Page 34 of Love Out Loud

“Is that where we’re going?” I ask. “How unique.”

He spares me a glance as we pull out into traffic. “You can’t come out here and not go to the beach. We won’t walk the pier. Unless you want to.”

“This is your show. I’m merely along for the ride.”

He nods once, decisively. “We’ll save the pier for another day when we have more time. It’s iconic, if a bit cliché.”

“Should I have brought my swimsuit?” I don’t tell him I only have the one from Hannah, and I haven’t even tried it on yet.

“It’s always a little cold to swim,” he says as he pulls into a parking spot on the sand. Then, he turns to face me in his seat with a shit-eating grin. “We’re going to watch a proper sunset.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m never going to live it down, am I?”

“Nope.” He jumps out of the Jeep and makes his way to the back to get the supplies.

“Tell me you don’t have a kid who has woken up at five in the morning every day since she was in utero without telling me.” I swing my legs out of the Jeep and hop to the ground.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I am a sunrise person. I’m up every morning before the actual crack of dawn.” I take the blanket and wrap it into a bundle so I can carry it easily. “You are a sunset person, sleeping in as long as your heart desires and staying awake until well after the sun disappears. We live very different lives, my friend.”

“Well,” he says, tossing a book my way. A quick glance tells me it’s my copy of Sizzling Secrets. I tuck it between the blanket and my body as he continues. “This sunset is going to rock your world.”

“We’ll see,” I say skeptically.

“Completely upend everything you thought you knew about the rotation of the Earth,” he carries on lightheartedly as we make our way toward the water.

“Pretty sure the Earth keeps rotating, and that’s all anyone needs to know about it.” I keep my tone dry even as the blue expanse of the ocean right in front of me takes my breath away.

“It might even be a religious experience.”

“I kind of doubt a sunset has that kind of power.”

Lennon stops in what looks like an arbitrary place and drops the bag of food to the ground. “This is a good spot.”

I take in our surroundings. People in various states of dress walk around. Kids squeal as they dip their toes into the cold water and run back to their parents. A sand-volleyball game is in progress a few yards away. In the distance, the Santa Monica Pier stretches out into the water. The giant Ferris wheel rotates, the yellow-and-red basket seats swaying gently. “What makes this a good spot?”

Lennon works to spread the blanket out on top of the sand. He walks around it, tugging at the corners until it lays how he wants. “I can sense that you’re skeptical. I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

He motions for me to sit. I fold my legs underneath me and drop to the blanket. He starts taking boxes out of the bag from the wine bar and preparing our spread of food. When I try to help, he swats me away. “Relax. Let me do this for you.” His hazel eyes are so intensely focused on me that the cool, salty air blowing off the ocean isn’t enough to cool me down.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” I ask weakly.

He smirks and shrugs. “Whatever you want. People watch. Look at the ocean and contemplate life. Read your book.” He winks, and it sends a shiver up my spine. Luckily, he’s turned back to his preparations, so he doesn’t see me tremble from head to toe.

It doesn’t take long for him to set up the spread of food. It looks delicious—several cured meats, blocks of white and yellow cheeses, olives, grapes, and a little pot of honey. He rips off a small piece of a baguette and hands it to me. I top mine with some meat and cheese and honey and take a bite, moaning as the salty sweet taste hits my tongue.

I catch him watching me, and my cheeks heat. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I haven’t eaten anything in a while.”

He takes a bite and chews carefully as he looks out at the ocean. I watch his Adam’s apple as it bobs against his swallow. The surprising and completely inappropriate urge to lick his throat to see if it’s salty, too, crashes into me out of nowhere.

I turn away quickly and follow his gaze. The shimmering water lapping at the shore calms my heart. The rhythm of it is almost hypnotic, calling to me like a siren. Without thinking too much about how ridiculous I’ll look, I kick off my sandals and roll up my jeans before jumping up and running toward the water. When I reach the very edge of the tide, I slow to a stop. My toes just kiss the edge of the water as it laps in and out of the sand.

“Wimp.” Lennon’s taunt comes from right behind me, and before I get a chance to face him, his arms circle my waist and lift me off the ground. He easily throws me over his shoulder in a fireman carry and runs out into the ocean.

I squeal in delight as he turns me this way and that. Salty water splashes my face and touches the tips of my hair as it hangs behind him. His laugh is a booming sound. Bigger than the ocean. Larger than life.

The only thing grander might be my love for him. It pushes against the seams that have haphazardly stitched me together over the years, bursts out of my pores, and explodes from me. It feels like sunshine. Like joy. Like finally coming home.