Page 69 of Worth the Trip

I looked at him.

“More walking?”

“Your shoes comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“I wasn’t complaining.”

“Pre-complaint.”

“That is not a thing.”

“Preventative coaching.”

I laughed and followed him.

By a little after five, the promenade had given way to sand.

We walked beyond the crowded portion of the beach until umbrellas and families thinned behind us, and the Gulf occupied most of what I could see.

The breeze lifted my curls across my face.

I tucked them behind one ear and caught Landon looking. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I been staring all day.”

“That doesn’t make it less noticeable.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

I looked away before my face gave him anything else to work with.

Landon stepped out of his loafers, rolled the cuffs of his linen pants above his ankles, and walked straight into the edge of the water.

I laughed.

“You planned this whole day in expensive clothes just to walk into the Gulf?”

“They pants, Hershey. They’ll recover.”

A wave came in higher than expected and splashed halfway up his shin.

I laughed harder.

He looked down. “Tide got ambitious.”

“I thought water taught patience.”

“It also teaches disrespect.” Another wave rolled around his feet. He looked toward me. “Come here.”

“I have sandals on.”