Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Kendall
“We could, but we aren’t going to.” I raise my eyebrow.
Although I wouldn’t mind… I want more than another night with him.
The feelings that roll through me when I’m around him—I know I can’t do casual with him.
Is that all he wants, to be casual? I thought this was a date, an actual date to get to know each other better.
Maybe start something with him, but my life is too busy with work and my friends to get involved with someone who is a one-night guy.
“Hey,” Dane says as he tips my chin with his fingers. “Where’s that smile that I love?”
I try to fake it, but I’ve never been good at that.
“You’re terrible at faking it.” He winks at me. “I know when it’s real. You can’t fool me.”
I laugh and shake my head. “What are we doing today?”
“It’s a surprise. Come on.”
He lingers close to me for another few seconds. He touches my arm one more time, leaving a wake of fire on my skin. Then, he moves his hands down to mine, clasps them, and tugs me to him.
“Today will be a day we remember as one of the best dates ever.”
“You’re pretty confident.”
He stands up a little taller. “Yeah, I am.”
Twisting and dropping one of my hands, he interlaces the other with mine. He guides me outside to his car and opens the door for me to slide in. I watch him stalk around the car, flexing his arms as they move through the air.
Is it hot in this car?
He sits in the driver’s seat and looks over at me. “Ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Sweetheart, you always have a choice with me.”
With my hand raised to my heart, it melts with his voice. Then I realize he called me ‘sweetheart.’ Oh, that’s probably just a reflex, but I’m hopeful it’s not.
I feel the blush on my cheeks as he reaches over and gently moves his fingers over my cheek. The feeling sends warmth ripping through my body and down to my core. Every nerve ending is firing one after the other. I want him to touch me forever; I like how his touch makes me feel.
He turns over the engine, and we drive, listening to his playlist. My kind of music: all 90s and 2000s. There was one point where we were both singing along. Me into my imaginary microphone, and him shouting at the top of his lungs. Carefree. Fun. Memorable moments.
“Are we almost there?”
He brings his hand over to touch and squeezes my leg. “Almost.”
He leaves his hand on my thigh. With slight hesitation, I lay my hand on top of his. His eyes meet mine, and neither of us can help but smile—at each other, at the heat radiating from where we are touching.
I break eye contact to look out the windshield, and in front of us are the beach and the ocean. “I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
“We can walk on the beach if you want, but I have other plans.”
I’m giddy, but keeping it in is hard. I love surprises. I love the beach. No doubt he’s going to hit this date out of the park, but I’ll keep that to myself for now. Don’t want it to boost his ego too much. I giggle to myself.
“What’s so funny over there?” He shakes my leg a bit as he parks near the entrance to the beach.
“We have VIP parking?” I ask, shocked.
“Only for the best.”
He jumps out of the car, runs around to my door, and opens it up.
He stoops down with one hand outstretched; I take it, and he lifts me to my feet.
Our fingers intertwine as we walk on the sidewalk for a few minutes.
The salty sea air invades my nose. While I sneak a peek into each store we walk by, there are a couple of gift shops where you can buy sweatshirts and T-shirts, boogie boards, and sand toys.
Then there’s a jewelry store with a window display of aquamarine pieces—rings, necklaces.
A consignment shop with racks on the sidewalk of bright colored shirts and dresses.
I’m tempted to lead him into the store, but I’ll wait for the walk back.
He stops abruptly at a restaurant called Nick's On the Boardwalk, opens the door, and guides me inside. It’s nothing like I expected.
Dane seems like an over-the-top kind of guy, but this restaurant is far from it.
I’m not disappointed; actually, I'm pleasantly surprised.
There are lobster traps and a large net with fake lobsters hanging from the ceiling.
My eyes need to adjust to the dark wood floors and dim lighting.
The hostess says, “Table for two?”
“Yes, can we grab a seat on the patio?”
“Of course, right this way.”
She leads us through the dark and somewhat dingy dining room.
If they turned the lights up a bit, it might not be that bad.
The sun is blinding the moment we step onto the patio, music vibrating through the speakers, and people talking and laughing fill the air.
And the most perfect high-top seat by the railing overlooks the beach and ocean.
Ships passing by, a cool breeze on my face, and over on the left is the boardwalk.
“Here are your menus, and your waitress will be over shortly.”
“Dane, this is surprisingly breathtaking. You had me there for a minute. The inside was a bit dark and dingy.”
Dane laughs and scratches his beard. “I wondered what you were thinking. Though you didn’t leave too much to the imagination with the scowl that was on your face.”
“I did not.” Slapping him on his arm, yet feeling slightly embarrassed that I probably had a face on. It happens. I try to keep it locked up, but it occasionally escapes.
His eyes squint at me while still scratching his beard. “If you say so. Let’s order some drinks.”
Since it’s only a little after noon, I have a margarita. The waitress comes over, and he gestures for me to order first. Then, he says, “I’ll have an IPA; you choose.”
“Okay, I’ll be back with your drinks and a round of water.”
The vibe is laid back, with everyone wearing beachwear and sandals or flip-flops. It's my kind of place.
We both open up the menu and browse it. The lobster roll is calling my name. I close the menu and gaze out onto the beach. People watching at its finest. Kids playing in the sand, people walking around, some alone, some in groups, and others holding hands. It’s a mix of everyone doing their thing.
“Let’s play a game.”
He looks at me with his head tilted. “A game?”
“Yeah, people watching is fun; add another layer and we have out-of-this-world fun.”
“You had me at fun. What’s this game all about?”
I move closer to him and whisper, “You pick out a couple and tell their story.” I nod my head to a couple of tables over. “She’s his boss. He was her intern. They’ve been hiding it for a year. She’s about to tell him she’s pregnant.”
He gasps and presses his hand to his heart in horror. “She’s pregnant? You went there.” Laughing, he adds, “and he’s about to tell her he applied for a job in Florida.”
“See? You’ve got the hang of it already. Okay, it's your turn to pick a couple.”
Swiveling his head around, he searches for the right couple, and then I see it too. A couple close to the boardwalk. They look like a hot mess; tension roils between the two as they talk face-to-face.
“She’s a yoga instructor, and he wanted to get close to her, so he signed up for one-on-one classes. Now, they are stuck in the are we dating or are we just getting sweaty together phase. She wants more, but he’s emotionally stunted from his last relationship.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing. “Kind of reminds me of someone I know.”
“Bold, very bold. I’m more selectively…open.”
“Such a lawyer answer.” Shaking my head at him, I lean back in my chair.
The waitress is at our table with our drinks. I mouth to him, ‘saved by the bell’.
“Thank you,” he says politely.
We order. Surprisingly, he ordered fish and chips.
I wouldn’t have pegged him as a fried fish guy.
I shrug. Once she leaves, I say, “Alright, my turn.” Scanning the unsuspecting couple, there they are: the woman, dressed in a crop top and shirt; she tosses her beach-wavy hair as he talks to her.
Biting her bottom lip, she leans in further to him.
He looks like a preppy boy, wearing blue board shorts with a crisp, collared white polo.
“She likes him…a lot. They met while in college, and now that they’ve graduated, they’re seeing if they work off campus. He’s not sure if she’s it for him. See how his body language is reserved, and hers is engaging?”
“Interesting observation. Want to know what I see?”
I nod my head and mumble, “Yes.”
“We’ll stick with their meeting in college. You think she is totally into him, but I see she’s overcompensating for something. Her body is practically on the other side of the table. He’s questioning why she is over the top while out in public.”
“Skeptical much?”
“I call it like I see it. Something is up with those two. One of them is going to break it off tonight.”
“Don’t you dare send bad juju to that couple!”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sending bad juju.” His tone sounds apologetic, so I’ll let it go, but there’s more to this story. And I’m going to find out what.
“What would people say if they saw us?” I ask, my chin in my hands, looking at him with dreamy eyes.
“They’d say you’re hooked, can't get enough of me, and we’re going home together.”
“Arrogant, yet you sugarcoat it with confidence.” I shake my head.
We are interrupted by the waitress placing our lunch in front of us. The oversized lobster roll stuffed with chunks of lobster that I can’t resist picking up and taking a huge bite.
Dane stares at me with a smirk on his face.
Covering my mouth as I chew, asking, “What?” while shrugging.
“Nothing…it’s nice to see you are comfortable enough with me to shove it in your mouth like that,” he laughs and continues to look at me with wide eyes.
Did he really just say that? I laugh and practically choke on my food. Coughing, I grab my water to clear it out and give him a wicked grin. “Careful, Dane…you keep talking about me shoving things in my mouth, and I’m gonna start wondering if you’re offering dessert before we even finish dinner.”
After I finish swallowing and taking a sip of my margarita, I clear my throat. “I love a good lobster roll, and this one might be the best I’ve had in a long time.”
He picks up his fork and dives into his fish and chips. “I could watch you eat all day, moaning with each bite.”
“I do not moan while I eat.” I roll my eyes.
“Um, yes, you definitely do. Go ahead, take another bite.” He shoves a massive bite of fish into his mouth.
I tip my glass ever so slightly and run my tongue along the salted rim. Taking my eyes from the glass and slowly looking up through my lashes at him, he just about choked on his food, coughing.
I slam my glass down. “Oh my, are you okay?” I mean it, but there’s a tinge of sarcasm in there. I knew he was watching, waiting for me to take another bite and ‘moan.’ In all fairness, I moan a bit when I eat good food, and this is so good. What else am I supposed to do? Stay quiet?
He grabs his water and swigs it a few times. He finally stopped coughing. “Okay, I take it back. I could watch you eat and drink all day,” he says while throwing me a wink for good measure.