It was a casual evening on the beach… and Melinda was fretting. Which was stupid! She knew that. This wasn’t any different than any other time she stepped outside her room here, but somehow going to a casual thing on the beach – swimwear optional – to roast stuff, had her try on summer dress after sarong after shorts over her two-piece and then her one-piece. It wasn’t until Cormac suggested her going commando, that she pulled a loose t-shirt over her black bikini and a pair of short-short cut-off jeans and strolled barefoot down to the beach.
Even before she had passed through the gate in the garden wall, she could see the orange light from the fire. And right there, looking for all the world like he was made to sit by a fire like that, was Bill. Grabbing two bottles of beer as she passed the refreshment table, she went over and sat down next him. “Hi,” she said, and held out one of the bottles for him. “What are you roasting?