Chapter Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Cyrus
Reece and I pulled into the boardwalk parking lot just as the sun was setting. The place was packed, and after driving around for what felt like ages, we finally managed to find an open spot.
“Ready?” Reece said when we got out of the car.
He held out his hand, and I paused, staring at his outstretched fingers.
Was he asking what I thought he was asking?
I stood there, frozen.
He snapped his hand back, rubbing it along the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry about that. I thought, you know, because we’re here, we could do the whole out-in-the-open thing.”
“No,” I blurted, feeling absolutely awful that he’d misinterpreted things. “I want to hold hands.”
I shuffled over to him and slid my hand over his biceps and down his arm, then pressed our palms together.
He brought our joined hands up to his lips and gave them a little squeeze as he kissed my knuckles.
“Good, because I want to hold hands, too,” he said. “I want everyone to see us together.”
My momentary bliss shattered then because, fuck, what were people going to think when they saw us together?
I was a spectacle in my own right, but when you put me next to an Adonis like Reece—in a romantic way with someone like him?
“Cyrus, it’s fine,” he said calmly.
It felt like my hearts were stuck in my throat. A tight nod was all I could manage.
These were my issues, not Reece’s.
He gave me a sweet, sincere smile, the last rays of the sun catching on his windswept hair, looking every bit the muse I knew him to be, and rather than adding to my anxiety, it eased it. He made me feel seen, appreciated for who I was, and as long as we were together, that was all I needed.
We walked hand in hand to the beginning of the boardwalk.
The wide wooden path stretched the length of the beach, with shops on one side and the ocean on the other.
The rich aroma of greasy food was heavy in the air, the murmured conversations drowned out by the sounds of carnival games and the steady thumping of footsteps over the wooden planks.
There were so many sights and sounds, I didn’t know where to look, but it also meant that everyone else was so preoccupied with everything going on around us that they didn’t give Reece and me a second glance.
“So, what do you want to do first?” Reece asked.
I stared down the long boardwalk. “There’s so much to do.”
“I mean, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. We can just walk. Enjoy the evening.”
“Why don’t we do that, and if anything catches our eye, we’ll stop?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
There were all the usual touristy shops that we’d poked fun at: airbrushed T-shirts, names on rice, hair wraps, and more cheap sundry shops than any town needed.
But there was one shop in particular that caught my attention. The sign read Old-Time Photos in a retro Western font, and two mannequins dressed in American frontier period clothing were positioned out front.
It would be an interesting way to commemorate our first trip together. What I hoped was the first of many.
I stopped and Reece stopped with me, staring up at the sign.
“You want to get an old-timey photo together?” he asked, obviously judging my choice of activity.
“Well, I did,” I huffed. “But not anymore.”
I started to shuffle off, but Reece stayed rooted to the spot, tightening his grip on my hand.
“If you want old-timey photos, we’re getting old-timey photos.”
Before I could argue with him, he was already dragging me inside.
Several families and couples were dressed in fancy period clothing. Sepia-toned photos lined the walls, showcasing the props and costumes.
“Can I help you?” an orc asked. She was dressed like a 1920s flapper, with a tasseled red dress and a feathered headband wrapped around her forehead. As a creature who was alive then, I was impressed with the historical accuracy.
“We’d like to get our photo taken,” Reece announced.
She tipped her head toward the counter. “You can look through those books, and when you find a scene you like, we’ll get you costumed and set up. Okay?”
We nodded and made our way over to the binders lining the counter.
I picked one labeled Historical to flip through while Reece flipped through another.
In every single photo, the humans and monsters were fully dressed in period-specific costumes, really adding to the effect of the photo. The best I could do was a hat and a jacket.
“I didn’t factor the costumes into the equation,” I murmured.
“Don’t worry,” Reece reassured me. “We’ll figure something out.”
I continued to thumb through the binder. There were couples dressed as mobsters, dandies, and sailors. There was nothing that really worked for Reece and me.
Just when I was about to lose hope, Reece said, “What about this one?” and held his binder open for me to see.
It was a Western scene of a cowboy and a saloon girl in a bathtub together—seemingly naked except for the cowboy hats and bandanas. The saloon girl was slumped against his chest, holding a bottle of whiskey over the edge of the tub like they’d just polished it off.
“This is what you want to get?” I asked with a laugh.
It was cute, but it was quite couply.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, his brows knitting together like I’d offended him.
“It’s just quite the couple’s scene, isn’t it?” I teased.
“Okay? What’s wrong with that?” he huffed.
Who was this man? And how had the goddess blessed me to be his mate? Each day he surprised me. We were growing closer, and as excited as that made me, I was still so scared of losing him once he found out the truth.
Reece put the binder down on the counter and waved the orc over. “We’re ready. We want to do this one,” he said, pointing to the bathtub scene.
“Sure thing,” she said without batting an eye. “Give me a few minutes to get everything set up.”
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” I grumbled as we watched her drag a galvanized steel bathtub in front of a saloon backdrop.
“Of course we do. We need something to memorialize our first trip together.” He leaned into me and placed a soft, unexpected kiss on my temple.
I reared back to gape at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Reece Rollins?”
He chuckled. “I’m not always an asshole. At least not to you.”
When she was finished setting up, she came back over to Reece and me.
“All right. Take your shirt off,” she told Reece bluntly.
Without a second thought, he slipped his T-shirt over his head, revealing his slightly sunburnt shoulders, defined abs, and delicious happy trail.
I swear it was like the shop went quiet, and every eye in the place was immediately on us.
Well, on Reece. I was both annoyed and honored that my mate’s body garnered so much attention.
“And you,” she said, looking me up and down, “are perfect just like that.”
She passed Reece a worn cowboy hat and a red bandana.
“Do we really need to wear bandanas in the bath?” I asked. It was part of the example photo, but it seemed quite impractical.
“Shh,” Reece hushed me. “It’s for dramatic effect.”
I broke out into laughter. For someone who was skeptical about doing this in the first place, he was really getting into it.
“Will a bandana work with your fins?” the woman assisting us asked.
“Yes, I can just tie it right underneath them.”
She handed me a hat and a bandana, but before I could put the bandana on, Reece plucked it from my hand.
“Allow me.”
He came up behind me, carefully tying the bandana just under my fins like I’d mentioned. I could feel each of his hot breaths against my neck. Smell his woodsy aftershave.
“Th-thank you,” I stammered when he stepped away from me.
He smirked, obviously aware of the effect he had on me.
“Looking good,” the orc said. “Now hop in the tub.”
Gods, she cut right to business. I guess you had to at a place like this.
“Let me get behind you,” Reece said, already climbing into the tub.
“You? Behind me?” I teased.
He tsked, rolling his eyes. “I know that’s not our usual position, but humor me just this once.”
I let Reece get comfortable in the back of the tub before I settled myself in front of him. With the two of us in there, it was quite cramped.
“Okay, now lay back against him for me,” the orc instructed.
Every time I tried to lean back, my cowboy hat got in the way, hitting Reece in the face or tipping off my head completely.
The orc stepped out from behind the camera, staring at the two of us with her hands on her hips. “Let’s see…Can you hang some of your tentacles over the edge of the tub?”
I readjusted, and let a few of them casually drape over the side.
“Now, take this,” she said, holding my hat out to one of my tentacles, “and this.” She passed me the whiskey bottle before she stepped back to look at us. “Perfect!”
She took her place behind the camera and told us to smile as the shutter clicked and the flash hummed.
“You two are a cute couple,” she said as she snapped away with the camera.
I tensed up, unsure of how to react to that statement.
“You hear that, Cy?” Reece asked. “She thinks we’re cute.” We were posing for a picture, but I could still hear his smile—his happiness—in his voice.
It didn’t bother him in the slightest.
I relaxed and settled against Reece’s warm chest. “I think we’re quite cute, too.”
The photographer continued snapping away, stopping every few seconds to make tiny adjustments to our pose until she was happy with it.
“All right,” she said, finally stepping away from the camera. “You can get dressed and meet me back up at the counter.”
We took off our bandanas and hung up our hats, and when Reece slipped his shirt back on, I could have sworn there was a collective “Awww” that echoed through the shop.
The orc motioned us over to the counter. She passed us a tablet with an album of photos displayed on the screen and explained the different packages they offered.
Reece and I agreed that one printed photo for each of us would suffice, but then it was time to pick the photo we liked best.
“Fuck, this is hard,” Reece said as we scrolled.
“It is.” There were so many good ones.
“I really like your smile in this one,” Reece said.
In the photo, I was genuinely smiling, tipping my head back against Reece while he grinned. We looked adorable. Happy. It made me wonder if that was the photo she took right after she told us we were a cute couple.
“I like that one, too.”
“Um, excuse me,” he called out to the girl assisting us. “Can we get two copies of number four printed and get the digital album?”
She nodded. “You’ve got it.”
A few moments later, she slid a bag across the counter toward us.
“All right, two eight-by-tens and a digital album. That will be eighty dollars,” she said, holding the tablet out to us.
I pulled up my tap-to-pay on my phone, but Reece already had his bank card out of his wallet.
“Will you let me?” I protested.
He shook his head and tapped his card against the tablet. “You can get me my funnel cake and my lemonade.”
I snorted. Him and that damn funnel cake. “Fine.”