“We’ll rent an entire cabin, please,” Kate said. “Whichever one is without bunks if it’s possible.”

She looked down at Kate’s credit card on the counter, and then up.

“You want a whole cabin?” she clarified. “With a double bed?”

“Yes, please.”

Her gaze flickered between Tilly and Kate, and slowly, the corners of her lips twitched. “Oh.” With a wrinkled hand, she slid the credit card across the counter and swiped it off the edge like a poker player. “PayPass okay?”

Kate nodded.

She pressed Kate’s card against the machine. As they waited for the beep of approval, the woman set her gaze on Tilly. “Aren’t you the one engaged to the vicar at St. Vincent’s?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at Tilly’s hand.

Tilly stiffened beside her. “Yes,” she said softly.

She looked between them. “Right…” She slid a keychain across the counter to Kate. “Cabin Twelve. Aircon’s broken, but the windows are open. Fridge conked out around five this arvo, but there’s a vending machine between cabins nine and ten.”

“That’s fine,” Kate said.

The track to Cabin Twelve was dark, the short garden lanterns doing little more than outlining the winding path. Kate took Tilly’s hand in hers again. They’d only let go in reception, and a small part of Kate worried that it had broken the spell, that the tension had softened. Was Tilly having second thoughts? Just as Kate was about to ask if they were moving too fast, Tilly linked their fingers and squeezed, pressed her body tight against Kate’s side. They took a right at Cabin Eight and started up the hill.

Past Cabin Nine, the path grew sandier. Tilly tugged on her hand. “I need to take off my heels,” she said, her voice raspy the way it always was after a full day of teaching. She reached low, but Kate stopped her, bending to unstrap each shoe. Wordlessly instructing Tilly to lift her leg, she smoothed a hand up under the hem of Tilly’s long skirt and innocently palmed her calf muscle. At the brush of Kate’s hand against her bare skin, Tilly made a noise, barely audible over the crashing of the waves down below at the cliffs, and a deep heat curled low in Kate’s belly. Fuck. She pressed her forehead to Tilly’s thigh and swallowed. She pulled herself to her feet. “Come on,” she ground out.

Inside Cabin Twelve, Kate lowered Tilly’s shoes to the mat. When Tilly stepped over the threshold, Kate locked the door quietly.

She crossed the room and turned on the bedside lamp, watched as Tilly looked around the outdated cabin. Worryingly, the comforter looked to be from the nineties, and worse, its godawful floral print matched the faded art piece hanging above the bed. On the bedside table, an old clock radio blared red digits. Outside, somewhere down below, waves chased into the bay from the Bass Strait and crashed wildly and loudly against the cliff face. Kate fiddled with rolling down the blinds, closing them. “I hope this is okay,” she murmured.