Harbor once a month to take our promotional fliers to the tourist information booth.’

‘Noted,’ I say.

‘Would you like any maps or anything?’ he asks.

‘Yes, please.’

‘Here you go.’ He hands me a thick pile of folded maps.

‘Why are you being so civil all of a sudden?’ I ask, taking them. It’s unnerving, like dealing with a Jekyll and Hyde.

‘It’s my job,’ he says dryly. ‘And I’d like you to try and find your way back before closing time.’

‘Oh.’ I should have known.

Once I’m on the open road, I forget all about Ethan and enjoy driving down the beachfront road. It’s not like the beachfront drives in the UK, all built up and busy with fried doughnut stalls and amusement arcades; it’s largely natural and unspoilt. There are some clapboard beach houses and small motels dotted around, but mostly it’s sand and grassy dunes stretching out into blue water and salty air. I find myself in North Truro, looking up at the tall white Highland Light lighthouse and park up. A few summer tourists have already begun to gather in a queue, and with nothing better to do, I join them.

I climb the winding steps of the red brick cylinder until I reach the top. It’s not as high as I imagined, but the view still reaches far across the grasslands and ocean. I walk around the large bulb in the centre, moving aside so that a couple can pass me. Then I rest my hands on the rusted sills and just gaze, enjoying the tranquillity of the moment.

The reality of where I am hits me, and I pinch myself discreetly, making sure the couple don’t see. I’m in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, and no amount of arrogant men will take that away from me.

Chapter 13 (#ulink_ea92a9a6-70fa-5a5c-96a8-c0b6f9fc2d37)

‘So, where did you get to today?’ Harry asks me. It’s 6 p.m. and the sun sits low in the sky, casting a pinky-orange filter across the wide, sandy Herring Cove beach, as though it wasn’t already beautiful enough.

‘After the lighthouse, I walked down the beach and just sat for a while. Drove a little more and then spent two hours back at the hotel detangling my hair. Convertibles, sea breezes and long hair do not mixeth well.’

Harry is busy building a fire but acknowledges me with a smile. I realised before I got here that by turning up on time, I’d probably be one of the first people to arrive, but I wanted to offer a helping hand. Everything seems to be under control, though, and Harry won’t hear of me helping when I offer.

I notice Ethan walking through the sand and with nowhere to turn or task to busy myself with, my stomach sinks. He’s wearing cargo shorts, and he’s shirtless, his T-shirt tucked into the back of the shorts, flapping behind him. I try not to look at his tanned, toned chest, whilst Barney, even from a good fifteen metres away, is less discreet. His jaw is practically in the sand.

‘I come bearing gifts.’ Ethan places a cooler in the sand with a thump. ‘Steaks and beers,’ he says when we glance at it quizzically.

‘Hi. Again.’ He runs his hand through his hair, and the few golden strands mixed in with the brown ones reflect the sunlight. His eyes catch mine and I realise he’s talking to me.

‘Hi,’ I say back. Other than Harry and Barney, we’re the only two people here.

‘I’m just going to double check Barney got a beach-fire permit before I light this thing.’ Harry stands up and makes a beeline for Barney, who is setting up a foldaway table and some deckchairs and my heart starts to beat rapidly. I’ve never been in Ethan’s company and lacked a snarky comment before, but he’s brought steaks and beers, what could I possibly snipe about? He’s a delightful guest.

‘How was your drive out?’ Ethan asks after a few moments of uncomfortable silent shuffling. This new dynamic between us feels weird.

‘Fine,’ I say, not wanting to speak any more than I have to, but the silence is so awkward that I add, ‘I loved the car.’

He takes his T-shirt from the back of his shorts and lays it out on the sand and sits on it, his movement casting a fresh, lemony scent. ‘They’re fun in the summer.’

I nod and glance over to Harry and Barney for a reason to go over. They’re having a heated discussion about napkin positioning that I’m ill-equipped to get involved with. I’ll have to wait.

‘Your customer service has improved,’ I say and add a smile so he knows I’m teasing. To my surprise, he smiles back.

‘I figured I should work on it if I want to keep taking your money.’

Hesitantly, I untie my hoodie from around my waist and look at Ethan, who gestures for me to sit. I lay it down a couple of feet away from him before sitting down on it. ‘So, it seems that you like to be on time for a party too.’ I’m scrambling for conversation.

‘I thought these guys could use a hand, but they’ve got it under control.’ He leans back to rest on his hands. ‘Actually, that’s a lie, I thought they said five-thirty, so technically, I’m an hour late.’

I laugh softly, though I can’t tell if he is late or he really did want to help. Something inside of me thinks it’s the latter.

‘Do you want a beer?’

I’m a little taken aback, small talk is one thing but having a drink together is another. Some alcohol would be brilliant though.

‘I’d love one.’ I feel guilty when I catch how full Ethan’s cool box is. All I’d brought along was a bag of giant marshmallows, and that was only because I’d never seen them before and got excited by them in the shop.

There’s a hiss as Ethan pops the lid off the cold bottle before handing it to me.

He tilts his head to take a sip of his beer, and his Adam’s apple glides up and down. ‘This has got to be one of my favourite places to sit and enjoy a beer.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ I agree, without taking my eyes off Ethan, who is staring out across the water. Whilst he has a near perfect record of driving me mad, something about him is so compelling. I can’t put my finger on what it is and it’s hard not to look at him when I know I won’t get caught. He almost seems lost.

‘So where do you live when you’re in England?’ he asks, and I’m grateful for his help with the conversation. A woman arrives with two children, a girl and a boy, who both look around twelve. Ethan waves, and she shouts ‘Hey Ethan’ before heading to place a bag by the table which Barney has almost finished setting up. When Ethan doesn’t move to go and talk to her, I fill him in briefly on my past seven years in London.

‘Where did you live before London?’

I swallow a lump in my throat. ‘The Cotswolds.’

‘The Cotswolds?’ The words sound funny in his gravelly American voice. ‘Sounds quaint.’ He smiles before taking a pull of his beer.

‘How about you? Have you always lived here in Provincetown?’ I ask, mostly to make polite conversation but also because I find myself intrigued, both by Ethan, and by growing up in such a place.

‘I was born here, but I went to the University of Massachusetts Boston and ended up living over there for about ten years …’ He trails off and stares out across the ocean.

‘What did you study at university?’