Page 44 of Stick Break
“This looks amazing.”
She hands me a fork, then serves herself. “Not bad for a city girl, huh?”
“Nope. Not bad at all.”
She settles into her chair, plate balanced on her lap. I toss a piece of bacon into my mouth and nearly groan—it’s crisped to perfection.
She glances at me, sun catching in her lashes. “I have to say… I think I could get used to beach life.” She glances out over the ocean again, a wistful look on her face. “Cooking over an open fire. You. Me. This.”
My heart trips over that last part—this.
It’s crazy how much I like this too. But is it because of how much I like her, or because in this bubble, we don’t have to think about what our futures might hold?
“This bacon is delicious,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I got it at the market. I’ll get more. Do you…want to come to the market with me today.”
She frowns, sets the bacon on her plate, and my stomach tightens. Dammit, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. “I know you need clothes,” I say quickly, my mind going back to the time in Vegas when I had to bring clothes to my buddy Roman, after he saved a runaway bride. “I could just get them for you. Size eight? I’ve bought clothes for?—”
Her head lifts, a curious look in her eyes. “You buy clothes for women a lot?”
I give her an indignant look. “Who says they’re for women?”
That pulls a big belly laugh from her. “Fair enough.” She gives me a once over. “I must say, though. I can’t imagine anything flattering Big Bear’s physique.”
“Go ahead,” I tease. “Tell me you like what you see.”
She puts a big slice of bacon in her mouth. She points to it, and mumbles something about not being able to talk with her mouth full, but goddammit, it reminds me of last night and the way she used her mouth on me. I shift in my chair, my oversized sweats suddenly a little too small.
I finish the food on my plate. “Since you cooked, I’ll do dishes.”
“Nope. I have to earn my keep,” she responds.
“Babe, you earned all the keep…”
She grins. “Maybe I’m just saying that so it will get you moving.” I arch a brow and she continues. “Store. Condoms.”
“I do love a woman who knows what she wants.” Without thinking, I bend forward and give her a kiss. When I inch back, and note the surprised look on her face, realize how intimate that seemed. “Just giving you something to think about while I’m gone.”
I’m about to walk away, when she stops me. “Don’t you think you should put on a shirt, and maybe change out of those sweats.”
“Right. Shit. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Actually, I do and it’s damn hard to think when there’s not much blood left in the brain. I hurry inside and go straight to my room. I tug on a T-shirt, boxers and a pair of shorts. When I come from the bedroom, she’s at the sink, humming softly, and it stops me. I watch, mesmerized by the sway of her hips, and as she moves, oblivious to me watching, my heart pinches tight.
She’s been through so much in the last couple of months. The competition which had to be brutal, and then for her ex to throw her under the bus. It’s no wonder she ran away from reality for a while. But what is next for her? Where does she go at the end of the week? I really don’t have the answer to those questions, but one thing I do know is that she’s been helping me, and I want to help her too. Other than giving her a place to stay, I’m not sure what else I can do.
“Be right back,” I say, and she gives me a smile as I head out the door. I walk along the beach path, my hat pulled low as people go by on bicycles and cars. It’s a lazy town, a vacation place and most people keep to themselves, which is nice.
A mile down the road, I reach the shops. It’s mostly touristy stuff, souvenirs, restaurants, but there is a grocery store where one can find everything they’d need. I hurry inside and go straight to the pharmacy at back. I grab two boxes of condoms when I hear someone clear their throat. My own throat tightens, when I turn and see Mrs. Callahan standing there. She owns the cottage beside my buddy’s and I met her a couple days ago. A nice, elderly lady, who suddenly, doesn’t seem like she’s minding her own business.
“Good morning,” I say, as her gaze drops to the boxes in my hand. Shit. Why do I feel like I’m doing something wrong here.
“Ripley,” she says. “You’re out and about early.”
“Early bird gets the worm.” Now why the fuck would I say that. As I mentally curse myself, she purses her lips and it reminds me of my strict grade schoolteacher. That woman scared the Bejesus out of me.
“I can see that.”
“I should get going,” I say, and hold the boxes up in salute. What the fuck is wrong with me today? I’m a grown ass man and can buy condoms if I want. It’s also the responsible thing to do.
