‘I thought you’d be over that look now,’ she said. He’d hiked all the way from the Bunker to her cottage wearing two towels and a pair of flip-flops, not an ideal or the most elegant get-up for a long walk over rough terrain. Even now, the rain still lashed at the windowpanes. Hardly surprising that Zach was now contemplating stocking a line of T-shirts in his shop. Not that her outfit for the trek had been much better. She shivered, recalling how her sea-sodden clothes had clung to her skin as she’d wriggled back into them. Despite having washed the cold and grime away in a hot shower, she still felt chilled, although hopefully an evening of sport with Zach and Ric would change that. ‘No sign of Ric yet?’ she asked. She’d phoned from the Bunker and told him she’d found Zach and that his van had broken down, but had omitted the details about the brush with death. No sense in being alarmist, or getting the evening off to the wrong start. Zach shook his head.
