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We’re interrupted by another server dropping off our appetizer and we both dig in the moment the plate hits the table.
“I had no idea I was so hungry,” he says taking his first bite.
“Nice try,” I say in between bites. “Give me one bad habit. Okay, not a bad habit just a strange habit or tidbit that would surprise me about you. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, just something little that only you would notice about yourself.”
He continues chewing.
Wiping my hands off on my cloth napkin and sitting up straight in my chair I huff. “Fine, I’ll go first. Let’s see, there are so many to choose from . . . I know! I am a sticky note whore, addict, abuser . . . whatever word you choose would be acceptable. I have them in every size, shape and color. I use them for everything. To leave myself notes, as bookmarks, as ways to make notes in my text books without writing on the pages—so I can get more for them when I sell the books after my classes are over. I use them so much that when I leave poor Cami notes now she doesn’t even notice them. She actually rarely sees the notes I leave her because they all just blend in to each other.”
He looks at me like I am a crazy person and simply says, “Sorry to let you down, but I really don’t have any bad habits like that.”
“Oh, come on Georgia! Of course you do, everybody does!”
“Sorry to disappoint you, little missy but nothing comes to mind. If something does though I will be sure to let you know. So, have you ever sought treatment for your sticky note problem?”
“You suck, you know that, right?” I say as I stick my tongue out at him.
The rest of the meal is full of laughter, teasing, easy conversation and some of the best Italian food I’ve ever had.
Barbie returns and offers us the dessert menu.
Jonathan takes a quick look at the menu and turns to Barbie and says, “We’ll take one Love Cup and two spoons please.”
I just roll my eyes and shake my head.
“What?”
“It’s just a little cheesy, isn’t it? The Loooooove Cup? I mean come on, Jonathan.” I laugh.
“I can’t help it if chocolate mousse, strawberries and whipped cream sounds good to me. I didn’t name the damn thing, I just ordered it. If you’re too cool to share it with me, no biggie. I’ll just eat it myself. Not a problem at all. I’ll just let your friend, what was her name again? Oh yeah, Barbie, that’s it. I’ll just let her know we only need one spoon when she comes back then.”
“Well, I don’t want to be rude and make you eat all by your lonesome. I’ll take my spoon and be a team player,” I huff out a heavy sigh like it is truly a great sacrifice.
One hour and one Love Cup later we’re walking hand in hand on the beach. Jonathan has thought of everything and has a blanket and an extra hoodie for me over his arm as we leisurely walk.
“You know, a gentleman would have let me have the last bite of dessert, don’t ya think?” I say as I giggle at the memory of our spoons fighting over the last bit of chocolate mousse. Then the stare down that took place while we tried to wait each other out to see who would take the last piece of the chocolate almond brittle shell that once held said mousse.
He stops walking and releases his hand and brings it to his heart with a bewildered look of pure confusion on his magnificent face.
“I must say, I was under the impression I was spending my week with an independent woman who didn’t need a man to take care of her. A woman who has made it perfectly clear she could take care of herself. The opportunity was yours and you chose not to take it. I must say I am confused by your accusation to say the least,” he says as he brings his hand to my face to push a rogue hair behind my ear.
His touch is all it takes, and instead of giving him the smart ass comment I know he’s waiting for, I place my hand over his as it cups my jaw and lean my face into it. The warmth and electricity I feel from this little bit of contact is something I’m not sure I will ever get used to.
“Gracie, I have to kiss you, now.”
Without waiting for my reply he drops the blanket and hoodie to the sand. He brings his other hand to my face and his lips are on mine. I can’t help the moan that comes from deep inside my chest. His kiss is soft, warm and gentle. He’s kissing me like he doesn’t want to rush a thing and wants to make this last. He makes me feel like I am all his and that this kiss feels as special to him as it does me.
This moment is pure perfection.
Moonlight, sand, the sound of the ocean and the most alluring man I have ever met. I pray to the heavens above not to let this moment, night, week or any of it ever end.
His hands have moved to my hair and he’s holding my head as though I’m fragile. Things become heated as our tongues start dancing with one another. The pace has picked up to the point that we both feel almost frantic, but he pulls his lips from mine. Still holding my head in his hands, he brings his forehead to rest on mine and whispers, “Gracie.”
At the sound of this name on his lips everything inside me soars to another level and a shiver runs through me that I can’t control. I can feel my entire body start to shake with . . . with . . . I don’t know what. Is it adrenaline, excitement, anticipation, happiness, lust?
“You’re cold, here let me get my hoodie for you,” he says as he bends down, collects the hoodie he brought for me and shakes the sand off of it.
As he dresses me in his sweatshirt, that smells deliciously like him, I tell him with my head lowered in embarrassment, “I’m not really cold, I just . . .”
