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Libby looked around. There was nowhere to change. The public restrooms covered in gra ti weren’t a viable option.
“We can use the truck,” Reagan announced, reading her mind. “Before you concern yourself with public indecency, I’ve got an idea.”
Reagan’s idea involved covering the windshield with a sunshade and the other windows with some of her shirts.
Alone in the truck, Libby hesitated to get undressed. Despite the private cocoon Reagan created, she was still in public. A
quick change might not be terrible, but the plan to slip into a bathing suit while they had a chance was tricky.
As Libby twisted awkwardly in the two-seater, she honked the horn with her knee, triggering an audible chuckle from the woman standing guard outside. Shit. I should’ve told her to leave it running. After a sweaty struggle, Libby traded her dress for a tasteful one-piece covered up by denim shorts and a white peasant blouse.
“How’d it go?” Reagan asked once she emerged, covered in perspiration and grateful for the breeze even though it was hot. It was better than the narrow oven she’d been contorting in.
“I’m regretting not having slipped the suit on underneath the dress,” she admitted, flicking humid, messy hair out of her face.
“Fair,” Reagan decided. “My bad. I should’ve mentioned it before we left your o ce.”
Before she could ask mentioned what, it was obvious she meant preparing for a trip to the beach. In a single fluid motion, Reagan pulled her shirt over her head, exposing a toned body and a high neck bikini top that looked more sports bra than bathing suit.
Libby’s
gaze lingered on the curve of her muscular shoulders and the soft tone of her paler abdomen.
“Throwing huge pots on the wheel is a nice workout,”
Reagan said, reading her mind again and forcing Libby to look away at the handful of colorful kites in the air across the park.
Leaving the comment right where it was and turning her attention toward the flying fabric, Libby cleared her throat.
“Who has time to do this in the middle of the day?”
Reagan slipped on a cropped Blondie band tank top and moved their bags from the truck bed to the cab before
locking it. “Tourists,” she replied as if it should’ve been obvious.
Kite flying was a lot more fun than Libby remembered.
Though to be fair, all she ever had as a kid were the little crappy ones from the pharmacy toy aisle. The extravagant phoenix that danced against the bright blue sky was nothing short of art. She was so focused on keeping the shaped nylon afloat, she forgot the point was to create a backlog of pictures, the evidence of a long-standing relationship and definitely not a recent fabrication. For once, South Florida’s lack of seasons was useful.
“That was fun,” Libby decided, accepting the bottle of icy, cold water Reagan o ered.
“Nothing like being a visitor in your city and doing all the stu we take for granted,” she replied, twisting o the cap to her own bottle and taking a gulp.
Libby nodded. “Well, it’s been a solid three years since I’ve been to the beach, so we can keep the streak going.”
The dimpled smile that shone in response was brighter than the sun partially blinding Libby. “Away we go then,”
Reagan said before pointing to the parking lot on the other end of the park.
“Hey, do you wanna drive?” Reagan asked when they returned to the truck. “I saw how you were looking at her. I can tell you’re interested. I’ve got an eye for these things.”
Libby laughed. “Coming after my job, are you?” After a beat she realized Reagan was serious. “You really trust me with this? Isn’t this like your baby?”
Reagan pushed her long bangs out of her face, revealing sparkling dark eyes. “I’m already trusting you with my heart, aren’t I?” She tossed the keys at Libby before could say anything else.
Driving from downtown to the beach was a lot more fun in Reagan’s truck than in Libby’s SUV. With the windows
open and music blaring, it was the most freedom Libby had felt in years.
