Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JASMINE
Iwas blissfully happy. Gabe had gone out of his way to ensure I could get in the ocean without having to worry or hold back. I hadn’t even considered ordering supplies and having them delivered. The gesture was so thoughtful and sweet, it had nearly brought tears to my eyes.
We stayed out on the beach for a couple hours, soaking up the sun and enjoying the crystal clear water. I changed out of my wet bathing suit, and Gabe threw his shirt back on before hopping in his truck.
“Ready to head back?” he asked, and I wrinkled my nose.
“Absolutely not,” I replied tartly, shaking out my damp hair and combing through it with my fingers.
“You and I are going to play a round of miniature golf, and then I’m going to gorge myself on the biggest cluster of crab legs you’ve ever seen.
” I had the entire evening planned out. We would make the most of this long weekend together.
A satisfactory grin curved his lips as he reversed out of the parking spot. “I’ve never played miniature golf,” he confessed.
“Well, you’re in luck because I’m basically a professional, and I’m willing to take you under my wing and show you how it’s done.”
He chuckled and the low, throaty sound made my stomach dip.
Every sound this man made—hell, everything he did—was so damn sexy.
When he emerged from the ocean earlier with rivulets of water coursing down his chiseled body and his wet hair slicked back, I thought I might combust. It wasn’t fair that he could look that good and I wasn’t allowed to jump his bones.
Maybe that would change this weekend, I thought hopefully.
The miniature golf course was bustling when we arrived. We gathered our equipment and set out for the first hole. I went first, showing Gabe exactly what to do, scoring a hole in one right off the bat.
“Okay, that doesn’t look too hard,” he claimed. “I got this.”
He did not have this. At all. In fact, he was terrible. I continued to get a hole in one on the next few while it took him at least four swings to drop the ball into the hole. We fell into a fit of laughter when he launched his ball completely off our section of the course at hole five.
“Sorry,” he called to the people trying to play that hole. They begrudgingly retrieved the ball and tossed it back to him.
“Here, let me show you,” I began, stepping up behind him.
I reached around him and gripped the putter over top of his hands.
“You’re chopping at the ball. It’s a swinging motion,” I instructed, moving his hands and arms, miming how it felt to swing it properly.
He took a couple practice swings, but his posture was still too stiff, so I planted my hands on his hips.
“It’s all in the hips,” I said, guiding him through the motion.
“I feel like this should be the other way around. You’re too short. You can’t even see over me,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and playfully pinched his side. “Focus, Happy Gilmore. I’m trying to help you,” I admonished. He threw his head back and laughed.
“Does that make you Chubbs?”
“I guess so,” I answered with a chuckle. Once I was satisfied he at least knew how to swing a club, we resumed our game.
We stopped keeping score halfway through because, even though he’d improved somewhat, he was still hopeless.
He hit the ball off course a couple more times and each time he did, I reminded him, “Just tap it in.” He endured my good natured ribbing with grace.
We joked and laughed the entire time, and it felt like hanging out with my best friend.
Gabe and I had so much fun together. Our connection was so natural and genuine, I knew we could make each other happy if he would just give us a chance, but I wasn’t sure he ever would.
“Ready to eat?” I asked as we returned our putters and balls.
“Yes,” he groaned in relief. Like me, he was probably starving since all I’d been able to pack in our cooler were snacks and finger foods. Having my pump off for a while had ended up being a good thing since I wasn’t taking in my normal amount of carbohydrates.
“I know a place that has live music and incredible seafood,” I announced. Since I’d done this competition the last few years, I was familiar with the area and what it had to offer. I directed him where to go and fifteen minutes later, we were seated at a high-top table overlooking the harbor.
“Looks like we beat the crowd,” I remarked, opening my menu. The place was only half full and the band hadn’t begun to play yet, but I knew from experience it wouldn’t be long before the place was packed.
We placed our orders, and one by one, the tables began to fill up until there wasn’t an empty seat in sight.
Our food arrived just as the band took the stage, and they launched into their rendition of a high energy Travis Tritt song.
Soon the crowd was stomping, clapping, and spelling out trouble right along with them.
“You weren’t lying,” Gabe said as I expertly cracked open the first red shell on my plate, “that is the biggest cluster of crab legs I’ve ever seen.”
A big cheesy grin spread over my face. “What can I say? I’m a slut for shellfish.” He choked on the gulp of sweet tea he’d just taken and thumped his chest to make it go down.
“Shit, Jasmine, you can’t say things like that,” he croaked out.
“Like what?” I asked innocently in my best Elle Woods impression.
“You know what,” he replied, leveling his accusatory gaze at me.
“Oh, do you mean slut?” I asked, and his nostrils flared.
“Yes,” he asserted, but despite his protests, his eyes darkened as they seared into me.
“There are only a few things that I’m willing to be a slut for,” I said, the insinuation clear that he was one of those things.
Pulling the length of crab meat from the shell, I dipped it in melted butter.
Tilting my head up slightly, I brought the dripping end to my lips and sucked it into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks out as I did.
A dribble of butter escaped and rolled down my chin.
I swiped at it with my finger then placed it in my mouth so I could suck it clean.
“Mmm,” I moaned in satisfaction as I chewed. Gabe gripped the edges of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Jasmine.” His rumbled warning shot straight to my core. I loved when he growled my name. I didn’t care that it was usually in frustration. One day I’d make him growl it just before I made him come.
“You’re testing me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Good,” I replied saucily. “Maybe you’ll finally punish me.
” The heated look in his eyes promised exactly that, but the underlying pain that flashed in his stormy gaze gave me pause.
Maybe I needed to back off. Now that we’d shared a few intimate moments, my usual taunting held more weight than it once did.
Before, it had all been in good fun and to test the waters.
Now it was a stark reminder of what we both were missing out on.
Before either of us could say more, our waiter mercifully interrupted, returning to ask if we needed anything else.
“I’ll have another skinny blackberry ranch water,” I replied, needing the alcohol to quell the tension rising inside me.
I gazed out over the crowd as we continued our meal in silence, watching the happy couples dancing with a twinge of envy.
I wanted that to be us, especially when a slow song came on.
Much to my disappointment, he didn’t take my hand and lead me to the dance floor.
We were hundreds of miles away from my family and prying eyes.
No one knew us here. We could dance to our hearts content with him holding me close and me resting my cheek on his chest, but I wasn’t about to ask and get rejected.
A familiar face stepped into my line of sight, and my back straightened as that notion vanished into thin air.
His gaze snagged on mine and a slow smile curved his lips before he started my way.
I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for him to approach considering the way Gabe had reacted when he saw me talking to him a couple weeks ago.
It didn’t much matter considering he was only a few steps away.
“Hey, Jasmine,” Elliot Potter greeted as he stepped up to our table. “Ain’t this a pleasant surprise,” he crooned in that charming Southern drawl, his megawatt smile on full display.
Gabe stiffened and slowly shifted his attention to Elliot.
The bull rider I’d known for years from the rodeo was oblivious to the glare Gabe leveled on him.
He’d been furious when he saw me talking to Elliot that day at the show right after I’d gotten myself off in his lap and he refused to let me touch him.
I wondered how much angrier he’d be if he knew I’d messed around with Elliot last year while celebrating his big win.
“It sure is,” I replied, shooting him a genuine smile.
I liked Elliot. He seemed like a good guy and was always friendly.
I’d had fun with him that night a year ago, but when he asked for more, and I turned him down, he handled it like a true gentleman.
I’d dealt with plenty of guys who didn’t seem to realize that “no” was a complete sentence and “leave me the fuck alone” meant you were about to get kneed in the balls.
So I appreciated him handling my rejection with grace.
Even when he asked for a repeat the last time I saw him, he simply shrugged when I declined and told me to let him know if I ever changed my mind.
He congratulated me on my win today and told me he got second place on his run. Then, noticing I wasn’t alone, he turned to face Gabe.
“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Elliot.” He offered his hand for a shake, and Gabe reluctantly took it.
“I’m Gabe, Jasmine’s…” he began, his gaze flicking to me as he tried to decide on a label. “Trainer,” he finished, his brief hesitation seemingly going unnoticed.
“Nice to meet ya,” Elliot replied.
“Likewise,” Gabe said flatly.
Just then, the band began to play my favorite Brooks and Dunn song, and I perked up. “I love this song,” I announced. Elliot studied me for a moment before holding his hand out, palm up.
“Wanna dance?” he asked, and I reflexively looked to Gabe. His jaw ticced in annoyance, but he said nothing.
“You don’t mind if I steal her away for a spin, do ya?” Elliot asked.
“Not at all.” Gabe’s passionless voice cut through me, and I swallowed down my disappointment. I’d secretly hoped he’d tell Elliot to get lost like he had Brad.
Forcing a smile, I slipped my hand into Elliot’s and slid out of my chair.
There was no logical reason to turn him down.
I wanted to dance. He wanted to dance with me.
Gabe didn’t. I wanted to have fun, to live my life to the fullest, not waste it pining after a man who would likely never choose me.
So when Elliot led me onto the dance floor, I didn’t look back to see if Gabe was watching because it wouldn’t change a damn thing.