ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟠 #2
I looked up at him, discovering he indeed was not looking at my eyes, but instead, at my chest.
I snapped my fingers. "Yoohoo, my eyes are up here."
He hesitated after a moment before looking back up at me.
"Sorry, I was just admiring you."
I snorted. "That's like asking me to pull down your pants so I could admire your penis."
Cameron grinned at me sheepishly. I watched as the tips of his ear went pink. He then put his hands on the waistband of his trunks.
"I mean, I could. Do you want me to-?"
I quickly held his hands, not daring for him to move.
"No," I breathed out. "Don't...don't do that."
His grin widened immediately. "Sorry, so what were you saying?"
I sigh, getting back on track.
"I mean, California people probably live on beaches. They probably wake up at five in the morning and run ten miles before breakfast."
He let out the tiniest laugh. "I don't know about that."
"I do."
"They all have perfect teeth." I continue.
He smiled. Just proving my point.
"You have perfect teeth. They're California perfect." I gestured with my hands.
"I don't know what that means."
"Neither do I."
I sighed. "I just...I don't want people staring."
I finally looked back up. He was already looking at me.
"What?" I asked.
"What?" he said.
"You keep staring."
"I'm listening."
"No, you're not."
"I am." He smiled to himself.
"What?" I asked again.
He took one slow step toward me, until there was barely any space between us.
"You've spent the last five minutes telling me everything that's wrong with this bikini." He whispered.
"I have."
"And I've spent the last five minutes trying to figure out what you're seeing."
I frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
He reached up, gently brushing one curl back behind my ear. "I don't see any of it. I'm serious."
"Okay, well you have to say that."
"I don't."
"You do."
He shook his head. "No."
His thumb brushed lightly across my cheek. "I see my wife."
I opened my mouth, but hesitated.
"I see the woman who still takes my breath away."
"Cameron..."
His smile was soft. "So busy looking for flaws that she forgot my first thought was..how did I get this lucky?'"
My face grew warm almost instantly.
"You are..." I looked away "so cheesy."
"I've been called worse."
"And you're laying it on thick."
"So we're going to the beach?"
"We're going to the beach." I said, trying to change the topic.
"I knew you'd say yes."
"I didn't say I'd enjoy it, big guy."
"I'll make sure you do."
There was something so confident about the way he said it that, against all logic, I found myself believing him.
~
The walk from the hotel to Baker Beach wasn't very long.
But it was long enough for me to complain about the heat six separate times.
Long enough for Cameron to remind me ten separate times that California was, in fact, supposed to be warm.
The beach slowly came into view as we rounded the last bend in the path.
It was honestly beautiful.
I hated admitting that.
The Pacific stretched farther than I could even see, the water sparkling underneath the afternoon sun like someone had scattered millions of tiny diamonds across the surface.
Waves rolled toward shore one after another.
Children chased each other near the waterline, couples walked barefoot, tiny dogs sprinted after tennis balls.
California really did look like those postcards people mailed home from vacations.
I still thought it was too bright.
"I knew you'd like it." Cameron suddenly said. I glanced up at him.
"I didn't say that."
"No, but you were thinking it."
I smiled. "No I wasn't."
"You were."
"I love how committed you are."
He leaned over, kissing the side of my head before adjusting the beach umbrella balanced across his shoulder.
I sighed dramatically looking ahead at the beach. "I should've stayed at the hotel."
"You would've missed me."
"No way. I would've enjoyed my peace and quiet."
"Well, I definitely would've missed you."
That shut me up.
Finding a spot wasn't difficult.
Cam picked somewhere close enough to the water that we could hear the waves clearly, but far enough that we weren't constantly getting sprayed every thirty seconds.
He immediately went into what I could only describe as firefighter mode.
Everything unfolded with military precision. It was scary until you realized he was just a big teddy bear.
I watched him work for a moment. "You're strangely efficient."
"I've been told. It's called being prepared."
Within five minutes, our little section of beach somehow looked like we'd been living there all morning. Cameron stepped back proudly, admiring his small work.
"There."
I looked around. "You even packed snacks."
"I always pack snacks. I know you like fruits."
I reached into the cooler. "A coconut drink?"
He smiled.
"I stopped at the stand while you were still fixing your hair."
"I figured it'd surprise you."
It did.
I twisted the cap open before taking a sip.
It was cold and sweet.
Perfect.
I smiled into the bottle before I could stop myself.
A few minutes later Cameron reached behind one of the chairs.
"Almost forgot." He pulled something long from beneath the blanket.
Surfboards.
I blinked, a little surprised.
"You brought surfboards?"
"I did."
"I can see that."
He held out the light blue one toward me. "This one's yours."
"I rented it."
I looked at it. It was lightweight, a little smaller than his. Exactly the size I'd always preferred years ago.
"I haven't surfed in like, decades."
"I know."
He smiled gently. "You were good, though."
"No, I was seventeen."
"You were still good."
"I almost drowned." I looked down at the board again.
Funny.
I'd forgotten I'd ever liked surfing.
Before law school, internships, courtrooms.
Before everything.
I guess Cameron and I were similar in a way. There was always some kind of pressure on us from our parents.
"You wanna go?" He asked quietly.
I hesitated. The waves rolled steadily behind him.
For a second, I thought about saying yes.
Then reality settled back over me. "I think I'll stay here."
He nodded twice.
"Okay."
"You don't mind?"
"I just wanted to ask." He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss against my lips.
"Maybe next time." he finished.
Maybe.
That word felt safer than no.
I watched as he jogged toward the shoreline, surfboard tucked beneath one arm. I watched him weave effortlessly through the crowd.
Someone recognized him almost immediately.
A little boy, maybe around eight. He pointed excitedly at Cameron's board before saying something I couldn't hear.
Cam crouched down to the boy's height, smiling as he answered whatever question he'd been asked.
The kid grinned from ear to ear.
Of course, Cameron stopped. He always stopped.
Then he waved once in my direction before jogging the rest of the way toward the water.
I smiled despite myself.
The first wave caught him almost immediately.
He paddled out farther, then waited.
I seriously hadn't seen him look happier.
Completely, ridiculously happy.
The wind pushed his hair back as he rode another wave toward shore before cutting back out again. I don't think I'd seen him smile like that in months.
Firefighting gave him purpose.
But this looked like freedom.
I took another sip of my coconut drink, then reached into the beach bag.
Sunscreen was the first thing I grabbed.
SPF fifty, just how I liked it. I always thought I never needed it because, well, I was black. But after hearing that it reduced wrinkles, I started wearing it a whole lot more.
I squeezed some into my palm before rubbing it carefully over my arms, shoulders, neck, and face.
I wasn't about to let California roast me alive.
Finished, I looked back toward the water.
I froze.
Cameron.
He was already halfway to another wave. My eyes narrowed.
He'd forgotten sunscreen!
Of course he had.
I watched him paddle farther out.
Blond hair, bare shoulders, hours of California sun.
Oh, he was going to regret that. Badly.
I could practically hear the conversation after already.
"My back is killing me."
"I wonder why."
"Can you put aloe on it?"
"Absolutely not."
I'd absolutely put aloe on it, I mean, I'd complain the entire time, but I'd do it.
I leaned back into the chair, pulling my sunglasses down a little farther as another wave carried Cameron toward shore.
I tucked one leg beneath the other on the lounge chair, absently tracing circles around the rim of my coconut drink with the straw.
The drink was surprisingly good.
I took another sip before looking back toward the water. Cam had already paddled farther out than everyone else.
Naturally competitive.
He'd always liked pushing himself.
A larger wave began rolling in. I watched him lie flat against the board before paddling hard.
Then, in one smooth motion, he stood and balanced effortlessly. The board cut across the face of the wave while sunlight bounced off the water around him.
I couldn't surf like that. Not anymore.
Truthfully speaking, I wasn't sure I ever could. He made difficult things look easy.
That was probably his greatest flaw.
People assumed nothing cost him effort, but they didn't see the years behind it.
Baseball, fire academy, business meetings, late-night workouts.
Every scar, every blister, every failure. He worked harder than almost anyone I'd ever met.
He just never complained about it.
Another surfer wiped out spectacularly beside him. Cameron glanced over immediately. I watched as he circled back toward the man instead of continuing his ride.
Even from this distance I could tell he was asking if he was alright.
The surfer laughed before Cam laughed too. Then they both paddled back out.
I smiled into my drink.
Darn firefighter.
Even on vacation. Some things never changed.
A breeze rolled across the beach, lifting a few loose curls around my face. I tucked them behind my ear before leaning farther back into the chair.