Page 48 of Smooth Sailing
His teasing had her fighting the urge to climb onto his lap. As if reading her impulse, he said firmly, “But food first.” He gestured with his chin toward the window.
She followed his gaze. Her breath caught for an entirely different reason. Through the windshield was a beach she hadn’t visited since last summer. Back when she’d escaped to her brother’s place after Richard’s betrayal. The familiar shimmering expanse of the bay stretched before her, catching the early evening sun. The pull of it tugged in her chest alongside the lingering heat of desire.
She rolled down her window, and the unique blend of sun-warmed sand, damp earth, and something distinctly aquatic flowed into the car. It wasn’t the briny smell of the ocean but a hint of fish and algae mixed with the crisp, clean aroma of fall in Northern Michigan.
“Want to eat by the water or get it to go?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on the door handle.
She wanted him naked and doing wonderful things to her body, but this stretch of bay was her sanctuary. Last summer, these waves had been her only witness as she’d pieced herself back together after Richard shattered her world.
As if Max sensed her dilemma, he said. “Let’s stay. We have to eat, so why not enjoy the view?”
“We could eat and drive,” she said, half-joking.”
He pointed toward the food truck. “They serve street tacos. Not the best meal for a driving dinner.”
“True,” she agreed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“For you? Of course not.”
This manwas too good. He made it clear at the house that he was ready to get her back to the condo and under him but was willing to wait to give her this moment. If she weren’t careful, she’d fall for him.
That sent a jolt of fear through her. She was already teetering on the edge of feeling she’d promised herself she wouldn’t feel. And seeing that familiar look of overwhelm in his eyes made her chest tighten.
She wouldn’t think of that now. They’d agreed these next few weeks were about pleasure, and that was what she’d focus on—work during the day and his body at night.
Stepping from the truck, the cool autumn air nipped at her skin. She grabbed a blanket from the cab, shook it, and started for the beach. The parking lot’s asphalt was still warm from the day’s heat, a stark contrast to the cooling air around her. Her steps quickened, eager to get near the water. She slipped off her shoes at the transition from pavement to sand, relishing the cool grains between her toes. The sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Small waves lapped gently at the shore, creating a soothing rhythm.
She found the perfect spot between sand and water and sat. The beach was quiet, with only a few others dotting the shoreline. Listening to the gentle waves, she let the peaceful atmosphere wash over her.
A light breeze ruffled her hair, carrying the mingled scents of the water and distant pine trees. She opened her eyes, scanning the parking lot for Max. As if on cue, she spotted him walking toward her, carefully balancing their dinner and a couple of drinks. The sight of him, silhouetted against the colorful sky, made her heart stumble, then raced to catch up.
Reaching their blanket, he handed over her food and settled beside her. They unwrapped their tacos, and the spicy aroma filled the air. She took a bite, a satisfied moan escaping her.
“Good?” he asked, his voice low.
“Mmm, so good,” she replied, licking a bit of sauce from her lower lip. His eyes darkened and followed the movement, and his breath caught slightly.
Not that she was any better. Between bites, she watched his hands—strong, capable fingers that hours ago had been building their client’s garden, now delicately maneuvering a messy taco. A dollop of salsa rested on the corner of his mouth. She gently combed through his short beard to wipe it away.
Their gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. His lips parted slightly, but before he could speak, a seagull swooped down, snatching a chip from his plate. The spell broken, they burst into laughter.
“Damn sky rats,” she said, wiping her mouth and covering her food from the birds. “I’m really glad we’re doing this. Not just the job, but . . . this.” She gestured between them.
The corner of his mouth quirked in a gentle half-smile, and he leaned closer to her as if drawn by an invisible thread. “Me too. I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s company quite like yours.”
“Same.” She squeezed his hand, letting her touch linger. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
Max looked to the sky, his thumb absently stroking the back of her hand. “I used to be terrified of the water. If I couldn’t see my feet, I’d scream. Cry.”
“Really? When did you grow out of it?”
“Who says I did?” he joked.
She laughed, bumping his shoulder with hers. “My bad. Sorry for assuming.”
“When I was six. Thanks to my dad,” he said with a fond smile. “He spent the entire summer teaching me to swim. By the end of it, I couldn’t get enough of the water.”
She leaned against him, picturing a young Max conquering his fears. Her heart also ached for what he’d lost. “Your dad sounds like he was amazing. I bet he’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”
