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Lia sipped the sweet, black coffee from the mug cradled in her hands, and settled back in what had to be the most comfortable sun lounger ever created. She crossed one leg over the other and allowed herself to completely relax.
The warm breeze that blew in across the water shifted her hair a little, causing the ends to tickle her bare arms, and carrying a multitude of aromas with it.
Her eyes stayed focused on the beautiful view in front of her, while her mind wandered.
Back to a summer years ago.
The summer that had followed her final year of school and the long break that preceded college. The summer where everything had changed; relationships, family, her outlook on life, and she herself as a person. Everything had shifted perspective, giving her an alternative viewpoint from the one she’d had while growing up.
It was that summer that the boys had come.
A group of college graduates who’d decided to travel after finishing final exams and tests. The group had moved into rented accommodation in town and quickly made themselves at home. Before long, everyone in the neighbourhood had known them and had had something positive to say about them.
Lia smiled at the memory.
Thorin, reasonably tall at six feet with long dark curly hair and a goatee beard, had a serious side to balance his maniacal sense of humour. He had a sister who was older, and as a result his two nephews were close to his age.
Fili and Kili.
They’d been complete menaces. They’d caused chaos wherever they went, destroyed everything they’d turned their attention to, and that included more than a few hearts. The brothers loved life, loved living it, and loved creating mayhem and mischief along the way.
And Bilbo.
He’d been the nerd of the group, spending many an evening on the porch of the house or sitting on the old wooden pier with his feet dangling over the side, reading whatever book had caught his attention. Being the smallest within the group of friends he’d been teased mercilessly, but it had all been in good fun, and never hurtful or vicious. He’d taken it reasonably well, until Kili had snatched his book, shot along the length of the pier with it, and jumped headfirst into the water.
Cue one ruined book, and one irate Bilbo.
Then there was Thranduil.
He’d stood out like the proverbial sore thumb.
Already having reached six feet five and towering over his friends, he’d exuded grace with each move he’d made and still managed to look masculine with it. His hair was almost white blond and touched his waist, turning every head in the vicinity and attracting stares from all who laid eyes on him. Thick, dark eyebrows had contrasted starkly against hair so light, but they only served to draw attention to the unusual eyes beneath.
Ice blue, like water on a clear winter’s day.
Those eyes had the capability to convey a thousand different thoughts and emotions. Anyone who’d found themselves in his line of vision had been inexplicably drawn in; powerless to stop it.
She smiled.
Girls of all ages all across town had chased him. Swooned over him. Flirted with him.
But he’d had his sights set on someone else.
Her.
What had started out as a casual friendship had grown, which wasn’t surprising considering the amount of time she and her friends had spent with the boys. Thorin had set his sights on Daisy, her friend since pre-school, and had put all his energies into chasing her. His nephews had taken a fancy to Anna from next door, and many a night the two had come to blows in the middle of the dusty street. A soft chuckle escaped at the memory of the fire marshall storming out of his office and separating the two, yelling at them and telling them to act like young men instead of unruly schoolchildren.
Most nights that summer had everyone meeting on the pier before heading to the beach.
Thranduil had lifted her one particular night, and dropped her over the edge of the wooden structure into the water below.
He hadn’t known that she couldn’t swim.
He’d dived in after her, pulled her back to the surface and swam ashore with her cradled against his broad, warm chest. Strong arms had held her afterwards, the two of them sitting huddled on the sand. She’d been shaking from head to foot. He’d tenderly wiped her tears away and apologised about thirty eight times, ignoring Thorin and the boys who’d heckled him relentlessly for his crazy stunt.
After that, it had been his mission to teach her how to swim.
It had taken several weeks, but he’d succeeded.
After that, the two of them would often swim out past the markers and around the supports of the pier, under the soothing light of the moon and the billions of stars. The nights were as hot as the days, and the beach was the coolest place anywhere.
It was under that pier that they’d first kissed.
Lia closed her eyes, her lips turning upwards as she brought back a crystal-clear recollection of it.
He’d been treading water just inches in front of her, wet hair slicked back and moonlight reflecting off those ice blue eyes that had looked grey in the darkness. One hand had slid around the back of her neck and tugged her close, and his soft, warm mouth had descended on hers.
A pang shot through her, and she took a deep breath.
She’d slept with him that night.
She’d never been that far with any man before, but had found herself intoxicated and delirious as he’d kissed her. They’d exited the water and made their way across the sand, over the road and into the fields of Old Man Archer’s farm. The barn full of hay stores had been the location, where the earth had moved and the heavens had imploded.
The week after, her father had died.
Thranduil had been at her side instantly, providing whatever comfort he could. Thorin and Bilbo had stayed in the living room downstairs in her father’s house, while the two brothers had remained in the rented house across the street but spent their days in her place. The blond who’d cradled her in his arms for three solid days while she’d wept and sobbed hadn’t left her side for a second. He’d been with her throughout the police notification, the official identification she’d had to go through, and the funeral afterwards.
He’d been there.
And he’d taken her through her sorrow.
The weeks that had followed had been hard, but the boys had rallied round and made sure she hadn’t hidden away. It had been back to the beach every night, splashing and diving, submerging and coming back up from the depths locked in a hot kiss. Hurtling around town in Bilbo’s little car, usually with her standing up and leaning through the sunroof. Gulls squawking as they dipped and swooped over the rolling waves.
Thorin had eventually worn Daisy down, and the two had become a firm item. The couple had gone everywhere together, drifting away from the group of friends slightly as they’d grown closer. Neither Fili or Kili had had any luck with Anna, who’d left before the end of the summer to travel across Europe with her parents. The boys had huffed and complained, but soon recovered enough to try their luck with other girls.
She and Thranduil had remained close, spending days and nights together. He’d taught her things about her body that she hadn’t known, and things about herself as a person that she hadn’t known. He’d been caring. Attentive. Devoted. Fun. Protective.
And she’d fallen deeply in love with him.
Each night as they’d rolled around in the surf, thrown sand at one another and kissed salt water away, she’d been aware that the summer was coming to an end. The lease on the boys’ rented house would come to a close, and they’d all go back to their own lives once more. Each kiss, each embrace, each touch, she’d held him closer than ever, determined to create an everlasting memory that would outlive everything.
But the summer had ended.
The hot weather had gradually faded, turning into a cooler and then colder climate.
The nights were long.
And lonely.
The boys had left town, heading for jobs they’d studied hard for.
Life went back to what it had been before their arrival; quiet, uneventful, dull.
The Boys of Summer had gone.
Lia blinked, emerging from her memories and recollections. A loud bang followed by shouts and yells reached her ears.
Two strong arms slid over her shoulders from behind bringing with them the unmistakable smell of summer.
The beach.
The warm winds.
The crashing surf.
Moonlit nights.
Long blond hair drifted over her upper arms as her husband tucked his face against her neck.
“What are you doing out here?” he murmured. “The barbeque is turning into a scene from Fight Club; I could really do with you calming things down.”
She smiled and lifted a hand, running it through Thranduil’s amazingly soft hair. “Are Thorin’s kids causing trouble again?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Yes, and Daisy’s on the warpath. Bilbo’s worried his wife’s going to go into labour early with all the carrying on, and Thorin’s determined to drink every bottle of beer he can lay his hands on.”
She sighed and leaned her full weight back in his comforting hold. “Maybe them buying the house two doors down wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she said with a laugh. “It’ll be anarchy every night.”
“Just wait until Fili and Kili come for a visit,” he snorted quietly.
“Oh hell…”
He murmured softly and pressed a kiss against her neck. “Bilbo’s always been the sensible one, my love. He’ll keep an eye on them from across the street and kick arse if he needs to.”
“Little quiet Bilbo…who would’ve thought he’d turn into a pitbull in the courtroom?” she wondered.
“Hey! Mum! Dad! Everything’s going to be burned if you guys don’t come and help,” Legolas bellowed from the yard.
“That sounds like our cue,” Thranduil said, and stood back up to his full height. He cast a glance around the side of the house.
Two of Thorin’s children, fifteen year old Claire and seventeen year old Daniel, were dancing in perfectly synchronised moves to the hip-hop that was blasting out of the speakers placed on the window ledge. Nineteen year old Legolas was tending to the barbeque, until a rugby tackle from Thorin’s twelve year old son Nathan sent him sprawling onto the grass. Bilbo’s wife was curled up on a sun lounger, one hand protectively over her growing baby bump, while her husband was chasing their three year old daughter Blossom in a vain attempt to catch her. Daisy was talking to Tauriel, Legolas’s girlfriend, her hands gesturing wildly.
“Thorin! Kili just called,” she shouted over the music and the noise of the kids horsing around. “He and Fili’s offer for the restaurant in Main Street has been accepted!”
A chorus of cheers loud enough to wake the dead sounded, making Thranduil smile. He extended his hand towards Lia.
She accepted it, tugging against his weight to rise to her feet, and tipped the cold remnants of her coffee out onto the sand. The couple walked hand in hand towards the yard and its occupants.
The rest of the Boys of Summer were back.
To stay.