Logan
Iplanned the night before she kissed me. The fact she did made it that much sweeter.
Dinner reservations at a seafood spot right on the beach, followed by a walk at sunset. Ellie deserved to be reminded just how special she was, how a man should treat her.
At first, I put it together hoping to lift her spirits. To remind her she was loved, no matter how loud the noise got in her head.
But after that kiss… everything shifted.
Her lips on mine weren’t anything I could’ve prepared for.
She was lightning.
My pulse, my breath—everything was at her mercy the second she wrapped her legs around my waist. Holding her like that, tasting her for the first time, had been the highlight of my year.
There’s no world where I ever forget the first moment Ellie Cassidy kissed me.
I’ll be old and gray, sitting on a creaky porch swing somewhere, still thinking about the way she made me feel.
The urgency in her lips.
The way she tasted.
The way my hands fit against her skin like they’d been made to hold her.
“Dinner was amazing,” Ellie said beside me, her arm looped around mine as we walked away from the restaurant toward the beach.
The sun had already started dipping toward the horizon, casting soft, warm light across everything. We were right on time to catch the sky burst into color.
“All-you-can-eat crab legs? Count me in every time,” I said with a laugh.
She grinned up at me. “All-you-can-eat anything and I’ll be first in line.”
We reached the edge of the sand, and I bent to kick off my shoes, glancing up as Ellie did the same. We carried them in our hands as we crested the dune, the crash of the waves echoing ahead of us like a rhythm only the two of us could hear.
Gone were the sounds of families, kids squealing, beachgoers bustling.
Now it was just the tide, the breeze, and her.
“Wow,” Ellie breathed, her voice soft with awe. Her smile was so bright it damn near knocked the air from my lungs. “That is stunning.”
Texas sunsets were always beautiful, casting their fire over the mountains and spilling golden light across wide-open fields.
But this?
A beach sunset, the way the sky melted into the water, light dancing across the surface like it knew it had an audience?
That hit different.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” I murmured, but I wasn’t talking about the sky.
I was staring at her.
The fading light wrapped around her like something sacred. It kissed her cheekbones, highlighting every curve of her smile. The sun turned her golden-blond hair to liquid light, and her eyes—God, her eyes—looked like they were lit from the inside out.
I didn’t need the beach. I didn’t need the view when I had her.
With the open stretch of sand ahead, I gently nudged Ellie to the right, steering her toward the setup I’d arranged.
“What is that?” she asked, squinting as we walked toward it.
“Looks like a blanket,” I said, feigning curiosity. “Maybe a basket? Are those pillows?”
I knew damn well they were.
“That’s one lucky girl,” Ellie murmured, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face.
If I hadn’t been the one who planned it, I might’ve felt guilty for the hint of disappointment in her tone, like the reminder that someone else could be loved like that stung a little.
She was that lucky girl.
All of this was for her.
“Let’s go sit on it,” I said, nudging her gently again. The blanket and basket were fully visible now, glowing in the golden light of the setting sun. But Ellie stopped cold. She grabbed my arm, trying to tug me back with a sudden burst of panic.
Her heels dragged in the sand like a cartoon character putting on the brakes. “No! Logan, that’s someone’s setup! We can’t just sit on it!”
“Why not?” I grinned, turning to face her, my back to the display.
“Because we don’t know when they’re coming back!”
I made a show of scanning the beach for signs of people, then took her hand and started walking forward, slow and deliberate, until my heels brushed the edge of the blanket.
“Looks like they’re already here.”
Ellie’s eyes widened, her mouth parting slightly as she took in the gingham blanket behind me, then looked up at me, and then back again. Her gaze locked onto mine, the dawning realization written all over her face.
“You?” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief and something softer underneath.
“Me,” I said.
Her hand stayed tangled in mine as I pulled her a little closer, my body casting a shadow over hers in the dipping sun. She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of awe and confusion.
“You deserve to feel special, Ace.”
Her breath caught. “How did you even do this? We’ve been together all day.”
“I hired someone online. They came out while we were at dinner, got it all set up.”
I nodded toward the blanket, smiling. “Come on. Sit.”
She let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh and followed my lead.
Now we were side by side, the ocean in front of us, the sky painted in streaks of gold and coral. A bottle of champagne peeked out from the basket, catching the light.
And there she was, Ellie Cassidy—wrapped in sunset, soft laughter still lingering in the air—lying beside me like she belonged nowhere else.
“This is incredible. I don’t even know what to say,” Ellie murmured, lying on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. Her gaze swept over the scene, full of wonder and something softer.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said gently, sitting up and reaching into the basket. I pulled out two champagne flutes, handing one to her before keeping mine.
“You did all of this… for me?” Her voice drifted off, the words tender and fragile.
She didn’t fully understand it yet, but I’d do anything for her. A blanket on the beach? That was just the beginning.
Nerves twisted through me like a slow, tightening knot.
I wanted to tell her everything—how I felt, how I loved her.
How I’d always loved her. Since we were kids.
Since those round cheeks and that crooked little smile first burned themselves into my memory.
But I didn’t want to scare her off. This moment was too important.
I had to find the right balance between saying enough and saying too much.
“I, uh…” I started, fumbling.
Turning the champagne bottle away from us, I popped the cork. It shot into the air with a loud pop, echoing across the beach. I poured a glass for her first, then for me, licking a few drops from the rim before setting the bottle aside.
“You what?” she asked, amusement and curiosity dancing in her voice.
I took a breath and shifted so I was facing her, lying on my side. Our knees brushed over the blanket.
“I really like you, El.”
The words felt too small for what I meant, but they were a start.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just held my gaze with quiet steadiness, like she was giving me space to say more.
“I may have had a crush on you for… well, the last fifteen years,” I said, exhaling.
“I never found the right time to tell you. I didn’t even know if this was the right time, but then we kissed earlier and…
” I looked away, running my finger slowly around the rim of my flute to calm the ache of nerves now growing in my chest.
“Huh,” she said softly.
I froze.
That huh sent my stomach spiraling. It wasn’t a no. But it wasn’t a yes, either. My shirt suddenly felt like it was sticking to my back, like every insecurity I’d ever had was shouting at me all at once.
“A crush? For fifteen years?” she asked. I nodded, hesitant, stealing a glance at her. She was staring toward the horizon, out over the ocean.
Calling it a crush felt safer. It was the ground floor, when what I was really standing on was something so much deeper. But it was a place to start.
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” I added, my voice quieter. “And me being… well, me, I just didn’t have the balls to say anything.”
“Until now,” she said, finishing for me.
“Until now,” I echoed.
I looked down, my thoughts spiraling. Was the kiss earlier just a fluke? Was I reading too much into this? Had I waited too long?
Then her hand came up and covered mine, stilling my anxious circling of the glass. Her fingers were warm, grounding. My eyes lifted to hers.
“Logan,” she whispered, and smiled.
Soft. Sweet. A smile that told me maybe I wasn’t completely crazy.
“I know with everything going on, telling you I was into you even a little bit wasn’t the best.”
“No way,” Ellie laughed, shaking her head, but her hand remained over mine. “It was great timing. And you planned this to tell me that?”
I gave a small shrug and bit down on my bottom lip. “Kind of. I wanted you to feel special. And, selfishly, I took the moment to tell you how I felt.”
She squeezed my hand and brought it to her chest, pressing my palm over her heart. I could feel the grounded rhythm beneath my skin.
“My heart is full,” she whispered. “I feel pretty damn lucky right now. Not just for this—” she looked around at the blanket, the champagne, the fading sun—“but for you. You dropped everything to make sure I was okay. You took me on a spontaneous road trip just to help clear my head. You gave me space to breathe, to figure out what I needed before I potentially made a choice I couldn’t come back from. ”
“Whatever you need, whenever you need it…”
“You’ll be there,” she finished for me, her voice soft but sure.
At least she knew that much—that she meant everything to me.
“Good thing I think you’re pretty handsome too,” she added with a little smirk.
My eyes widened, and I let out a short laugh, shaking my head like some awkward schoolboy. My cheeks flushed, and the grin tugging at my lips refused to be hidden.
Ellie released my hand, and I instinctively brought it back to my chest, using the motion as cover to take another sip of champagne—to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“And about the kiss earlier,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly like she was teasing but also… serious.
My gut clenched. “I’m sorry if that was too forward,” I blurted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
But her face, her expression, immediately told me otherwise.
“Don’t you dare apologize for that,” she said. “It was… pretty nice.”
“Huh,” I murmured, a grin creeping in again as a flicker of confidence sparked in my chest. I turned toward her, reaching out and placing my hand on her cheek. My thumb swept gently across her skin in slow, reverent strokes.
“Kind of nice?” I teased, my voice low.
Her gaze flicked between my eyes. “Hmm,” she hummed, not quite answering, inviting me to close the distance instead.
“Would it be okay if I did it again?”
“I think so,” she whispered.
I leaned in carefully until her lips met mine.
I cradled her face in my palm, holding her there as I kissed her gently at first, then deeper, drawn in by the warmth of her mouth and the delicate brush of her breath. Her taste was electric and divine, like sweet champagne.
We parted just for a second, a breath’s width between us, before our mouths found each other again.
This time, I slid my tongue against hers, and she met me there, opening up, welcoming me in. Our kiss deepened, unrushed and aching, as if we’d both been waiting years for this exact moment. Everything about her felt natural, familiar. Right.
When we finally broke apart, I lingered, our foreheads almost touching—just letting the moment settle between us.
“You can do that whenever you want,” she said, bringing the champagne flute to her lips, her voice soft but laced with meaning.
“Noted.”