Tess didn’t strike him as uncomfortable with her body. So why wasn’t she baring it on the island’s private stretch of adults-only sand?
And why didn’t she invite him along for the experience? A person could dream, after all.
Silence stretched between them for a few moments before she finally spoke again.
“Can you imagine the amount of sunscreen I’d have to buy?” She huffed out a small laugh. “Besides, I’m getting enough sand in unfortunate areas. I don’t need to invite a full-body scouring.”
Those answers sounded like dodges to him. Red herrings. And if anyone could recognize herrings—of whatever color—a Swede could.
“Those don’t seem like insurmountable obstacles to me,” he said.
Her chest rose and fell on a pained-sounding breath before her lips quirked again. “You’re right. I guess I was trying not to bring up how different we are.”
“I don’t understand.” And he was no longer certain he wanted to, given what she’d just said.
Her mouth pursed. “You’re a twenty-something Swede working at a resort where everyone turns a blind eye to…” She paused. “What did you call it?Al fresco shenanigans?”
From her lips, the phrase sounded overly glib. Blithe and careless.
“I’m a forty-year-old high school administrator in Virginia, Lucas. I can’t get naked in public.” She slanted him a wryly amused look, one that had grown familiar. “God bless Europeans. Do you have a national holiday celebrating full-frontal nudity in Sweden? One that involves a ceremonial dropping of trench coats in public squares before you all retire for pastries and naps?”
That particular tone, redolent with sarcasm, was also familiar. “Only on leap years. The rest of the time, we make do with just the naked parade.”
“Disappointing.” She shook her head. “I’d expected more, somehow.”
The whole European angle was only part of what she’d said, and not the most important part either. “The nude beach is on the adults-only end of the island, so you wouldn’t be flashing America’s youth yet again.”
He put special emphasis on the last bit, just to elicit the dirty look he promptly received.
“Can the resort guarantee that no one I know and no one I’ll ever need to interact with as a school administrator will be on that beach with me?” She tipped her head as she stared at him, her gaze challenging. “More importantly, do they confiscate all guests’ cell phones and cameras before allowing them onto that part of the island? Because anything any of us do in public can end up on the internet at any time, Lucas, and I can’t afford to take chances. Not at this stage of my career, when I’m gunning to become principal in a year. Everything I want is so close, and I won’t risk it for an afternoon in the sun.”
The principal job was everything she wanted? Or was it everything she was letting herself want? Everything she’d convinced herself was practical and possible?
“I’m just lucky you were there to help me when I lost my bikini top.” Unexpectedly, she reached out to cover his hand with her own. Squeezed it in silent gratitude. “I work with kids, and I have to deal with American standards of so-calleddecencyandgood judgment. That incident could have been disastrous, as could a trip to the nude beach. So no, I won’t be getting naked on the sand. Even if I want to.”
“That makes sense,” he conceded. “I get it, Tess. You obviously want that principal position a lot.”
“More than anything.” Her eyes searched his in a seeming plea for understanding. “Not because I want power for its own sake, but because I think I can help the kids at my school. I can make Marysburg High a safer, happier, more useful place for them in every way.” She sighed. “The other main candidate from within our school system cares more about the bottom line than education. He would be a terrible principal, and I won’t let him have the job. Not if I can possibly help it.”
To his regret, he had to concede her other point too: They were very different. In their lives, their work, their ambitions, the expectations placed upon them, the people dependent on their decisions.
He still wanted her. His hunger to understand the twists and intricacies of her mind hadn’t eased at all over the course of the lunch. If anything, he felt more starved than ever.
If he had another half-hour to spare, he’d ask about her plans for her students. Soon, though, his free time between lessons would come to an end, and he didn’t want to start a subject they didn’t have time to finish. Besides, he had one last surprise for her. One he suspected she’d enjoy.
Turning over his hand, he laced his fingers through hers and slid his thumb over her knuckles in a slow, repeated sweep. With his other hand, he reached into a bag beneath the table and produced the final container.
She peered at the clear plastic top, and after a moment, a small, tentative smile tipped her lips.
“It’s not lemon chess meringue pie,” he told her. “But all but one of them are for you, and I managed to get a candle for the birthday girl. Well, birthday-plus-one-day girl.”
The strawberry lemonade cupcakes had reminded him of Tess. Tart and sweet. Joyously, unmistakably large. Pretty.
“They look delicious.” Her fingers squeezed his as she contemplated the half-dozen cupcakes within the container. “Out of curiosity, did you remember to bring something to light the candle?”
His head dropped to his chest. “Shit.”
“If you’d remembered, I was going to let you give me forty birthday spanks.”
