I stopped a foot away. “Hi.”
His fingers twitched at his side, but he didn’t reach out to touch me. “Hi yourself.”
“What are you doing here?”
A flash of uncertainty streaked across his eyes. “I came to see you. I hope that’s all right.”
I smiled. “More than all right. Just surprised is all.”
“Do you…do you like surprises?”
His stammering put me oddly at ease, and I found myself wanting to flirt with him just to see how he’d react. Would he duck his head or banter back? “If the surprise is you, then I adore them.”
The tips of his ears deepened in color, but he didn’t avert his gaze. His lips slowly drew up into a charming smile. “Good.”
The heat pooling in my middle became rivers that flooded my veins.
He tugged on the lobe of his ear. “Would you, uh, like to go for a walk?”
I looked down at my four-inch pumps. A few blisters would be an easy price to pay but… “I have a better idea.”
“Oh?”
“Or a better location, rather. You did say you don’t get to the beach often. Nothing to stop us now.”
His grin grew. “I like your thinking.”
He turned toward the front door and opened it for me like a true gentleman. My shoulder brushed his chest as I passed, igniting me once again.
Heavens, I’d internally combust at this rate.
But what a way to go.
I hid my smile in the crest of my shoulder as Malachi stepped beside me. There was so much left unsaid—or unvoicedrather—that I wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed.
His large hand pressed into the small of my back, directing me to a dually truck parked along the curb.
“Surprised I could find street-side parking so close, but here I am.” He opened the passenger side door for me.
Four-inch heels and a fitted pencil skirt would do me no favors in trying to step up onto the runner that was more than two feet off the ground.
“Allow me.” Malachi offered his hand, palm up like I had seen in so many period dramas. Duke so-and-so helping a lady alight from a carriage, except my landed gentry wore dark-wash denim instead of breeches and drove a Dodge instead of a landau.
I slid my hand into his, his work-worn calluses rough against my smooth palm. His fingers curled over mine, strength and gentleness a heady combination as he lent me his support in climbing into the truck.
Getting into a vehicle had never been such a memorable experience before, but at that moment, I converted into a Dodge fan. The bigger the truck, the better. I’d even endure Nicole’s rants about fuel consumption and climate change. The world wasn’t the only thing getting warmer by the second.
I fanned my face with my fingers as Malachi rounded the hood then opened the driver’s side door and hopped in with ease.
“Should I get directions from the GPS, or do you know the way?”
I told him which way to go, and he pulled into traffic, heading west. It didn’t take long before the truck stopped again, this time in a small parking lot adjacent to an expanse of white sand and dark blue ocean.
“Wait here,” Malachi said. He left the cab and went to the pay station. A minute later, he came back and put the receipt on the dash facing out then came over to my side and opened my door for me again.
The briny scent of the sea, crashing waves, and distant cry of a gull tickled the back of my senses, but Malachi, standing in front of me with a shy smile, took center stage of my focus. A strong pull, like a rip current in the Pacific, tugged at my core, and I gasped in surprise at the realization of the depth of feeling I had for this man.
It wasn’t falling. There hadn’t been a great hole that I’d stumbled into unaware, the jarring from the landing enough to take my breath away. Instead, it was as if Malachi had offered me his hand—as he was doing now—to help me down each step, leading me into something heart-deep and meaningful.
