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"Sure, if that's your story." Judson smiles and places his hand on mine.
"I'm here with you." He reassures and squeezes my hand. My stomach does backflips to hear him say that.
"Get me a sangria, hotshot." I wink at him, sliding out of my chair to go to the restroom. I can feel his eyes on me as I make my way past the bar, checking out my ass. I smile to myself as I push the door open. I didn't even need to use the bathroom, but I have made it a habit to wash my hands before a meal. Germs are one of my phobias. I pull the door back open, and throw my paper towel in the trash. Standing in my way is Judson.
"What the hell are you doing?" I whisper. He is blocking the entire entrance waiting on me, "What if someone else came out, you creep?" I laugh and push him back with one hand on his chest.
"You shook your ass the whole way to the bathroom. I had to follow you to let all the guys at the bar know that you weren't available." He turns me into the wall; his body tight against mine. He looks down at me with fire in his dark eyes, "Because you are not available."
I feel the heat between us, and I swear there is an actual fire between my legs. He glances down at me, still sandwiched between him and the wall. He turns my hat around backward and pulls my mouth to his. I typically am not one for PDA, but he makes me forget my own name sometimes, so I could care less who is watching. He pulls away and pulls me by the hand back to the table. My face is bright red, and I can feel the tingle on my lips still from that kiss.
"Now, who is the jealous one?" I laugh as he scans the bar, full of what looks like frat boys out on a fishing trip.
"Why don't you just pee on me next time, you know, mark your territory." He beams and flashes the brightest smile as if he is picturing my suggestion. If they were looking, they are certainly not turning to look now. He is not the type of guy you piss off.
I gulp down my whole drink and find myself zoned out. Daydreaming is something I often do. It doesn't take much to be entirely in a different place, here physically but mentally somewhere else. I can't help but feel a little guilty for being here with Judson while Dakota is at home, just wondering where we stand. I mean, sure, the ring in his hand and the failed wedding is an indicator that we are over, but there hasn't been a conversation. I've ignored him for five months straight, and as I decide to call Dakota tonight to set it all straight, I look over at Judson, and he is waving his hands in front of my face. Damn, I'm terrible.
"I'm sorry, I was just... I'm sorry." I stumble over my words.
"What is it, Blake? You ok?" He motions for the waitress to bring more drinks.
"Yeah, I'm just. I'm fine." I look down at the table and pick at my fingers, a nervous habit I have picked up over the years.
"Look at me. What is it? You can tell me." He demands.
"I just feel a little bit guilty, ripping apart lives and running away. I even feel guilty for smiling with you, even being here with you." The words make my heart fall into my belly. I swear, sometimes, I should just shut up.
"Those people would be hurting even if you were home, Blakely." He is right. I hear the words but can't wash the guilt away with them.
"Yeah," I whisper, clutching my new drink. The food arrives, and I am hopeful it will be enough of a distraction to keep Judson off the subject.
We finish up most of the food that I'm positive was intended for an army, not two people. It was delicious. I swear I love the beach, the real unfrozen seafood, the salty air, just all of it. Judson pays the bill, refusing to let me pay. He does a phenomenal job playing the gentleman role. His mama must have taught him well. I catch the feeling his mom did most of the raising. I could be off, but the vibe he puts off makes me think he would've been a mama's boy. He leads me out of the restaurant and back onto the dock by the hand. He grabs me by the waist as I jump over onto the boat. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, but he has a pretty athletic build, so I am chalking it up to football or basketball or something.
"Did you play football?" I ask to ease my curiosity.
"A little bit. Why?" He looks puzzled, but it's hard to see his eyes through his sunglasses.
"Just wondering." I laugh as he sets me down, still holding me between his arms. Dakota never lifted me the way he does.
"I'm not much of a team sport kind of guy." He shrugs.
"What kind of guy are you then?" I pull his sunglasses down his nose and look into his eyes.
"Guess you'll have to stick around and find out." He pushes his Raybans back up and smiles. I can tell by how I feel when I see that grin that I am in way over my head.
After a couple of cruising hours and me taking ten thousand pictures while telling Judson all of the houses I love, we are back. Judson docks the boat a few blocks away from the house, and I gather up my things as we hop off the boat onto the dock. The walk isn't very far, and the fact that we are walking hand in hand makes it go by that much faster. I don't think all day would've been long enough. I find myself sad that the not-date is coming to an end. We walk up the steps, and I dig around in my purse for the key.
"Thank you for coming with me." He blurts as I place the key into the door and turn the knob.
"Thanks for having me." I turn back into him as he threads his hand him my hair, taking my lips and pulling them to his. Kissing him sends my stomach into backflips pretty much instantly. It's soft and subtle, and I'm pretty much a puddle on the ground, like every time he touches me.
"I've got some calls to make and an online meeting in a few, but if you want, I could bring dinner over later?"
"That sounds amazing."
I push the door closed and watch him walk down the steps. He is excited as he pulls his arm down in victory and whisper-screams, "YES!”, completely unaware that I am watching him out the window.
CHAPTER 13
