****
Maybe this nostalgia thing wasn’t so bad after all. She might go grab a snag from the barbie tomorrow. Lachlan’s family was running it, it turned out, raising money for the local primary school. Like Claire, he was single, although he spoke with pride about his nephews and nieces. He pointed them out in their rash vests building sand castles. The extended family all together. Claire realised she should probably give her cousins a call, it’d been too long.
Claire had tried not to dwell on running into people from school. As noted, a time in her life best forgotten. But it was surprising how relaxed she felt with Lachlan, even given his abrupt intrusion into her quiet reflection. He had become quite an interesting man. And yes. Most certainly attractive.
In the distance she thought she heard familiar voices again. Not Lachlan, obviously. He was right here. Definitely male. Good lord, her mind was playing tricks on her. Wasn’t it?
As lovely as this was, Claire had a score to settle with the wave that had dumped her before. (Yes, she knew it didn’t work like that) She asked if she could swap details with Lachlan, so they could catch up another time. There would be plenty more weekends or evenings for a drink, a brunch, maybe more. Who knows. Lachlan readily agreed, a broad smile on his face. It turned out he didn’t live too far from her.
Claire was oblivious, as always. She didn’t notice the appreciative way that Lachlan took in her body as she stood, put her rash vest back on, and tied her hair back. That appreciation intensified as, once again, she lost herself in nostalgia. She ran, laughing, back into the surf.
Claire lost track of time in the sea, weaving through the waves. Jumping, diving, giggling with the older children who could safely swim this far out. Eventually, her muscles began to ache and the salt began to sting her eyes. Time to call it an evening, she decided.
She strolled up the beach towards her towel and small bag. She loved this part of the world, she could just leave her things and not have them nicked. The sun beginning to fade, she took off her sodden rash vest and put it over her arm. She loosened her hair, shaking it out in a way that would have been seductive, had it been intentional. But it rarely was, with her. She just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t a horrendous, matted mess.
Her thoughts turned to the burger joint she frequented with her family, back in the day. Was it still open, and might that make a nice dinner tonight?
That train of thought, however, was abruptly halted. She looked up to locate her stuff. In her line of vision was the man who, unbeknownst to her, had been staring while she’d been thinking about her sister and the ice lolly. She felt a familiar, jarring, twist in her stomach as her heart rate escalated. This was the voice that had been weaving in and out of her awareness since she arrived, taunting her memory.
He remained tall, dark and handsome, his gaze piercing her. Claire felt her body respond, a visceral non verbal memory of being a teenager again. One who had quietly pined over the boy that now stood before her. Now very much a man. Suave, sophisticated, oh so popular. She had never dared say anything at the time, and her teenage feelings roared back, most unwelcome, into her present moment.
Claire felt much more conflicted than she had when she’d met Lachlan just a few hours before. But, unlike Lachlan, there was no mistaking who this was.
Despite herself, she could even recall the aftershave that Patrick used to wear, and the rush of overwrought teenage lust it brought over her. |
cant wait to read the some more 
