Delicious Do-Over. Debbi Rawlins
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She watched him take a lingering look, as if he never got tired of the scene. “You really love it here.”
“I like the people, and to me there’s no better surfing than on the North Shore. But I still get rock fever between trips to the mainland.”
“I’ve heard the term before, not sure what it means.”
“Nothing changes. The weather is pretty much the same year round, except for the rainier months. I’m used to the leaves changing color in October, the first snowfall, skiing, all that seasonal stuff.”
“Yeah, by January I’m complaining about the cold but I’d miss the change of seasons, too.” She squinted at the expanse of beach ahead of them, wishing she’d bought the darn sunglasses. “How far are we going?”
“Almost there.”
She honestly didn’t see the difference between one spot to the next. Once they’d made it past the grassy field there was nothing but sand and scrub. But she said nothing when he kept walking. After a few more yards and he stopped, gazed out at the water and then kicked away some branches before setting down the cooler.
“This particular spot reserved for you?” she asked with a grin.
“You’ll thank me in a few minutes.” He took the bag from her and set it on top of the cooler before shaking out the straw mat, something that seemed to be a tourist staple.
Lindsey frowned, curious as to what he meant. While he laid out one of the beach towels, she scanned the horizon. A large ship that she’d assumed was on the move had actually anchored. Their opportunity to see the sun sinking out of view could have been ruined depending on where they’d chosen to plant themselves.
Rick lifted the cooler onto the corner of the mat, and then spread out one of the beach towels. She should have offered to help instead of staring, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The fluid ripple of muscle in his legs and arms as he moved held her captive. She hadn’t thought it possible, but Rick was better looking than she’d remembered.
She moistened her suddenly parched lips, her gaze sweeping the beach. Anticipation with a dash of apprehension swirled like freshly churned butter inside her.
It seemed she had him all to herself.
3
RICK FINISHED SETTING UP, then looked up at Lindsey. She hadn’t moved, just stood there quietly staring at him. He had no idea what was going through her head. Except that she seemed to have drifted off into another world, maybe another time. Like to that night six years ago when they had lain naked in the moonlight, kissing, making love, whispering secrets.
He had trouble not going there himself. Hard to do since it was way up there on the memorable-nights scale. Her blond hair was slightly shorter now, but still long enough that he itched to see it tousled and tumbling over her shoulders as she straddled him, rode him until he couldn’t hold back another second.
Not until she blinked and looked away did it occur to him that he was staring, too.
“Is this beach always so quiet?” she asked, gazing toward the ocean.
“I wish.” He got to his feet. “At one time only the locals knew about it. But most of the houses around here are rentals now so that increased the tourist traffic.”
“It’s still a lot nicer than the hotel beaches.” Her eyes widened suddenly, and she rubbed her arms.
He knew exactly what she was thinking. “This isn’t the beach where we…you know,” he said. “I thought about going there, but lately this one is more private.”
She gave a small nod. “It’s gotten a bit cool.”
“This from a woman who just left Chicago in March?”
“I was dressed more appropriately.” She held out her arms, indicating her red tank top as confirmation. Good thing she hadn’t looked down. Even though she wasn’t braless, her distended nipples poked at the thin fabric.
He had to turn his head. From the first moment he’d seen her, it hadn’t taken much to set him off. “Come here.” He lowered himself onto the mat and spread his legs, leaving enough room for her to sit in front of him. He patted the spot. “You can lean back against me.”
She hesitated, and then with a slightly shy smile, she sat down and drew her bent knees to her chest.
“Scoot back more,” he said when she’d left too much space between them.
“I don’t want to crowd you.”
Smiling at her naiveté, he wrapped his arms around her, bent knees and all, and pulled her against his chest. She hadn’t changed much from the shy sexy college student he’d met that night. He’d hadn’t dared hope she could still be the same sweet girl that had summoned every ounce of courage to get naked on the beach, and have sex with a guy she’d just met. But then they had connected in a big way in those predawn hours. He’d told her things….
He deeply inhaled her vanilla scent. “Warmer?” he asked, tightening his arms around her.
Her contented sigh went straight to his cock. “Perfect,” she said, relaxing against him.
He kissed her soft blond hair, then moved so that his cheek pressed hers. “Doesn’t seem like it’s been six years.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I figured you’d be married by now.”
“Seriously?” She shifted, and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugged, kept his gaze on the horizon, not keen on getting too deep into that conversation. “I was shocked to see your message on Facebook. A lot of people I went to school with are making that trip to the altar lately.”
“Same here. I received two wedding invitations from sorority sisters last week.” She settled back against him.
“No one can find me so they send invitations to my parents’ house in Michigan. My mom forwards my mail every two weeks.”
“That’s because you’re such a nomad.”
“Not true. I still spend a lot of time at the old homestead. I’d be there now if I hadn’t seen your message.”
“Really?” She straightened again, twisting around to look at him with those big blue eyes. “You stayed for me?”
“I did.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Me, too. Look.” He pointed toward the sun, partially hidden behind a pink cloud, the sky a golden glow. As far as sunsets went, this one wasn’t spectacular. There weren’t enough clouds to give them a real show. But he couldn’t keep looking into those soft blue eyes without saying something stupid.
Holding her, smelling her vanilla-scented hair and thinking back to that