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Brody must see the inner conflict and reaches out, cupping my cheek in his hand. His touch sets me on fire and for a moment I forget to breathe.
“It’s just dinner, Angel. Don’t work yourself up over it. One meal, that’s all I’m asking.”
Whether it’s the electricity flowing through my body at his touch, or my head rationalizing that he’s right, I find myself agreeing and wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.
With twenty minutes until he is due to pick me up, I find myself scrolling through online images of Brody.
His cocksure grin and unruly hair has my heart rate quickening and my lips quirking. Such a charmer. Suited and booted he looks every inch the movie star.
Scrolling down I see him with a beautiful blonde on his arm, her flawless makeup and designer dress have me cringing. Is that his usual type?
But I don’t need to worry, she doesn’t appear again. It seems he doesn’t have a type. There’s photos of him with a brunette, a redhead, and a woman with stunning lilac hair. I swallow down the lump in my throat and close the browser.
Shaking my head, I take a calming breath in. This is why I should have avoided looking him up. I don’t want to be another in a long list of interchangeable women. I’ll have dinner with him, and that’s it. He’ll realize I’m not the usual bimbo who hangs off of his every word and jumps into his bed, and he’ll move on.
Checking my makeup in the mirror, I take another deep breath and check my pulse. Mom always says if you’re overthinking something or anxious, taking your pulse is a good distraction to bring you back to the present.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…
The doorbell chimes, breaking my moment of calm and I straighten up and pull up my big girl panties. I can’t solely judge him based on the media. You never know how much they dream up for clickbait. The guy I’ve seen in Silverbell is different, he’s the one who is so good with Brooks and fun to be around. He’s also the sweet guy who is protective of his sister and tells terrible jokes.
Cautious but not captive. That’s what Summer said I needed to be. Cautious of things, but not captive in my own thoughts.
But as I open the door, all thoughts leave my mind. Brody Spencer is breathtaking. His usually unruly hair is slicked back, he’s wearing a light blue shirt and beige slacks along with his signature aviators. My first thought is I’m glad I’m no longer taking my pulse, it’s sure to be racing at the sight before me.
“Hey, Angel. You look beautiful,” he says, stepping forward to drop a kiss on my cheek, his rough stubble tickling me as he pulls away.
The moment his lips make contact with my skin, a kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight in my belly. I’ve never met someone who can make me react so strongly with the slightest touches.
“Hey yourself.” Grabbing my purse from the table, I step out and lock up before asking, “So where are we going?”
Slipping his hand into mine and linking our fingers, he starts walking toward the beach.
“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, then grab a bite to eat in one of the beachfront cafés, if that’s alright?”
“Sounds perfect,” I say, and let out a little sigh of relief. Part of me was worried he’d want to go big and fancy, but that’s not really my thing.
His soft chuckle has me looking up at him in question. “I take it that’s not what you were expecting?”
My cheeks flush and I admit, “I may have been worried you’d try and go over the top to wow me.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t need any help in wow-ing women.” He shoots me that panty-dropping grin and I roll my eyes at him but laugh.
“And there he is. The big celebrity.”
“In all seriousness, I’m not a showy kinda guy. I prefer simple. If you want me to take you to an expensive restaurant, just say the word. But I figured you were like me in that sense, more real.” He squeezes my hand as he says that, as if recognizing we are not so different and I smile.
“I am. This is perfect.”
The tide is out and we walk to the water’s edge to take in the view. The silence is comfortable as we walk hand in hand.
“You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a pirate,” he says, breaking the silence unexpectedly and making me snort. His eyes are lit with amusement and I raise my eyebrows, skeptical.
“A pirate?” Images of him starring in Pirates of the Caribbean cross my mind.
“Yeah. I loved the water and thought living on a boat and sailing around the world would be awesome. And you know, buried treasure and no taxes. Living the dream.”
“That’s quite the dream, Hotshot. And now look at you, traveling the world.”
