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"No. I wouldn't rather." She groans. "I have to go. To sleep. Not with you, just to—Oh forget it. I'm exhausted, and I have no idea what I'm saying."
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I'd love to see you again. I'm tired of the city, hired a car for a drive…anywhere." Maybe I hadn't hired a car specifically to visit her, but I came up with my plan two seconds ago. I clear my throat, dismayed by how hesitant I sound when I ask, "May I come to see you?"
She says nothing for a few seconds. "Well, we could meet in a public place. When will you get here?"
"I could be there tomorrow. Mid-morning."
"Okay. Meet me at the beach." She rattles off directions to a beach in Michigan, punctuating her words with a yawn.
I grab a pen off the table beside the sofa and scrawl those directions on my palm. "Better let you go. Get some rest."
"See you tomorrow."
We hang up. And I hunt down a notepad so I can transcribe Calli's directions onto paper and wash the ink off my hand. Tomorrow, I'll get to see her again. At a beach. That means neither of us will wear much clothing, right? People wear swimsuits at the beach. Maybe she'll choose a bikini. She did wear a slinky frock on the night we met, and another one yesterday at the wedding reception. What are the odds she'll treat me to that body in a skimpy swimsuit?
Honestly, though, I won't care if she shows up in a clown costume. I'll want to shag her no matter what.
But I will take it slow. Not my strong suit, but Calli is worth the extra effort. I know she is.
A quick check on my mobile tells me I have a long drive ahead of me. Sure, I could probably get Lachlan to buy me an airline ticket, but I don't want to tell him why I need to go to Michigan. Not yet. He won't understand. Besides, I'd like to drive there and see more of this country. It's my big adventure, isn't it? Might as well make the most of it. After packing my bags, I head out to my hired car that was just delivered to me and use the map software on my mobile to type in the destination Calli gave me.
And I'm away.
By the time I reach Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I'm already knackered. It's evening now, anyway, so I find a small motel where I can spend the night. Lachlan would not approve. My room didn't cost a small fortune. But it's comfortable, and I sleep better tonight because I know what will happen tomorrow.
Calli Douglas will be waiting for me.
Chapter Seven
Thin white clouds glide across the blue sky as gentle waves lap at the golden sand on the beach, the water shimmering a pale aqua blue. The four-foot cliff behind us juts out to our right, sequestering us from the beachgoers who occupy the long, straight stretch beyond. Calli chose this spot for us, and I can't help wondering what she wants to do with me that requires this much privacy.
Oh, I have ideas. I always do when I'm with a beautiful woman.
I've never seen a beach like this one. The lochs in Scotland are deep and dark, and though Calli told me Lake Superior is very deep too, this inlet seems more like the Caribbean bays I've seen in movies. I had no idea Michigan looked like this.
Calli sits cross-legged on a beach towel, gazing out at the view of the lake, though she keeps glancing at me too.
I'm relaxing on the beach towel adjacent to hers, but I don't even try to stop looking at her. Lying on my side, propped up on one elbow, I admire the view of Calli—though she's not wearing a bikini, like I'd hoped she might. Still, her outfit is sexy enough to satisfy me until the day I can convince her to try a string bikini. Or nudity. Do they have nude beaches in Michigan?
I skim my gaze over her for the tenth time, drinking in the sight of her legs, mostly exposed by tan shorts that cover only one-third of her thighs. A bright-pink tank top covers her torso, with glitter-coated red flowers over her chest, and the neckline plunges low enough to make my mouth water. I'd love to fondle and taste those tits. The semitransparent, loose-fitting white shirt she wears only makes her more enticing. Even her white socks and walking shoes appeal to me—becauseshe'swearing them.
I arrived in jeans and a T-shirt, both tight enough to show off my body without being overt about it. Why shouldn't I show it off? Women like to look at me, and I like watching them do that.
Especially when it's Calli admiring me.
I gaze at her face until she finally notices. "You like me."
"You have no idea what I think about you. And vice versa."
Maybe I've started to smirk a wee bit. She can't convincingly deny the fact, so she claims I can't know the truth. "If ye donnae like me, why would you bring me to a private place?"
I'd arrived before Calli, so I waited in the car park for her. A nice elderly couple took pity on me and kept me company, and the three of us wound up laughing like we'd known each other for years. They live in Michigan, though not here in the Upper Peninsula, which they explained is not physically connected to "The Mitten" aka the Lower Peninsula. It's all very confusing. That part of the state is vaguely shaped like a mitten, though.
Once Calli arrived, I said goodbye to my new mates.
"I'm starting to think," I say, "you have lascivious intentions."
She tries to pull off a nonchalant attitude, but it's not convincing. "I like the shade. Too much sun makes me feel sweaty and icky."
