Chapter 33 Anthony
Anthony
The weather app said today would break seventy for the first time all year.
I get up before the sun, fill a cooler with way too much food, grab some blankets and cushions, then drive to the trailhead.
The whole way there I’m buzzing. Not the caffeine kind.
The kind that only kicks in when I know I’m about to do something that’ll make her smile.
I park at the end of the lot where no one ever bothers with this trail, it’s a bit too long and sandy for most people.
The sand’s still cold under my boots. The first time I ever saw was after Mia told me she had been here, so I came to check it out and it’s been one of my favorite places to sit and read ever since.
Then, I thought: Lila would love this place.
Even then, before I’d ever touched her, I thought like that.
I finish and make my way back to the parking lot as her car pulls into the lot.
Mia’s car, actually. She’s been borrowing it ever since she divorced Eli.
I watch her step out, sunglasses already on even though it’s early, hair up in a loose knot, a hoodie zipped all the way to her chin.
She spots me, waves, then starts up the path, sneakers already sinking in the soft sand.
I meet her halfway. “Hey, gorgeous.”
She takes off the sunglasses and gives me this look, a full-body scan up and down, like she’s making sure it’s really me. “You look like a handsome lumberjack,” she says, but she grins as she says it.
“Better than looking like, I don’t know, a masked stalker” I laugh and wink at her, her grin widens. “How’s the drive?”
“Long. I hate driving in sand; it’s like walking on the moon.”
I laugh and take her hand, leading her down the trail. “You ever been to the moon?”
“I don’t need to, I have you for that. You find the weirdest places.”
“Yeah, but this one’s special,” I say, and I mean it. “Wait until you see the view.”
She looks at me over her sunglasses. “You sound like a realtor. Next you’ll tell me the HOA fees are low.”
“Only fee is you have to eat everything I packed,” I say, and she laughs, really laughs. It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. I’d kill to make her do it more.
She slows down and tugs on my hand. “Can we take a break? My calves are dying.”
I let go and wait while she sits down on a chunk of driftwood. She pulls the hoodie sleeves down over her hands and just sits there for a minute, staring at the ocean.
“You want a piggyback?” I offer.
She snorts. “You want to carry my fat ass through a mile of loose sand?”
“First of all, don’t call my girl that. Secondly Fuck yeah. You think I can’t?”
She gives me this sly look, and for a second I know exactly what she’s thinking: she wants me to prove it. So I do. I squat down, let her climb on, and stand up with her arms locked around my neck.
She squeals, but not loud enough for anyone to hear, because there’s no one out here this early. “I was kidding! Jesus, Anthony, you’re gonna throw your back out.”
“Please. You weigh less than a rescue dummy,” I say, and she smacks me on the chest. “Hold tight.”
I walk the rest of the way to the gazebo, her clinging to me and giggling in my ear. The last stretch is the hardest, but I’m not letting her down until I reach the blanket. When I finally do, I kneel and let her slide off onto the cushions. She’s breathless and a little pink in the face.
“God, you’re a showoff,” she says, but there’s pride in her voice.
I sit next to her, open the cooler, and hand her the thermos. “Try it.”
She takes a sip, eyes going wide. “You made it with oat milk. You remembered.”
“I always remember.”
She sips again, then looks out at the ocean. “It’s beautiful,” she says, and this time she means it. “You can’t see any houses or people. Just water and sky.”
“That’s why I like it.”
She tucks her legs up under her, careful to keep her shoes off the blanket. “Did you ever come out here when you were, you know, watching me?”
“Yeah,” I say, no point lying. “A few times. When things got rough.”
She turns to look at me, chin on her knees. “How the fuck did you even move through this sand without getting totally exhausted and without me hearing you?”
I grin. “I’m very athletic and very sneaky.”
She rolls her eyes. “No, really. You’re huge and you walk like a cat. It’s unnatural.”
“It wasn’t easy. But it was worth it.”
She stares at me for a second, then shakes her head. “You’re insane.”
I reach into the cooler and hand her one of the sandwiches. “Eat. You’ll feel better”
She takes a bite, chews thoughtfully. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s really good. Like, suspiciously good.”
“I used to cook for my team,” I say. “They’d kill each other if I didn’t keep them fed.”
She snickers. “Were you the mom of the group?”
“I guess you can say that. I was the boss. The boss always feeds the crew.”
She holds up a strawberry. “And these? Is this some kind of metaphor?”
“Nope. You just always eat them first.”
She pops it in her mouth, chews, then licks her fingers. “You’re a weirdo, but I like it.”
We eat for a while, not talking much. The wind picks up a little, but the sun is strong enough to keep us warm. She leans back on the cushions and closes her eyes, face tipped up to the sky.
I watch her for a long time, just breathing her in. The way she relaxes when she’s with me, the way her lips part a little when she’s thinking, the way she fidgets with the edge of the blanket when she’s not sure what to say.
After a while, she cracks one eye open. “What are you staring at?”
“You.”
She smiles. “You’re sappy as hell, you know that?”
I shrug. “Only for you.”
She sits up and pours herself more hot chocolate. “So. Tell me about your rescue missions. You never talk about that stuff.”
I hesitate. I don’t like talking about work, especially not the black ops shit. But she asked, and I’d rather she hear it from me than anyone else.
“It’s mostly retrievals,” I say, keeping it simple. “People get lost, or taken, or sometimes they just run from their consequences. We go in, get them out, bring them home. Sometimes it’s kids, sometimes it’s adults, sometimes it’s…” I stop, not sure how much to say.
She waits, patient.
“Sometimes it’s ugly,” I finish. “But it’s better than leaving them there.”
“Did you ever get hurt?”
I laugh. “All the fucking time.”
She eyes my chest, where the scar runs from my pec down to my ribs. “Is that one from a rescue?”
I nod. “Yeah. Guy didn’t want to come back. He had a knife, and I let him get close. Stupid move, but it worked.”
She traces the scar with her finger through my shirt, soft and slow. “I like it. Makes you look dangerous.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You like dangerous?”
She grins. “Only when it’s you.”
I lean in, kiss her hard. She tastes like strawberries and chocolate and a little bit like sunshine. She kisses back, hungry and rough, biting my lip just enough to hurt.
I pull her into my lap, wrap my arms around her, and squeeze until she squeaks. “Can I tell you a secret?” I say, mouth against her ear.
She shivers. “Always.”
“I used to come out here and jerk off thinking about you. On this exact fucking beach.”
She laughs, loud and sharp. “You’re disgusting. Where didn’t you jerk off to me?”
“Yeah, I am,” I agree. “But you love it.”
She kisses me again, and this time it’s slow, drawn out. Her hand slides under my shirt, fingers cold on my skin. I let her explore, let her take what she wants.
After a while, I pull back, eyes dark. “I want to fuck you,” I say, voice low.
“Here?”
I nod. “I want to remember this day forever.”
She doesn’t argue. I lay her down on the blanket, kneel between her legs, and strip off her hoodie and shirt in one move. She shivers in the breeze, nipples already hard. I kiss down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her chest. She arches up, hands in my hair, pulling me closer.
I make quick work of her jeans, dragging them down her legs. She kicks them off, shoes and all, and laughs as they land somewhere in the sand.
“You’re going to lose those,” I say, but she doesn’t care.
She tugs at my shirt, and I pull it off, tossing it behind me. She stares at my chest, runs her hands over my abs, then lower. She wants me bad, and I want her worse.
I slide her panties down, slow, watching the way her thighs tremble. She’s already wet, dripping for me. I lick a stripe up her inner thigh, then blow cold air on her clit. She jerks, grabbing my head.
“Don’t tease,” she says, voice rough.
“You love when I tease.”
She moans, legs spreading wider. “I love when you fuck me.”
I lick her beautiful pussy and suck and flick her clit until she comes apart. But I’m not done.
I flip her onto her stomach and pull her ass up, just like she likes. I line up and push in, slow, letting her feel every inch. She gasps, face buried in the blanket, hands fisted in the fabric.
I pound into her, hard enough to shake the whole fucking gazebo. She tries to muffle her screams, but I know she wants to let them out.
I lean over her, hand on the back of her neck. “You’re so fucking good for me,” I whisper.
She pushes back, meeting every thrust.
I give her what she wants. I fuck her so hard the blanket slides on the wood. She’s loud, but I cover her mouth with my hand so no one can hear her. Her eyes go wild, and I know she loves it.
“Take it,” I say, voice low in her ear. “Take all of me, baby.”
She comes so hard her whole body shakes. I keep going, chasing my own release. When I come, I grab her hip, digging in hard enough to leave marks. She moans into my hand, then goes limp, spent.
I pull out slowly, then lay down next to her, both of us breathing hard. She rolls onto her back, face flushed and eyes glassy.
“I hope no one else is out here,” she says, voice barely there.
I grin, brush the hair off her face. “You’re fucking perfect.”
She laughs, soft this time. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
I pull her close, wrap her up in my arms, and stare out at the ocean. “Not today.”
She’s here, and that’s all I ever wanted.