I could see she wanted to object, but she let me keep it. I had a feeling she didn’t allow many people to help her in any way. She was practically the poster child for an independent woman.
Which made me want to spoil her all the more.
The trip into Crescent Cove was an easy one. The sun was shining, and we rolled the windows down.
“My Jeep is made for these days.”
I laughed. “Well, then next trip out is in yours. Tommy texted me.”
She glanced over at me, her hair blowing around her. “Yeah?”
“I told him to drop your Jeep at the taproom so you’re finally free of me tonight.”
“Thank God.”
“Thanks,” I said wryly.
She caught her flying hair and twisted it around one shoulder. “I don’t like relying on people.”
“I’m shocked.”
She wrinkled her nose at me, then she reached over and turned up the music. It was a summery pop song that suited the sunny day. The tension that was usually between us was absent and I relaxed and stretched my arm along the benchseat to toy with her hair as we flew down the winding roads of Turnbull into the more picturesque ones of Crescent Cove.
Since we were coming from the other side of Crescent Cove, I stopped at Brewed Awakening and we got sandwiches, and a special fruity lemonade slush in honor of the first sixty-degree day in a damn long time before crawling along Main Street to the lake.
There was a lot of foot traffic at the park, and I skipped that to go out near the beachy parts of Crescent Lake. I parked out past the food trucks—which I’d remember for another day—to a stretch of beach that wasn’t congested with people. There was a walkway that meandered along with a great view of the water.
“So, we just walk?” she asked as she jumped down before I could come around and open the door for her.
“Have you ever been on a date?” I asked, grabbing the bag with our food, as well as my cup.
She met me at the front of the truck. “Of course I have.”
“What’s your idea of a date?”
“I don’t know. Pool and a beer? A movie?”
“That sounds more like a question than knowing, Lenny.” I bumped her hip with mine, then I slung my arm around hershoulders. “We talk, get to know each other, make out on the beach.”
“Where’s the blanket for that?”
“Dammit.” I grinned down at her. “Got me there.”
“Well, I’m not getting sand in my underwear, so you’re shit out of luck there.”
I dropped my arm from her shoulders and took her hand, lacing our fingers. “I’ll settle for a walk with a pretty girl I want to get to know.”
“There’s not much to know.”
“Where was your favorite job?”
“Where?” She glanced at me.
“I know bartending is pretty much the job, but there had to be somewhere that made you want to stick around for a while.”
“Miami,” she said quietly. “The water and the nightlife there is exactly what I’d pictured when I started training to do flair. I could bartend anywhere, but not everywhere was suited for showing off. Some just wanted a hot chick on the stick, so to speak.”
“I mean, I enjoy a hot woman on my stick—especially you.”