‘Sure, no problem...’

‘Sure, no problem,’ you mutter, feeling weirdly self-conscious in front of this guy. It’s not just that he’s huge – although he must be well over six foot – but the way he’s idly cracking his knuckles makes you flash back vividly to the first time you met your ex-girlfriend’s dad.

Alan reaches his hand out as soon as Emma’s got her top back on. ‘Nice to meet you, James,’ he says calmly, with just enough rumble in his voice to keep you on edge. His massive hand squeezes your knuckles deceptively lightly; you have no doubt this guy could crush your fingers without breaking a sweat if he wanted to. ‘Sarah’s told me a little about you. I hope you’re nicer than the last one.’

Emma huffs. ‘Alan. Seriously? Now is not the time.’

‘Sorry, Miss Watson.’ Alan inclines his head, and steps back. ‘If that’s all, I’ll just be heading back to my spot.’

‘For the umpteenth time, it’s Emma.’ It might be your imagination, but you think you see the hint of a smile tug at the corner of the big guy’s mouth. ‘And I’m quite sure I can’t stop you, so please, go ahead. But do try to enjoy the sunshine.’

Emma smiles, and you realise she must have a real soft spot for him after all. ‘Treat it as a free holiday. You must have spent half your life running around after me – I’d say you’ve earned it.’

‘I’ll do my best, ma’am.’ Alan nods to her, then to you, before setting out back over the sand.

Emma watches him go. ‘You know,’ she says to you quietly, once he’s a respectable distance away, ‘he’s a giant softie once you get to know him. The whole ex-hitman act is just something he puts on for my boyfriends. Always has. It’s ridiculous.’

You shake your head vigorously. ‘I’d say it’s working. One more reason not to mess this up – if I do, I have a feeling Alan will come round to my house and turn me into mashed potato.’

Emma buffets your arm gently. ‘Don’t be so daft. As if I’d let him.’

You smile down at her. ‘He did make you put your top back on, though. Which means I should probably hate him on principle.’

Emma giggles softly. ‘Oh, you’re bad…’

Then she squeezes your waist possessively. ‘C’mon. Sun’s going down. It’s time we went home.’