I looked at my watch. Bollocks. Fifteen minutes late. Nice first impression. I scanned left and right as I approached but I couldn’t see anyone waiting on their own. Several couples and groups were seated on the metal chairs outside Blue Savannah enjoying their tea or a few drinks but there was no ‘tall lass with dark hair and a nice arse’ to give Jack’s description of her.

A dark-haired woman came into view and paused outside The Surf Shack. She wasn’t short but she certainly wasn’t what I’d call tall. Could she be Nicole? A toddler with an ice-cream in his hand ran up to her followed by a man and the three of them disappeared down the steps to the beach. Not Nicole, then.

The only other brunette I could see was holding a surfboard, wearing a wet suit, and standing outside The Surf Shack chatting to one of the beach lifeguards. Clearly not Nicole either. She’d obviously gone and I couldn’t blame her. I wished bloody Jack had called her when I asked so she hadn’t gone home believing she’d been stood up.

Sighing, I leaned against the wall at the top of the steps looking out towards the twinkling sea. I pulled out my phone to ring Jack.

‘You’re late,’ came a woman’s voice.

I spun round and came face to face with the brunette in the wetsuit. ‘Me?’

‘You are Sam, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. Are you Nicole?’

She smiled and her blue eyes twinkled like the sea behind me. Her shoulder-length hair was wet and slicked back, with streaks of sand in it. Her face was tanned with a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She was beautiful in a very natural way; such a contrast to Kirsty who was always caked in a mountain of make-up.

‘That’s right, although I prefer Nikki. Two Ks. No Y.’ She wrinkled her nose at me. ‘Do I have seaweed stuck to my face?’

I realised I was staring and quickly blinked. ‘No. Sorry. How did you know it was me?’

‘Jack said you were the exact opposite of him in build and colouring and that you look like Chris Hemsworth and I’d have to agree. Are you two really brothers?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. He takes after our mum and I look more like our dad, although I’m liking the comparison to Chris Hemsworth. You can call me Thor if you like.’

I inwardly cringed at such a crap line but she threw her head back and laughed a loud belly laugh. ‘Thor it is! Which means I’m going to have to call your brother Loki from now on.’

‘He’ll hate me for that.’

‘Tough. So, Thor, do you surf?’