Chapter 18 #2
Savanna brings her hands to trace my arm that’s holding her book. The light touch of her fingertips trailing the outline of my tattoos causes chills to erupt over my forearm. Her index finger freezes at the Roman numerals tattoo I got after graduating from basic training.
My first tattoo.
My heart thumps against my ribcage as I wait for her to speak.
“I think they can be good.” Her emerald eyes find mine. “If the circumstances are right.” Her voice edges toward nervousness as she brings my arm up to inspect the tattoo closer.
“Hmm…circumstances,” I ponder, roaming her side profile, taking in her slightly tan complexion glowing in the afternoon sun.
Nodding, she rolls her plush lips together. Something tells me she’s not talking about the book in my hands right now. “What do these numbers mean?” she asks, her finger sliding back and forth on my wrist. She tilts her face toward me, waiting for a response.
Shit. I was waiting for this. I take my free hand and scratch my jaw nervously, hoping Savanna doesn’t think I’m an obsessive stalker once I tell her.
After a few seconds, my throat clears. “Well, actually, it’s the date from the night of the bonfire.” My voice cracks.
Savanna snaps her head up from where she’s been studying my tattoo. I hear a gasp escape her lips. “Dalton…” She blows out a breath. “Why do you have that date tattooed on you?” Her eyes search mine, afraid of the answer.
I brush her cheek lightly with my knuckles. “Because...I wanted the date etched into my skin of the night I told Savanna Davis it had always been her.”
I hear the breath leave Savanna's lungs, her eyes searing into mine at my confession. “You got a tattoo to remind you of me?”
“I did.” My thumb traces her smooth jawline as I stare at her mouth. I’m so fucking close to kissing her out in the open.
“Dalton...” she starts before Drew’s groan makes us jump apart.
“I’m starving.”
Savanna and I whip our heads toward Drew in time to see her rubbing her belly with her free hand, the other still holding her fishing rod. It’s been an hour since Drew’s prized catch, and since then, not one bite.
Remembering the sandwiches in the cooler, I jump up from my spot beside Savanna. I grab the cooler from under the console along with a blanket that’s tucked into a storage bin.
“Picnic?” I ask, laying out the blanket. I open the cooler, take out the sandwiches and chips, placing them on the blanket.
Savanna eyes me. “Picnic, huh? When did you get these?” She points to the sandwiches.
“Oh, Savanna. This was all part of the plan.”
She snorts, clearly amused by my efforts. “Is that so? Well, in that case, how generous of you. Thank you.” She bats her eyelashes, taking a seat beside me.
“Food!” Drew shrieks after checking her reel for the hundredth time to make sure her worm bait is still attached to its hook.
I chuckle as she plops down on the checkered blanket and digs in. “Island Sandwiches are my favorite!” she declares around a massive bite. “Sooo good,” she adds while chewing.
“Drew,” Savanna scolds, “where are your manners?”
“Oh! Right! Thank you, Dalton. I was so hungry I almost took a bite out of that redfish in the livewell.”
“Drew,” Savanna warns, shooting her a look.
My shoulders shake with laughter as I watch her eat. “Well, you're very welcome, Drew. But wait…” I pause, lifting an eyebrow. “I thought pasta was your absolute favorite?”
Drew stops chewing and tilts her head, thinking. “Oh, yeah. I did say that." She then takes a sip from the juice box I packed for her.
I pull a beer from the cooler and hand it to Savanna. She smiles, taking it. Reaching over, I pop the top off, tilting my beer toward hers until they clink together.
“Cheers.” I smile.
Savanna’s brow lifts. “And what are we cheering to?”
“To being outfished by a little girl, obviously,” I say with a playful eye roll.
Savanna’s face lights up, her smile softening. “Well, obviously. I’ll cheers to that.”
Panic erupts inside of me as I steal a quick glance at my watch.
I’m not ready for this day to end.
“I’ve got an idea. How about I cook you, ladies, some of this fish we caught out here for dinner tonight?”
Savanna gnaws on her lip, twisting her bottle between her fingers.
“Yes, Dalton!” Drew squeals. “Please, please, please, come over.”
Savanna glances at Drew and shrugs, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Sure. We have no plans.”
I flash them a grin. Thank God. “Drew, since it’s your fish, you have to help me cook it, deal?”
Drew jumps up from her spot. “Deal! Does that mean I get to gut it, too?”
Wow, this kid has a serious fish-gut obsession. “Absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way.”
We exchange high-fives before she quickly finishes her food and races back to her reel.
Savanna finishes her sandwich, then gathers the trash and shoves it into the cooler. “Smooth, Dalton. Lunch and now dinner? Is this a ‘food is a way to a woman’s heart’ situation?”
I laugh, leaning into her, secretly wishing I could tug her onto my lap. “Well, it could be.”
“Dalton!” she shrieks.
“Just kidding, babe. I know the real way to your heart isn’t food. It’s my tongue between your thighs.”
Savanna’s face turns crimson.
After a few seconds, her flushed face settles as she studies me. Then, bold and confident, she leans in, invading my space. Desire radiates off her as her tongue traces a vertical line up my neck toward my ear, grazing the hickey she left me last night.
“You know me so well,” she purrs before pushing herself up and sauntering away.