“Uh, yeah, cum play is not on my list of activities for this afternoon,” he says, and releases his grip on me. “Give me a second, though.”
I lower my legs from around his waist and move around him, keeping my back to him and taking a look at our surroundings. Luckily, no one has drifted over this way. I call back to him, “But maybe one afternoon?”
“Fuck, woman. You’re going to be the death of me.”
It makes me smile. “C’mon. Maybe you can convince Liam to go for a swim down here and then tell him he got to play in your cum.”
A second later, an arm is wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his side. “I love the way you think.”
Chapter 16
Wyatt
“Ifitweren’tforthe tan I witnessed today, I’d wonder if you were really from Santa Rosé. How do you know about this place?” Bryn questions as we get out of my truck.
I’m not sure whether to be offended or proud. “The tan is a work in progress. And Brody, if you can believe it.”
“One of his favorite surfing spots is right around that outcropping,” she says as we meet at the back of my pickup, pointing to the left of where we’re parked. “But you need to park here and paddle out to it or go down some crazy rocks to a small beach. It’s not super popular ‘cause it can be rough and it’s technical.”
Then she points to the right where there’s large boulders stacked up until they lead to an actual cliff above. Waves crash into them, the sound of the powerful ocean a mesmerizing thrum.
“Over those rocks is the boardwalk and the beach where they set the fireworks off. You can’t see it, but when they do the fireworks, you’ll definitely see them—” She pauses, a hand touching the top of the tailgate on old Betty. “Is this our date? The beach and fireworks?”
There’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, her eyes widening just enough to let me know excitement bubbles beneath the surface. Anticipation.
When I thought about tonight and our second official date, I wanted to make it special, but I didn’t want us to be surrounded bytons of people in a crowded restaurant or a touristy beach. I asked for suggestions on beaches a few shifts ago at the station, and it was Brody who told me—thankfully before I soaked the guy—how to get here.
A small parking lot overlooks a little cove that’s protected by cliffs and rocks on either side. Waves roll onto a sandy beach, the water full of quiet power, but not like some of the other areas I’ve seen in Santa Rosé. Not like the spot on the other side of the outcropping where Brody surfs. There are a couple of other vehicles in the lot that only holds five, and glancing at the beach, there’s only one group of three out there. Plenty of room for us to carve out our own little space.
“You’re missing two things,” I tell her, unlatching the tailgate and dropping it open as she steps aside with curious eyes. I grab the basket I packed after dropping her off earlier to get ready, and the blankets beneath. “Dinner and dancing.”
Her eyes bounce between me, the basket, and the beach, and finally her face completely lights up, shining brighter than the setting sun. “A departure from the last date full of action.”
I wink at her, lifting the tailgate and then offering her my arm.
“Oh, no,” she shakes her head, pointing at my boots as she lifts her own leg. “Take those off, Montana. You’re in California now, and you are not walking across that sand with those boots. It’s like fucking with socks on.”
“What’s wrong with fucking with socks on?” I deadpan. “I get cold feet.”
Her eyes bulge, and she opens her mouth, probably to tell me this date is over, but I laugh and set the basket on the paved lot, and she must realize I’m joking. Sitting on the bumper of the truck, I pull my boots off one by one, along with my socks, just so there’s no question about those. It takes her less than thirty seconds toget her black ankle cowboy boots off, but it takes me significantly longer. The one downfall to the boots.
When I’m done, and our boots are in the back, I grab our dinner and then hold out my hand, which she takes. I spin her, which makes her squeal in surprise, then has her bursting into a joyous laugh. It’s a bonus to the reason I really did it.
I had to see the full effect of this dress on her while the sun was still up.
I’ve never seen anyone as stunning as this woman.
The black skirt flutters around her legs, the bottom of it embroidered with a multitude of different colors in a pattern that reminds me of dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. Blues and reds and whites, and it’s while she spins a second time that I realize she’s dressed for the Fourth even though the rest of the material is black.
The same pattern shows up along the deep V in the neckline, drawing my eye to her breasts and the skin she shows off between them. With the spaghetti straps, her collarbones are on full display, driving me crazy. The dress cinches at her waist, showing off every curve, but remaining flowy around her hips.
It was made for her.
Then again, I’ve thought that about every outfit I’ve seen her in.
I’m starting to think I might have a bias.
When we pick a spot on the left side of the beach, furthest away from the other group and in the best location for the fireworks later, she helps me get the blanket spread out. Before she can sit, I catch her hand, shaking my head.
