8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Sebastian
“Everything tastes better at the beach.” Em moaned, licking her spoon before getting another bite of clam chowder.
Mac watched her, not at all trying to hide how much every lick affected him.
I rearranged the greasy vinegar and ketchup bottles on the table and wiped my hands off. “It’s a combination of the beach and the charming lack of reception.”
“Oh, the beach makes Bardot talk fancy,” Mac said, ripping his eyes away from our girl long enough to smirk at me.
“Admit it—it is nice.”
“I completely agree. And I kinda love it when you use words like charming. ” Mac stretched, rolling his shoulders. He was attractive as ever, even in the dim lighting of the hole-in-the-wall fish and chips place we had stumbled upon.
We had driven north from our hotel and kept going until we were in Ocean Park, just outside of Long Beach. It was a quiet, small town with one blinking light at the busiest intersection.
I had come here a few times with Em and Rob on family vacations years ago, and it was just like I remembered. It was exactly what we needed to get away from the rest of the world and reconnect.
Em finished her bowl and glanced up. “Are the two of you already done eating?”
“You didn’t notice Savage scarf down his fish and chips in maybe three minutes?”
“Hey, I still have a few fries.” Mac nudged me and smirked. “As if you’re one to talk. Did you even taste your sandwich?”
“I burned a lot of calories this morning.” I scowled at him, and he laughed.
“Good, because tonight’s workout is going to be legendary.” He smirked and popped a stray fry into his mouth as he kicked back in the vinyl booth.
“You get a good night of sleep and the sass comes out.” I raised my brow and stole his last fry. “Keep it coming and I’ll put you in your place the second we get back to the hotel.”
“Promise?”
The mischievous glow in his eyes made me laugh.
“The beach was a good idea,” Em said, on our way out the door. “We’ve been so stressed, and I needed this break.”
“Let’s be better about it.” Mac grabbed both our hands, and we ambled down the sidewalk outside the restaurant.
A small woman approached us, and I pulled back, letting go of Mac’s hand and hating myself for being self-conscious of our relationship in public.
“I haven’t seen you around before. Are the three of you new to Ocean Park?”
Mac stepped forward, mercifully taking the lead. “First time here. At least for me. These two have been here a few times.”
“Did you just come from Doug’s?” She motioned to the faded sign behind us.
“We did.”
“Well, you stopped at an excellent place for lunch. Be sure to check out the candy store three doors down.” She closed her eyes and put up her hand, revealing deep red, perfectly manicured nails. “The best you’ll ever taste.”
A taller, balding man wearing a glaringly bright blue shirt strolled up. “Find some new friends, Susan?”
“This is my husband, James.” She smiled lovingly at him, squeezing his arm. “This is—”
Mac put out his hand. “I’m Michael. And these are my fiancés, Emily and Sebastian.”
I held my breath, but Susan and James didn’t even flinch as they shook our hands.
“We’re having a BBQ in an hour. You three should join us.”
“We couldn’t impose—” Em began.
“Nonsense. Our whole family will be there. Like fifty people. You’re not imposing.”
I would have never talked to these strangers in the first place, but I knew this was exactly the kind of thing Mac thrived on and Emily enjoyed. And this vacation was for them to unwind, too. I was perfectly content with just the three of us, but they found social settings refreshing. I didn’t want to be the one to hold them back, so I plastered on a smile.
“We would love to come.” I got out my phone and typed in their address as James relayed it to me.
“The directions can be a little wonky. When you get to a crossroads and the map tells you to go straight, take a left. There’s an old school bus that sits right in the middle.”
“Noted.” I typed the extra instructions and sent them to our group message.
We said goodbye to Susan and James after they gave us their number in case there was any confusion, and Mac stood there, silently gawking.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“You made plans,” Em said.
My stomach sank, and I grabbed my phone. “We can cancel. I should have asked you guys first—”
Em reached for my hand, stopping me. “You didn’t do anything wrong—”
“Unless you don’t want to go,” Mac cut in.
I watched our hosts’ retreating shapes as they got into their car. “It’ll be fun.”
“Beach Bardot has surprises up his sleeve,” Mac said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I like it.”
“I know this is what you enjoy doing and I want to put myself out there more. I never want to hold the two of you back—”
“But we don’t want you to be anything other than you.” Em grabbed my hand, lacing her soft fingers with mine. “We’re going to grow and change over the years, and I’ll love every version of you—just like I’ve loved every version so far—but I want those changes to be of your own accord. Not because you’re trying to be what you think we want.”
Mac frowned at her, but the look was quickly replaced by his signature smile. He wrapped his arms around both of us and he steered us toward the beach approach.
“I need some sand between my toes.”