Page 79 of Arranged To Be Mine

He stepped out and I watched him walk to his car. He turned at the driver’s door and waved. I waved back, then closed the door before I could do something stupid like invite him to stay.

Professional. I needed to keep this professional.

25

BEAU

Iwoke early on Saturday morning, which was not usually my favorite thing to do, but I was looking forward to the day. I jumped out of bed and peered out the blinds. Clear blue sky. Hallelujah.

I walked downstairs and stepped outside. It wasn’t cold, but a little cool for swimming. That was fine. Today wasn’t about surfing and getting in the water at all. I stood there for several seconds like I could communicate with Mother Nature.

“Please give us a good day,” I said.

There was a very soft breeze but nothing dramatic. It wouldn’t blow away the umbrella or toss sand in our faces. It was going to be a lovely day.

I started the coffee and went through my mental checklist, dragging everything I needed out to the patio to drag down to the beach.

Umbrella, beach chairs, towels. I pulled the ice chest from the garage and dumped a bag of ice into it. Then I arranged a twelve-pack of craft beer along with a few cans of soda and bottles of water. Couldn’t have a beach day without ice-cold beer. I added a selection of snacks to the cooler, then headed back inside to shower and change.

By the time the doorbell rang at nine, I was ready. Board shorts, a loose tank top, and a ridiculous level of anticipation I hadn’t felt in years. I opened the door to find Darcy standing on my porch looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

She wore a flowy white cover-up that fell to mid-thigh, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, with a beach bag she clutched to her.

“You look terrified,” I said.

“I’m not terrified.” She pushed past me into the house. “I’m just prepared for disappointment.”

“That’s the spirit.” I closed the door behind her. “Come on. Breakfast first.”

I led her to the kitchen where I’d set up a spread on the island. Fresh-squeezed orange juice, bagels with cream cheese, and a bowl of fruit I’d picked up from the farmer’s market yesterday. Nothing fancy but solid beach-day fuel.

She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and reached for a glass of juice. “Looks amazing.”

“I doubt the fruit will be as tasty as yours, but I did my best.”

We ate standing at the counter, keeping it casual. She spread cream cheese on half a bagel. I watched her take a bite. A little dollop of cheese clung to her lip.

Fuck me. I wanted to lick it off. Her tongue darted out and took care of it.

She popped a strawberry into her mouth, her eyes drifting toward the windows and the ocean beyond. I caught the slight furrow of her brow, the tension in her shoulders.

“It’s just a beach,” I said gently. “It’s not going to bite you.”

“I know that.” She took another sip of juice.

We finished the breakfast and I put away our leftovers.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders like she was heading into battle, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

We walked out my back door and down the wooden steps that led directly to the sand. A few other beachgoers dotted the shoreline, but this stretch was relatively private. One of the perks of the neighborhood.

I found a good spot about halfway between the water and the dunes, close enough to hear the waves but far enough that we wouldn’t get soaked if the tide came in. I drove the umbrella into the sand, then unfolded the chairs and positioned them in the shade.

“Your throne awaits,” I said, gesturing grandly.

Darcy lowered herself into the chair like she was sitting on a bed of nails. Her posture was rigid, her hands gripping the armrests.

I settled into the chair beside her and cracked open the cooler, pulling out two beers. “Too early?”