Page 2 of Say You Want Me
When the singer began another song, Charlotte recognized the opening chords of “Landslide.” The young woman’s interpretation was raw, stripping away pretense to reveal the vulnerability at the song’s core. Her voice cracked slightly, adding an authenticity that made Charlotte’s throat tighten.
She should leave. Walk back to her rental cottage, answer the emails piling up in her inbox. Instead, Charlotte remained frozen on her rocky perch, transfixed by the tableau before her—youth and freedom personified in firelight and music.
The ocean continued its rhythmic conversation with the shore, a counterpoint to the guitar’s melody. Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the convergence of sounds to wash over her. When she opened them again, the singer was looking directly at her across the expanse of the darkened beach.
2
Taylor’s fingers stilled on the guitar strings as the final note of the song faded into the crackle of driftwood. Across the darkened stretch of sand, the woman on the rock remained fixed in place, her posture unmoving. The firelight didn’t reach her, but the moonlight caught on the line of her shoulders and the way her hair shifted with each breath of wind.
Taylor set the guitar gently beside the weathered log that had become her makeshift stage for the night. “Thanks for letting me play,” she said, her voice carrying lightly to the small circle of newfound acquaintances huddled around the fire. Their faces, flickering in the firelight, bore expressions of contentment, and a few thanked her for singing. “And thanks for the beer,” she added. “I’m going to head out.”
She slipped her flip-flops into one hand, feeling the straps dangle lazily from her fingers, and stood, allowing herself a moment to relish the comforting coolness of the sand as it sifted between her toes. The group, absorbed once more in their own orbit of laughter and strumming guitars, murmured goodbyes and invited her back again another night. Their camaraderie was a pleasant hum beneath the quiet song of the ocean beyondthem. Taylor gave a small wave, though she knew their attention had already shifted to who would sing next.
Without another glance back, she turned, her feet sinking into the sand, her steps drawing her toward the woman sitting on the rock.
The distance proved longer than it appeared. Each step sank into the yielding sand, and the tide pulled steadily at the shore. Most of the town had gone quiet. She should have turned toward the road and the short walk to the room she was renting. Instead she kept moving forward, aware of the woman’s outline becoming clearer with every step. The woman’s hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, and the open collar of her blouse revealed the faint glint of a silver chain against skin.
The woman looked even more striking up close. Taylor felt the sudden hum of awareness that usually meant trouble, a magnetic pull toward a stranger. Her gray-blue eyes held a weight of intelligence that made Taylor’s pulse thrum against her wrists. She liked the way the wind teased several strands of blond hair across the woman’s face and the focus in her gaze.
Taylor hesitated momentarily, the question catching in her throat before she let it tumble forward. “Is it okay if I join you?”
The woman shifted slightly on the rock, edging to one side, an unspoken invitation etched silently in her movement. “Sure, of course.”
Taylor lowered herself onto the remaining surface. She set the flip-flops beside her bare feet. Salt touched her lips when she breathed in, and beneath it came the faint crispness of the woman’s perfume—something clean that mixed with the ocean in a way that pulled at the back of her throat.
They sat without speaking for a moment. The woman’s gaze stayed outward, toward the water, but the line of her mouth softened at one corner.
“You have a beautiful voice. The kind that makes people stop in their tracks,” the woman said. The words came slowly, as if she measured them before letting them go. “Not many singers manage that. Especially from this far away.”
Taylor’s pulse moved faster at the base of her neck. The compliment landed with a warmth that didn’t feel like flattery. It felt like the woman had been listening all the way through, and the thought settled low in Taylor’s stomach.
Taylor’s bare toes curled into the sand. A warmth spread through her, a low hum that started in her chest and unfurled down her arms. A compliment coming from a gorgeous stranger was something that Taylor didn’t even know she needed.
“Thank you,” Taylor managed, the words rougher than she intended. The ocean’s steady hush filled the pause between them. “I noticed you listening.”
The woman turned her head fully now. Moonlight slid along the elegant column of her neck. Her eyes held a spark that felt like an invitation rather than an accident. “I was walking along the shoreline after leaving a bar. I just wanted to clear my head before I called it a night, but then your voice cut through everything. It pulled me in, and I forgot what I was thinking about. I had to stop and listen.”
The confession landed softly, the woman’s mouth curving with the faintest hint of a smile. Heat bloom across Taylor’s chest, spreading upward in a slow crawl. This woman wasn’t just beautiful. She moved through the world with a sophisticated sensuality that simmered beneath every careful word, every subtle shift of her long, wavy blond hair that fell past the swell of her breasts.
Taylor swallowed, her throat dry despite the humid night air. “Thank you. That’s uh… A really nice thing to say.” She pressed her lips together for a second, willing her usual flirty self to show up and help her before she made this awkward. “I’m Taylor.”
“Charlotte.”
“So what brought you down to the beach at this time of night?” Taylor asked, keeping her voice even though her pulse was jumping in her throat. The question felt safer than the pull building between them, safer than admitting how Charlotte’s composed posture made her want to lean closer, to test the boundaries of this unexpected encounter.
Charlotte’s gaze drifted back toward the dark water. The breeze lifted a strand of her hair, brushing it across her cheek before she tucked it behind one ear with a Dianeful motion. “I’d just come from that bar up the beach. I had a drink, turned down an offer from someone far too young for me, and… Now I’m not so sure what I want anymore. Or if I’m even capable of figuring it out tonight. I just wanted a weekend away from my normal life. I thought I might be ready to put myself out there again.” She gave a small, self-aware laugh that didn’t carry any real bitterness. “But even when I had a promising offer, I just… I wasn’t interested. I didn’t feel that spark, and maybe I’m setting the bar way too high. I don’t know.”
The words should have sounded heavy, weighed down by whatever history lingered. Instead they landed with a lightness that invited rather than repelled. The air between them thickened, charged with the scent of the ocean and the distant smoke from the dying bonfire. Taylor’s skin prickled where their thighs nearly touched on the narrow rock, the proximity sending small electric currents racing along her nerves.
“Maybe you didn’t meet the right person at that bar,” Taylor suggested, her voice dropping lower without conscious effort. She watched Charlotte’s profile, the way her full lips parted slightly as another wave rushed forward to kiss the shore.
There was something about Charlotte’s presence that felt magnetic, drawing Taylor in with a force that went beyond herphysical beauty. It was the way Charlotte held herself—confident yet strangely vulnerable in this moment.
Charlotte shook her head, the motion causing her necklace to catch the light again, a tiny flash that mirrored the spark in Taylor’s chest. “I’m not sure there’s anyone out there for me. I already had my shot at love. Twenty years with someone who matched me in every ambition, every drive. We built impressive careers side by side, but somewhere along the way we forgot what the point of it all was. The divorce was amicable on paper, but it left me wondering if that kind of connection was just a one-time thing in my life.”
The confession hung between them, raw and honest, yet Charlotte delivered it with a quiet strength that only made her more compelling.
Taylor’s heart ached in recognition, not from identical pain but from the depth she heard there. Her gaze traced the faint laugh lines at the corners of Charlotte’s eyes, the set of her jaw, the way her silk blouse clung just enough to hint at the curves beneath. Beautiful didn’t begin to cover it. Charlotte was the kind of woman whose allure grew stronger the longer you looked.
