The Lavender Bay Collection. Sarah Bennett

remains of her makeup, he could see the concern in her eyes. ‘Hey, kiddo, what’s got your knickers in a twist?’

      ‘Don’t tease me, this is serious.’ Her hand closed over his forearm. ‘I don’t want her getting hurt.’

      ‘No one’s getting hurt. We’re friends. Nothing more.’ He paused, then frowned. ‘Why aren’t you worried about me getting hurt?’

      Eliza made a rude noise. ‘You’re my brother, and I love you, but you’re a bit of a player. When was the last time you were involved with any woman for more than a couple of dates?’ Without giving him a chance, she answered her own question. ‘I’ll tell you when—never. Beth’s not like that, she’s had one serious boyfriend and he broke her heart.’

      Damn. Eliza might look all sweetness and light, but she knew how to strike a low blow. Sure, he’d played the field, but it had never been malicious on his part, he’d just never found someone he felt truly comfortable around. There were women who he was friends with, and women he dated, but he’d never found anyone who managed to meet both criteria. Until now. The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. Mouth dry, Sam cast a quick glance at his sister, relieved to see she was rubbing her hands over her face in an attempt to wake herself up.

      He dropped a quick kiss on head, then pushed himself to his feet. ‘No one’s getting their heart broken, least of all Beth. I promise you.’

      The warming bag had done its job in keeping the bacon at a palatable temperature, so Sam made himself busy slicing the fresh rolls he’d brought with him and layering them with crispy rashers of meat. While his fingers carried out the task almost by rote, his mind whirled. Before Beth had returned to the bay, he’d been restless and miserable, his relationship with his father under threat. Talking to her about everything had been easy, partly he supposed because she knew him so well already.

      The attraction he felt for her was understandable. Sam had always had an affinity for leggy brunettes with eyes like melted chocolate; anyone looking at his previous girlfriends could have worked that out. Oh. Oh. He wanted to smack himself in the head for being so blind. He wasn’t attracted to Beth because she resembled the kind of woman he liked. She was the original. The one he’d imprinted upon that blustery night on the promenade.

      Voices sounded in the hallway, and he turned his back to busy himself with breakfast as Libby and Beth wandered in to join his sister at the table. The three of them were busy alternating between bemoaning their hangovers and slurping their milkshakes and didn’t seem to notice his sudden silence.

      They fell on the rolls like a pack of ravenous wolves the moment he placed them on the table. Sam braced his palms on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. If he didn’t pull himself together, they’d realise something was wrong. He’d grilled enough bacon for his own roll so claimed the last chair and looked back and forth between them. Nice and casual, easy does it. ‘Just how much did you drink last night?’

      It was Libby who answered. ‘Only three bottles, and one of those was Lambrini.’ She shook her head sadly, then clutched it with a whimper. ‘When did we become such lightweights?’

      Stifling a smile, Sam patted her hand. ‘It’s your age, Libs.’ He stood up, crossed to the window and rolled up the blind. Shrieks greeted the bright steam of sunlight, and he shook his head. ‘You guys are kind of pathetic, you know that, right?’

      Feeling a bit steadier, Sam decided to stick with his original plan. He grabbed the kettle, filled it and flipped it on. ‘Okay, I’ll give you ten more minutes to feel sorry for yourselves and then you need to get dressed because we’re going for a walk on the beach.’

      A chorus of groans greeted him, then Beth muttered, ‘You’re not the boss of me.’

      The little bite of sassiness was something new. She’d been a lot shier when she’d been a little girl. He liked this new side to her, it spoke of a growing confidence he wanted to encourage and nurture in her, and that meant giving her something to push back against. He turned to rest against the counter and folded his hands over his chest. ‘Do you, or do you not want to get that bedroom decorated this weekend?’

      She scowled and mumbled something. He cupped a hand to his ear, knowing he was being an annoying ass, but it didn’t matter because she thought they were just friends and friends teased each other. ‘What was that?’

      Beth raised her hand to her face, pretending to scratch the side of her nose whilst giving him the finger and he laughed, utterly charmed. ‘Nine minutes. Get dressed and I’ll make some tea.’ He dug inside the bag and produced four insulated mugs. ‘Eight and a half minutes.’

      For all their grumbling, the fresh air seemed to do the trick and Beth and the others began to look better. He watched as the wind blew his sister’s unruly curls across her face for the third time in less than a minute and she dragged them free again before digging in her pockets. ‘Damn, I’m sure I had an elastic band somewhere.’

      ‘Here.’ Sam yanked a black knit hat from his own coat pocket and tugged it down over her head. He smoothed the stray ends of hair behind her ears then tweaked her little snub nose the way he used to do when she was just this little bit tagging at his heels. ‘Better?’

      She nodded, then hooked her arm through his when he would have turned away. ‘Hold up a minute, I want to talk to you.’

      Until he’d worked out what he was going to do about him and Beth, he wanted to maintain the façade of indifference. ‘Let it go, already. Beth and I kissed a couple of times, it’s no big deal.’ He tried to shake her off, but she clamped on, dragging him around until he faced her.

      ‘I believe you, okay? That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.’

      Sam tipped up her chin. The dark circles beneath her eyes were from more than one too many glasses of wine. His grip on her face softened. ‘What’s the matter, Sis?’

      To his horror, tears pooled in her eyes. ‘I’m so worried about Daddy.’

      ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay.’ Sam gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight. ‘Dad’s a tough old sod, he’s not finished yet.’

      ‘I heard him coughing yesterday, it sounds so painful. I…I thought it would be better by now, but it sounds just as bad as ever.’ Her voice sounded muffled against his thick jacket, but there was no mistaking the hitch in it.

      Sam eased back so he could meet her eyes. ‘I had a long talk with him, because I didn’t really understand what was going on with him. His condition is chronic, I don’t think I fully grasped what that meant until I’d seen him struggling every day.’

      Eliza sniffed, then nodded. ‘He’s not going to get better, is he?’

      ‘No.’ The admission cut his soul to the quick. Their big vital father would never be the same again. Using his thumb, he wiped a tear off her cheek. ‘But, with proper management and care, he won’t get any worse and there’s some room for improvement. He’s promised me he’ll follow the doc’s guidance more closely, and as the weather warms up a bit that’ll help him as well.’ He had to believe that. He had to believe there was still hope.

      Her hand came up to cover his. ‘You would tell me if there was a problem?’

      ‘I swear.’ He crossed his heart, just like he’d done when she was little and made him promise something. Her warm laughter eased the knot in his chest. Slinging an arm around her shoulders, he steered her towards the ebbing tide to where Beth and Libby were strolling arm-in-arm just out of reach of the foam rolling over the wet sand.

      Bending to pick up a stone, he skipped it out across the water, groaning when it sank into the waves after only three jumps. Eliza gave him a playful shove, then found her own stone. ‘That was rubbish, watch the expert at work.’ She twisted her body ninety degrees, flicked her wrist and sent the small projectile flying over the surf.

      ‘Five?’ Sam held his hands up in disbelief. ‘You cheated.’

      Eliza