“We’ve only been asleep for four hours. The alarm’s set for nine o’clock. Let’s do this again, then,” he said, turning to bring our bodies flush. His strong arm wrapped around me, tucking me firmly against his chest. A familiar move Beau did all the time, and one that gave me cramps from the different angles my body was forced to lie.
“I don’t want to miss a single minute of today.” I gently placed a hand on his chest, pushing backward to make space between us. “You can caffeine your way through the next twenty-four hours.”
Beau remained soundless, but also didn’t give a long intake of breath, reminiscent of sleep. I patiently waited to see if he’d drift off or choose to wake. It took a full minute for him to make up his mind.
“Vacations are meant to be relaxing,” Beau muttered against my hair.
By vacation, he meant the day before the fourth to the day after, but as busy as we’d been, spending all day and all night together was harder to do.
“It’s only the second time we’ve spent the entire day together. And I’m becoming an older man who needs to properly celebrate an anniversary.”
Beau chuckled, his body vibrating against mine. “Shouldn’t an anniversary start a year after we’ve been together full time?”
“What? No. Never.” I jerked my head back only to see Beau grinning broadly. His tender gaze met mine. “Our anniversary was set years ago. I like the idea of sharing my birthday with my love.”
“I like messing with you.” To prove the point, he lifted a hand to ruffle my hair. Since it was bedhead anyway, I didn’t give him grief. “It’s better to be awake. I like our lives too much to miss a second of the day.”
“Me too. And there’s been some updates and schedule changes for today.”
Beau immediately pushed back against the headboard to sit up. I followed, positioning myself to face him better.
“Like how?” he said. The furrowed brow now spoke of possible irritation. It wasn’t a completely mad look, but it was loading. My hand rested on Beau’s cheek, keeping his attention on me.
“Carter’s coming in today,” I started, this being the simplest of the two changes.
“Why?”
“He wanted to meet us. I told him about the anniversary, and he said he’d be scarce. He’s going to take the downstairs bedroom and leave early tomorrow morning.”
Beau’s brows lifted about a millimeter and a half. We’d see how fast they dropped after the next schedule change.
“Then after lunch we’ve been invited to a beach volleyball tournament.”
His brows slammed down like they did when Scott challenged Beau to any sort of competition that ended in a win.
“Babe, no. This can’t be an I-win moment. It’ll be more relaxed. Just fun. They’re law students, not super athletes driven to win.”
He was silent for several long seconds. “I don’t believe that. You’re more competitive than me, making my wins sweeter. I’m calling it. We’re on separate teams.”
“No,” I said and shook my head to drive home my answer. “Only casual play. I have a short time to gain lots of ground with these people. They can push me to headhunters or firms that I should have been courting for years.”
“We’re still pier fishing?” Beau questioned.
“Yes and hitting up the street food vendors,” I added.
“For sure,” he said, giving me a subtle hint of encouragement with the way his lip quirked in the corner.
“And we’re still wearing the clothes I picked out?” I said, trying to get his agreement on this well-battled idea I’d had about a month ago.
“Matching shirts? I feel like that’s not my personality,” he hedgedagain.
“I believe it is your personality, and you’re just not understanding it yet,” I countered, fully aware that since conception of the idea that he’d scoff at wearing matching anything. “I got an anniversary present for you too,” I said, extending my arm to reach the oversized ring box hidden in the folds of the bedspread. I was excited for the next few minutes. I’d planned this for more years than I could say. Now a favorite memory of the way I passed my time, waiting for my guy to return. “Here.”
Beau’s brow lifted critically. “What’s in there?”
“Take it and see,” I encouraged.
“It looks like a ring,” he said, still skeptical. Of what? Who knew.
