Page 18 of Someday Not Soon

I tilt my head up, squinting against the sun to look at Jude. “Thanks for that.”

“No need to thank me.”

Once again, ten years later, he has swung in to defend me from some pushy man. I know Icoulddo it myself—stand up and make my boundaries firm and clear. But there’s an undeniable relief in having someone in your corner, always ready to protect you, regardless of how many years have passed. This sensation is foreign, since no one in my family was ever a place I could go to feel safe.

But then there’s Jude, who does it so naturally without even asking anything in return.

Silently, he turns and walks back to the main canopy we have set up near the dune. I assume the conversation is over, until he returns a minute later, laying out his own towel, with a book in hand and two bottles of water.

He holds a bottle, glistening with condensation, out to me. “Water?”

I take it, thanking him and being mindful to keep our fingers from brushing.

We both turn back to our books in silence. I attempt to read, but my body hums with hyper awareness of the six-foot-four man beside me. Each word on the page becomes a blur as I attempt to read and reread the same paragraph, my mind unable to grasp any meaning.

Giving up on concentrating, I close my book and pivot to face him. He seems oblivious, unaware of my stare behind the shield of my oversized sunglasses. My chest feels bright when I look at him—the sunlight playing on his hair, painting his dark locks with a golden sheen, the furrow of concentration etched between his brows. An overwhelming urge prickles at my thumb, wanting tosmooth away the worried lines that form when he’s absorbed in thought.

“I know you’re watching me,” he remarks. The corner of his mouth ticks up, as he continues looking down at the massive book in his lap.

I should want to melt right into the sand and never return, but I can’t help the smile that erupts on my face instead. “What? No. I’m looking at the ocean. Besides, you can’t even see my eyes to be able to tell that.”

Looking up now, he gestures to my sunglasses. “I can totally see your eyes through those. Actually you might want to consider higher UV sunglasses to protect you from eye damage.”

“Okay,Doctor Beckett.”I say it teasingly, but I think I turned myself on a little by calling himdoctor.

Turning his attention back to his book, he quips, “I’m not looking again, you can go back to staring at me.”

“Oh, please. I think you like it when I check you out.”

“So we can admit, thatiswhat you’re doing?”

The blood rushes to my cheeks when I realize I outed myself. The real question is, who cannotcheck him out?

Honesty, I decide, is the best course of action here. I gesture towards his face. “You’re beautiful and you know it. I’m practically defenseless with that symmetrical bone structure of yours.”

“Sure, El. Imagine how I feel.”

“What do you mean?”

He closes his book, turning his full attention on me. “You’re easily the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyeson. I have to actively tell myselfnotto just sit there and stare at you.”

The air is sucked out of my lungs, veins running cold with ice despite the heat outdoors. I begin to open my mouth to say something. I’m not even sure what exactly, since it feels like I’ve been gut punched by the most genuine compliment I’ve ever received. But as if fate is playing a cruel joke, a seagull flies by and poops right on the towel between us.

That seagull probably knew I was about to say something I couldn’t take back. I should be thanking it by tossing a few chips its way. Instead, I end up gagging as I spot the fresh splatter of bird feces inches away from me.

Jude jumps up, grabbing napkins to clean it while I sit there, thoroughly disgusted and of absolutely no help. As he wipes at it, he looks up at me with a grin. “The seagull burglar strikes again.”

I grab his arm, the one he’s cleaning with, intending to tell him how much I’ve missed this—our dynamic that’s so natural and easy. The moment my fingers brush his skin, he stills, and our eyes lock. A current of electricity seems to hum between us, buzzing where my hand meets his forearm. “Jude, I?—”

With more unfortunate timing, Delaney runs up with Cole trailing protectively behind. She’s shivering and laughing from swimming in the numbingly cold Pacific Ocean water.

Jude and I glance at each other, knowing our conversation is coming to an end with so many things still left unspoken.

“That was amazing. But I’m never doing that again,” Delaney announces as she sits down beside Jude and I, who are the two only awake people in our section of the beach.

Shaking off the daze from being around him, I wrap my jacket around Delaney as her teeth chatter. “I take it the water was a tiny bit cold?”

“Excruciatingly. Worth it to see Cole fret over me from the shore, however.”

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