He caught me staring at it.
“Yes,” he replied simply, reading my mind, and he looked back out across the water. “Val did it. That’s how we met.”
I suddenly needed to be near him, so I stripped off my coverup and bounded over to the water.
“Hot damn, B,” he said as I approached. I tried not to fidget under his gaze, all the soft parts of me on full display.
“Oh yeah?” I said, doing my best to hide my self-consciousness. This stretch of beach was practically deserted, but I still felt a bit out of place showing off this much skin for him. “It’s a bit more revealing than our lifeguard swimsuits.” I laughed, remembering that summer job we’d had together in high school. “Same color, though.”
“You’re a dream come true,” he insisted. “I thought nothing could top seeing you in those little volleyball shorts senior year, but it seems I was very wrong.”
He looked me up and down appreciatively, and I blushed under his gaze. I still wasn’t fully accustomed to his attention,and hearing that he’d admired my body all the way back to high school made my stomach flip.
He grabbed my hand and we walked out into the surf, allowing the waves to gently slosh around our knees. He seemed so relaxed, so at peace.
“Did you miss it?” I looked out into the ocean.
“Kind of...” He trailed off, seeming lost in thought.
“Did you ever date Val?” I blurted without thinking.
He gave me his lopsided grin. “Val? No. It was never like that with us. In fact, I think she has a new girlfriend she’s bringing to brunch.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my feet, embarrassed.
“Hey.” He tilted my chin up to look at him, waiting to continue until I met his eyes. “When I moved here and started as a firefighter—it was hard leaving Vermont. Leaving you. I—had a lot of flings.” He looked slightly embarrassed to be revealing all this. “So much so that my firehouse nickname... is Casanova.” He grimaced. “But I’m done with all that. You’re what I want, and no one else could possibly turn my head. Especially not when I’m checking out your ass in this red bikini,” he finished, twirling me in front of him. I looked away shyly, but I grinned at his praise of my figure.
My thoughts were disrupted by Echo barking at the seagulls, chasing them up and down the shoreline playfully.
Cade rested his hands on my hips, toying with the bikini strings.
“Seriously though, B—I see the war going on in your head. I wish you could see what I see. You are drop-dead gorgeous. I can’t keep my eyes off you. Or my hands.”
His hands slipped down to cup my butt. I pushed his chest playfully, turning my head to make sure no one was around. His hands came back to my hips and he pulled me up to my tiptoes,catching my lips in a searing kiss. I lost myself to the kiss, the rushing sounds of the waves lapping against our legs.
“There’s not a piece of you I don’t want to run my hands and tongue all over,” he continued, his voice husky with need. “Now I’m wishing we hadn’t made plans to go out to eat.” His forehead met mine.
“Come on, Casanova,” I teased as I dragged him along the beach back towards his apartment. “Let’s not leave your friends waiting.”
27
CADE
“The famous Brooke,” Val greeted in her slightly-husky voice. “I’m relieved to see you aren’t a figment of the boy’s imagination. I would’ve hated to have had him committed.” Val tipped her head toward me playfully.
Brooke wrapped her arm around me possessively, sending a buzz throughout my body. The four of us sat outside at a small table with metal folding chairs, enjoying the California sunshine and the gentle breeze coming off the ocean.
We ordered the handmade vegan biscuits with the jam sampler, which included flavors like jalapeño apricot, carrot cake, and cherry-rhubarb. I noted Brooke’s attempt at keeping a straight face as she tried each of the more adventurous flavors.
Val’s deadpan sense of humor had Brooke laughing all through brunch. My insides felt warm at seeing how well my worlds were colliding.
A grin spread across my face as I watched Brooke animatedly tell a story from her nurse-interning days to Val and Yvonne.
I reached over to brush a strand of hair that had slipped free of Brooke’s ponytail. It was different than her volleyball ponytail—a more relaxed, casual sweeping up of her hair. I mentally tallied all her various hairstyles: her no-nonsense slicked-back and serious ponytail, this casual tied-up look, the long and straight style she wore most often, or, when she was feeling fancy, the wavy curls cascading down her back.
Every Brooke was my favorite Brooke.
“What else do you two have on your agenda?” Yvonne asked from beside Val, taking a bite of turkey bacon. She had short-cropped platinum blonde hair and a lip ring, her sparkly, vibrant make-up quite a contrast to Val’s dark tones.
