Page 41 of Sundown Somewhere

“You are the man in my life.”

“Good.”

A moment later our food shows up, breaking the tension and taking our conversation back to the diner. Only this time, Hux focuses on the menu revamp project, peppering me with questions about what I want, and if I could do anything other than breakfast, what would it be. It’s fun to dream, laughing and joking with the person who knows me best, creating wild ideas about dishes we could serve.

The rest of the evening flies by, the string band in the background floating in and out of earshot, the din of conversation from the other diners so faint that it feels like we’re the only two out here. By the time we finish, it feels like this morning and my hangover were a whole different life ago.

“Ice cream would have been a good idea,” Hux says as we walk hand in hand along the beach after dinner.

A bright full moon illuminates the waves crashing along the shore, giving us plenty of light to see where we’re going, our footprints disappearing behind us quickly in the soft sand.

“You have room for ice cream?” I giggle. “I’m stuffed.”

“There’s always room for ice cream.”

Now that’s my Hux—always hungry.

Looking up ahead, I notice the bright glow of a bonfire, so I slow down, not wanting to interfere with someone’s party. Although party might not be the right word, since the music coming from their speaker isn’t the standard mix.

“Is that…” I lean in, straining to get a better listen.

“I don’t remember Van Morrison being quite so big band sounding,” Hux comments.

“That’s because it’s not. That’s Michael Bublé’s version of ‘Moondance.’”

I start to sway with the music, getting extra jazzy as the horns sound, knowing that I couldn’t look any less sexy if I tried. Hux’s eyes go dark though, and he steps into me, taking my hand and tugging me close to him.

“Dance with me.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Hux?”

“Can’t a guy want to dance with the woman in his life?”

I giggle, unable to hide how much I like being called that. “Two nights in a row? I don’t get it. You don’t like dancing.”

“No, Dolly,” he says, pulling me in closer and tightening his grip on me. “I just don’t like dancing with girls who aren’t you.”

Oh, holy…fuuuuuuck…

Hux flexes his hand against my back, then starts to move us in time with the beat. I let him lead, both out of the desire to know what it feels like and because I don’t think I could if I tried. I’m a puddle inside, wanting nothing more than to remain just like this.

So we do.

Song after song, Hux holds me close, moving along to whatever floats our way. He doesn’t let go, not once, only adjusts his stance based on how he wants to hold me. And I hold him back, my arms tethered around him, as if he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

“I like this,” he comments, a rock ballad fading into the rhythm of the waves against the sand.

“Me too.”

This is easy, not forced. Nothing more than the two of us, simply existing in each other’s arms, the rest of the world fading away.

Leaning back, he swipes a stray piece of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. Heat trails along my skin from his touch, a wave of self-consciousness taking over. I am nothing like the women Hux generally chooses. All those twig-like brunettes could not be any more opposite of me if they tried.

“You fit pretty perfectly.”

I look away, not wanting him to see my doubt. Because I want to believe it. I want to believe that he really does feel like I belong right here. But how can I? For one, my judgment is shit. Jeff proved that. For two, Hux doesn’t look at me like that. He never has.

“Hey,” he says, cupping my cheek and directing my gaze back to him. “Where’d you go?”