Page 68 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

“How dare you talk to my friend like that,” Lucy says in mock anger. She stands up and pulls Marilee to her feet, and my eyes can’t help but linger for a moment on her powerful legs in those jean shorts again. Her high ponytail swings over her shoulders that are both delicate and toned at the same time.

Marilee, for her part, is laughing, good-naturedly accepting Jordan’s teasing. “Fine, fine. I’ll play.”

“Let’s show them who’s boss,” Lucy says as she starts to drag Mare away. Then she looks back at me and Jordan. “Coming, boys?”

There’s a glint in her eyes, the way she’s beckoning me—commanding me—with a single glance that makes her just about the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. No way I’m turning down that challenge. I crack my knuckles. “Guess it’s up to me to take you down.”

“Oh, you think so?” Now Lucy’s rounding, stepping right back up to me, and we’re toe to toe in the sand. It reminds me of when she cornered me in my food truck a month ago—back when we were enemies.

How much has changed.

There’s always been a charge between us, but now it’s crackling like lightning that knows it’s about to be released. The energy is palpable, exciting.

Filled with possibility.

And I crave it. I want to pour it into my veins and explode. Lucy does that to me.

I lower my face so it’s within a few inches of hers. “I know so.”

She lifts on her tiptoes and places her hands against my chest—and a bunch of tiny explosions begin. I can hardly stand another moment without kissing this woman. The words I’ve wanted to speak to her for the last two days nearly fall from my loose lips.

Her own lips nearly skim the shell of my ear as she whispers, “I’d like to see you try to take me down.”

And that’s it. No way can I go stand on a volleyball court and pretend like all I want is to flirt with her from afar. I want so much more with Lucy.

My hands fall to her waist, and it’s my turn to whisper something to her. “Challenge accepted.” And with that, I press the tiniest of kisses to her earlobe.

She gasps, and the sound only reassures me that this is good, and right, and real.

Even though I’m fully present in this moment with her, I sense the gaze of others, starting with Jordan and Marilee. One glance at them shows they’re frozen, watching us with wide eyes.

Grinning, I grab Lucy’s hand. “You guys are going to have to excuse us for a minute. We’ll be right back.” Though I actually hope not.

Before they can say anything, I tug Lucy away, toward the cliffs abutting the beach just north of the inn.

“Blake,” she hisses. But she keeps trailing me.

I stop and turn, taking the opportunity to not just grasp her hand, but entwine every other finger of mine with hers. “Sunshine, if you don’t want to come with me, I understand. But I need to talk to you. So…please?”

She bites that lip I’m dying to kiss again, and nods. Behind her, the sun is sitting on the horizon, preparing for another glorious sunset. The Hallmark Beach gossips are probably watching, having a field day with the way we’re sneaking away. But I don’t care about them.

I only care about her.

What a strange and new sensation. If I’m not careful, I’d give up everything for this woman. I can’t quite do that—after all, I’m still the logical Blake I’ve always been, and I still have Dad’s words in my ear. But no longer can I pretend like those dreams of nebulous “success” are enough either.

I want to see if it’s possible to have both.

Want to see if Lucy is willing to try.

Finally, we reach the sandstone cliffs, where we’d find a perfect overlook for the coming sunset if we climbed to the top. But I don’t want to be up there for the world to see—both the crowd gathered on the beach and anyone who happens to be at the marina just north of here.

I want a world that’s made up of just me and Lucy.

So I steer us straight for an outcropping in the reddish brown rocks, where the sun’s rays only peek between, where the sand is dark and cool, where the air is damp. When we get there, tucked away from everyone else, even the sound of the ocean is muffled as I turn Lucy to face me, pressing her gently back against the wall.

There’s enough light that I still see every one of her perfect features. The bumps in her hair from where she threw it up in a rubber band. The slight upturn of her nose. The freckle at the corner of her mouth. The way she’s biting her lip, like she wants to speak but isn’t sure what to say.

And the questions in those eyes that I once thought were icy blue but have since come to think of as Lucy Blue. Wholly, utterly belonging to her and only her.

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