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She wasn't sure what was more upsetting. Was it that she'd probably never marry, and those heart-racing moments would be forever relegated to dreams, or was it because she was wearing short white pants to her wedding? No Southern girl in their right mind would settle for clam diggers, certainly not her. She had a reputation to uphold, and if she aspired to be the premiere planner in southern Texas, she couldn't even dream of clam diggers, no matter how cutely embellished they were.
She climbed out of bed and showered but couldn't get the dream out of her head. Even her lips tingled from the kiss that didn't happen, or maybe they were still feeling the kiss that did. She hadn't been kissed like that in years.
“Oh, who are you kidding?” she asked aloud as she applied her foundation. “You've never been kissed like that.” She'd read about toe-curling kisses, but she hadn't ever experienced one. She finished her makeup and pulled her hair into a messy bun. She didn't have the time to doll herself up today. She had a bride to find and a groom to satisfy.
Charlotte tried to push away the thought, but it caused her stomach to churn. She dressed in a nautical outfit, a blue and white shirt with anchors and navy-blue slacks. If she was steering this ship, she might as well dress like the captain. But why did she have this feeling that she wanted to run it all aground?
Less than an hour before Tiffany arrived, Charlotte made coffee and tidied her home. She walked out to the beach and picked up a stone. After putting a number on it, she tossed it in the water.
“What's today's wish?” a voice said from behind her.
She spun around to find Bastien. Today he wasn't in his suit but dressed in jeans and a blue Henley, slightly darker than his eyes. Dressed up or down, the man was a human form of art.
“I can't tell you, or it won't come true.”
He bent over and picked up a small conch shell. They rarely showed up fully intact, and if it were her, she'd have put it on her table with all her other treasures, but maybe it would bring Bastien a special wish, so she said nothing and watched him wind up and toss it back into the sea.
“Do you want to know what I wished for?”
She did, but she wouldn't ask. “It's your wish, Bastien.”
He stared at the water. “Nope, I gave this one to you. I wished that you'd get whatever you need in your life.”
Charlotte smiled and sighed. “You are kind and generous.”
“I'm not sure about being kind, but as far as generous ... money is all I have to offer.”
She was shocked to hear him say that. “Not true.” She wanted to tell him he was handsome, but that wasn't what a person should focus on. She loathed it when men saw her beauty first. Maybe that's what made Bastien different. He saw her for the person she was. He told her she was resourceful, creative, smart, and giving. He mentioned her beauty, but it came last.
“You have a big heart. You're conscientious, responsible, patient, and loving. You're also handsome.” She smiled and lowered her head. “And you kiss like a porn star.”
Bastien let out a soft chuckle. “Have you been kissed by porn stars often?”
Charlotte played in the sand with the toe of her shoe. “No,” she replied, “but you kiss like I imagine one would.”
He stepped closer to her and gently brushed a rogue strand of hair from in front of her eyes. His gaze never leaving hers, he bent his head down and pressed his lips to hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. She felt herself melting into him as his hands moved to cup her face and then around her waist as he pulled her closer.
Eventually, they broke apart, but neither seemed willing to let go. Instead, they stayed there, gazing into one another's eyes as if searching for something more than a physical connection.
Bastien cleared his throat and said, “I think we should get back inside before Tiffany arrives.” He smiled softly and grabbed her hand, leading them back up the beach toward Charlotte's house.
A shadow passed them, and Bastien turned to look at the man who'd appeared on the beach.
“Isn't that the guy from the diner? The loss prevention consultant?”
Bastien's eyes narrowed, and his body stiffened. “That's no consultant. I'd bet my money he's a private eye.”
“What?”
“Stay here,” Bastien said as he squared his shoulders. “I'm going to talk with him.”
Charlotte watched as Bastien walked towards the stranger on the beach. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but it appeared as if the conversation quickly turned confrontational, with both men standing in tense stances with voices raised. Moments later, Bastien pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to the man. They shook hands, and Bastien walked away, pulling out his phone and punching a number.
As the man walked between the two houses back toward his car, he stopped in front of her porch. “You've got yourself a good man there.”
“Oh, he's ...” She was about to say he wasn't hers, but she didn't finish her sentence. She had no idea what had transpired between the two, but something had. “Yes, he's a good man.” That statement felt true, down to her core. “Are you actually a loss prevention consultant?”
He laughed. “Are any of us who we say we are?” He disappeared around the corner of her house. She heard an engine roar and saw a black SUV leave the side of the road.
