Page 19 of Knot Your Sunshine
The condensation on my iced tea glass drips onto my stomach, making me shiver, and I lift the drink to savor a refreshing blend of pineapple and mint. Down the beach, distant laughter mingles with the ocean breeze as other guests enjoy their own slice of heaven.
For the first time in months, my mind is completely, blissfully blank.
Elena and her pack have colonized a section of beach like they're establishing a small kingdom. Dorian and James crouch over an elaborate sandcastle that's beginning to look suspiciously like an actual architectural model, complete with flying buttresses. James gestures wildly, apparently arguing for the addition of a moat, while Dorian shakes his head.
Cole has Elena tucked against his side on a beach blanket, his lips moving against her ear in a stream of what must beabsolutely filthy promises based on her increasingly red face and delighted giggles.
"Well hello there, gorgeous."
The deep voice makes every female head in a ten-foot radius swivel like synchronized swimmers. An alpha with silver fox hair and the kind of tan you can't get from a bottle stands near Rose's chair, holding two drinks that glow radioactive blue and sport enough fruit garnish to count as a salad.
"I thought you might enjoy something with a bit more... adventure than iced tea," he says, offering Rose one of the drinks with a smile that probably made many an omega swoon in his younger days. Hell, probably still even now.
Rose sits up straighter, her hand going to her hair in a gesture I recognize from Elena. "Well, aren't you presumptuous." She takes the drink anyway, batting her lashes. "I'm Rose."
"Julian." He settles into the empty chair beside her. "I saw you from the bar and thought, now there's a woman who seems to appreciate the finer things. Am I wrong?"
Elena and I lock eyes across the sand, both pressing our lips together to keep from laughing.
"Your mom's still got it," I whisper, leaning toward Elena's blanket.
"At sixty-six, she's pulling better than I did at twenty-two," Elena whispers back. We watch Rose throw her head back, laughing at something Julian says, her hand briefly touching his forearm.
I sink deeper into my chair, letting my eyes drift closed. The sun paints red patterns on the inside of my eyelids. Time becomes syrupy, flowing slow and sweet.
When I crack my eyes open and check my watch, fourty minutes have vanished like smoke. Rose now has a deck of cards spread between her and Julian on a small table that definitely wasn't there before. She's explaining something that involves alot of hand gestures while Julian watches her with the focus of a man who's found something unexpected and delightful.
Dorian and James have abandoned architecture for worship, stretched out on towels with Elena between them. Cole adjusts the umbrella he's planted, twice, three times, until the shadow falls exactly where Elena won't burn. Only then does he settle, the satisfied look on his face like he's just slain a dragon.
I drain the last of my tea, ice cubes clinking, and push myself up. "Going for a walk."
"Mm-hmm," Elena mumbles, not even opening her eyes. James's hand is playing with her hair while Dorian traces patterns on her arm, and she looks about three seconds from purring.
The sand burns hot between my toes until I reach the waterline, where it turns firm and cool. My footprints fill with water behind me, and I take I deep breath.
No notifications pinging. No appointments. Just me and the endless ocean.
And—Oh my God.
A figure in the distance rides a wave, the water peeling beneath his board in a perfect curl. The wave dies as it reaches shallow water not twenty feet away from me, and he steps off the board in one fluid motion. He shakes his head, and droplets fly in a perfect arc as dark hair settles against his shoulders.
My heart forgets its job entirely.
He tucks the board under one arm and walks straight out of the surf.
Straight toward me.
The closer he gets, the more details assault my senses. At least six-foot-three of golden skin stretched over lean muscle that flexes with each step. Water traces the definition of his chest, following paths I wouldn't mind tracing with my fingers. Boardshorts hang low on his hips, and the way he moves, relaxed, utterly at home in his body, makes my mouth go desert dry.
"Keanu," he says when he reaches me, a lazy smile crinkling the corners of sea-green eyes.
Words. I had those once. "Mia."
"Mia." He rolls my name around like he's tasting wine. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." His gaze travels over me, slow, deliberate, appreciative. "You enjoying the view?"
My eyes have their own agenda, sliding from his eyes to his pecs, abs, the very obvious bulge in his shorts… then snapping back up like they're on a bungee cord. "Yes, it's... beautiful. The ocean. The ocean is beautiful."
His chuckle rumbles between us. "The ocean always is."
