Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Keaton was glad Layne had mentioned not getting up at the crack of dawn and rushing back to Driftwood Bay.
It allowed him to make love to her leisurely, knowing no deadlines were hovering over them.
His tongue followed every curve of her body, his hands caressing every bit of her flesh.
He was quickly learning what brought delicious shivers to her.
The inside of her elbow was sensitive, as was the place behind her ear.
As they lay entwined, he ran his fingers through the silky strands of her caramel hair, wondering at how he had become so lucky.
“Fate,” she said, almost as if she had heard his thoughts spoken aloud. “Fate led us to one another.” Her fingers trailed along his jaw. “I like you with stubble. It’s so sexy.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Well, I like you without clothes.” He dragged his thumb across her nipple, seeing it spring to life.
She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“But I’m your incorrigible.”
Her fingers brushed the hair from his brow. “You most certainly are.”
Layne kissed him, a soft, sweet kiss which had him ready for another round of sex. He held off, though, liking the sheer pleasure of intimately lying together.
“Are you ready to go home today?” he asked.
Her gaze met his. “Home is wherever you are.”
Keaton made love to her again. Slowly. Tenderly. A satisfaction filled him, and he realized it was contentment, something he’d never truly experienced during his lifetime.
“Let’s take our time on the way back to the Bay,” he suggested.
“You have a stop or two in mind? Besides Buc-ees?” she teased.
“Oh, that’s a definite. I’m thinking we might spend a few hours in Salado. They have several art galleries there. Some antique shops.”
“If you have the time, I’d like that.”
“Babe, we have all the time in the world.”
They showered together and then dressed.
Keaton had them stop at a place she enjoyed for breakfast. She ordered the Texan special, which came with eggs, bacon, hash browns, and biscuits and gravy, while he went with pancakes and sausage.
They wound up feeding one another bites of their own breakfast, something he had thought was hokey when he’d seen others in public restaurants do so, but with Layne?
It seemed perfectly natural.
He stopped by her house, and they made a few trips, bringing out what she would take with her to the Bay and covering it with the heavy tarp which had protected his paintings on their trip north.
The painter Liza had hired had already come and gone, and the garage door looked pristine again. Keaton sensed Layne’s relief at that.
They drove to Salado with a quick stop at Buc-ees for gas, a restroom break, and drinks, arriving in Salado two-and-a-half hours after they had cleared the Dallas city limits.
He parked the truck, and they set out on foot, hand-in-hand.
They stopped at two art galleries and a glassblowing shop, and Keaton bought Layne a pitcher in hues of greens and blues which she had admired.
After stopping for a snack at a café, they visited two antique stores and another art gallery. He had never been a browser, instead entering stores and going straight to whatever he wished to purchase. Having Layne with him changed everything. He was seeing the world through new eyes.
The eyes of love …
“Oh, we have to go in here,” she declared, pulling him into a candy store. “I am a fudge fiend.”
“Ah, now I know how to have my wicked way with you. Regular? Dark? Blond?” he asked, naming some of the different kinds of fudges he saw on display. “Wait.” His eyes continued skimming. “Red velvet fudge? Rocky road? German chocolate? This place is amazing!”
They asked to sample a few of the choices, including butterscotch and peanut butter fudge, purchasing both of those and three other kinds. He also picked up bottled water for them, and they went to sit in his truck, savoring their sweets.
“I think you should open a fudge shop in the Bay,” he told her, biting into a piece of dark chocolate fudge. “It would be a big hit.”
“Hmm. I’ve never thought about opening a business, much less something food-related. You know I can’t cook.”
“I’ve shown you it’s easy. We’re going to practice lots. Soon, it’ll become second nature to you.”
She frowned. “Maybe cooking meals, but I’m thinking fudge is an art.
Still, it’s a good idea, bringing fudge to the Bay.
Or I might come up with another shop. Mila’s mom owns Coastal Charm Boutique.
I could pick her brain. She’s got her pulse on the community and might be able to steer me in the right direction. ”
He leaned over and kissed her, tasting red velvet. “There’s no rush. You should focus on the inn’s reno first.” He slipped his hand around her nape, drawing her closer for a lingering kiss. “Besides, you’ll be living with me.”
Layne shook her head. “I’m going to pull my weight. I had enough of Jeremy freeloading off me. You’re not going to be my sugar daddy, Keaton. I’m smart. I’ll figure things out and bring in money.”
“You will. How about finding some cute B&B here in Salado and staying for the night? We can call it research. You can see how it’s decorated. What amenities they include.” He smiled. “And we could test out a new bed. What do you say, Spunky?”
“Ugh. I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that nickname. Promise me you’ll never use it again, and we can find a B&B and have wild sex all night.”
“You’re on.”
Instead of pulling out his cell and finding somewhere to stay, Keaton simply drove around, the Driftwood Bay way. They spotted several B&Bs and decided on one with a gingerbread look about it. It wasn’t hard to book a room. The clerk told them they were wide open.
“People are gone, seeing relatives for Christmas. I’m glad you two are checking in.”
She told them what time breakfast was served in the morning. Keaton asked if anywhere nearby delivered, and the clerk named a pizza place.
“Thanks. We’ll be eating in tonight,” he said, taking Layne’s hand and leading her upstairs to their room.
His appetite for her was insatiable, and she was the same about him. It was as if they had both been starved for affection. That, combined with the connection they experienced, made for a very entertaining night.
Once they dressed the next morning, Layne said, “It’s about two hours until we reach San Antonio. You want to keep playing hooky today?”
“Why not?” he agreed. “Joey’s crew won’t come until early next week. You haven’t heard anything from Chief Roberts yet, so the funeral is still on hold. I’ve driven through San Antonio but never stopped.”
She looked shocked. “Seriously? The Riverwalk is inviting. Romantic.”
“Sold!” he proclaimed.
They went downstairs for the B&B’s breakfast, and Keaton could tell Layne was observing everything with a critical eye. Once they had paid the bill and were inside his truck, heading south, he asked if she had seen anything she would want to implement at the Bay Breeze.
“I liked the fresh flowers in our room. Even though they weren’t booked up, the room was ready for anyone to step into and feel welcomed.
What I really liked were the freshly-baked croissants that came with breakfast. I wonder if they contract out to a bakery for those. Guests would go wild over them.”
“Who could do that in the Bay?”
“Seaside Sweets Bakery,” she replied. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been there. You’ve lived in town over six months.”
He shrugged. “Though I enjoy them, I just don’t think about buying sweets.”
“Says the man who polished off his fair share of fudge yesterday.”
“I can’t remember the last time I had fudge. Maybe never. Sweets just weren’t on my radar.” He didn’t remind her that growing up in foster care, sweets were a luxury that most orphans never tasted.
“While you were settling the bill, I did wander over to the beverage stand. It had a coffeemaker, with a basket of pods. There was also a tea caddy with a great variety, both regular and decaf herbal teas, so you could simply run hot water through the coffeemaker and make a cup of tea. I think guests would find that convenient for a mid-afternoon pickup or maybe an after dinner beverage to sip on.”
“You could put a table in the alcove just off the foyer,” he suggested.
“That would be perfect.” She took out her phone and tapped a note to remind her later.
They arrived in San Antonio at a quarter before noon, and Layne directed him where to park.
She led him down a set of stairs, and it was as if they entered another world.
Wide sidewalks shaded by huge trees lined a narrow river.
They began walking beside it, passing shops, hotels, and restaurants.
Every so often, a stone bridge appeared, allowing pedestrians to cross from one side of the river to the other.
“I wish we were here at night,” she said. “It’s lit up for the Christmas season.”
“We can stay over if you want.”
“No, maybe some other time.” She glanced around. “It’s crowded because of the holidays. School is out. People are in town, visiting relatives. I’d rather come back at a quieter time of year.”
He made a mental note to bring her back. Maybe when they finished the reno at the B&B, they could steal away for a couple of days and return here. Stay on the river. Eat. Take in a Spurs game.
“Want to stop for some lunch?” she asked. “Plenty of Mexican food places along the way. Also pizza. Barbeque.”
“You choose.”
Layne laughed. “If you leave it up to me, then it’ll be Mexican every time. Come on. I have a place in mind.”
They walked for almost ten minutes, arriving at a restaurant which had a good two dozen tables lining the water. The day was cool but not cold, with plenty of sunshine, and so they opted to eat outdoors.
Keaton went with brisket tacos and a pork tamale, while Layne ordered tacos al carbon. She insisted he take a bite of the tender steak, and he enjoyed such a simple gesture of her sharing with him. They split an order of flan for dessert, the creamy custard topped with a rich caramel sauce.