The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen

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The afternoon of fun in the sun for Southwood families wound down to an evening of serenity. The sun set in the distance over a row of pine trees, casting a golden glow over the calm lake. Homemade ice cream in all kinds of flavors—chocolate, vanilla, and the local favorite, butter pecan—were churned at the cleaned-off picnic tables. Old folks with their hand cranks faced off against the new generation’s electric ice-cream machines hooked up to a generator off the back of someone’s truck.

Belly filled with chilled triangular slices of watermelon, Lexi set the rind down to save for the horses from the hayride later and stretched out on the docks beside Stephen. Finally, he rolled up the hem of his pants and stuck his feet in the water. Hoofbeats caused the water to vibrate.

“They’re fine,” she said, covering her eyes with the crook of her elbow. Stephen kicked the water.

“What?” He chuckled nervously. “I’m not worried.”

Lexi readjusted herself on her elbows, admiring the way he fretted over the girls. Stephen had taken over more responsibility. With school officially over, Stephen had planned out all the activities he was doing with the girls, including a trip to his parents’. He’d invited Lexi, but she told him she’d have to think about it. Meeting the parents? So soon? It had only been two weeks since he burst through her front doors.

“Kimber is on a hayride with a bunch of kids.” Lexi bumped her shoulder against his. “What can happen?”

Stephen raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“What?” she asked innocently, and studied his face.

“You have been sneaking kisses from me all afternoon right under their noses.” Stephen kept his gaze straight ahead. The right side of his cheeks rose and he broke out into a grin.

Heart fluttering, Lexi rolled her eyes and sat upright, dipping her feet into the water beside his. “I did not sneak anything.”

“So,” he began slowly, “are you saying you did not wait until the kids went into the water to kiss me?”

“I cannot help if no one is paying attention to us.” Lexi kicked a bit of water toward him.

“No one is paying attention now,” he said with a challenge in his voice, “except for the folks living in the house across the lake.”

Lexi didn’t need to follow his direction to know what house. Instead she cocked her head to the side, “You’re the one who said I’ve been stealing kisses.” Okay, so she had stolen one or two here and there. She liked the excitement of asking him to help get things out of the trunk of her Cadillac, then stepping up on her tiptoes for a quick peck. “Maybe you need to steal some of your own.”

Without hesitation, Stephen leaned to the right and brought his face to hers. He smelled of coconut sunscreen and bug spray. And he completely turned her on. His almond-shaped eyes stared down at her lips. The pulsating of her heart was erratic. She licked her lips in preparation and closed her eyes. Gently, his tongue grazed her lips and touched hers. She parted her lips wider, and her left hand supported her weight as she turned to him, her other hand pressed against his heart; the beat of his matched hers.

Fireflies danced around them and a cool breeze whipped between them. This day had been the closest thing to perfection she’d experienced in a long time.

A couple of teenagers in a paddleboat out in the center of the water were playing around, screaming. Stephen pulled away. “Say, who lives in the house over there?”

“Why? Are you interested in buying it?” For a few days last week, Stephen’s driver had taken them around town to scout homes. Keenan took the long way around each time. Lexi assumed because it gave them more opportunity to make out in the backseat. Stephen gave her every experience she’d missed out on while away at an all-girls boarding school, including making out on the couch, worrying every time they heard the kids coming down the steps.

“Scouting.” Stephen faced her. “I still have to make a living and I’m not sure I made enough friends today who want to entrust me to sell their homes. I got a text from one of the station producers while you were at the waterslides.”

“It’s a Sunday, Stephen.”

“I’m sorry, but I had to take it. Doesn’t the home remind you of Tara?”

“I know the house very well.” Lexi cocked her head to the side and studied the manicured lawn from the distance. Typically her viewpoint came from the docks by the forty-foot yacht. A couple of yards away from the docks, the trees parted to offer a peek at the back of the plantation home. “My parents live there, so whatever plans you’re thinking for them, forget it.”

Water lapped against the docks, emphasizing the silence between them. Stephen came from a huge family, whether he wanted to be a part of it or not. His mother still wanted to see him. Hell, his mother wanted to meet her. What would Mrs. Reyes think of Lexi and her past?

“I’m sorry if I snapped.” Lexi rubbed her shoulder against his. “I told you we’re not close.”

“Do you want to be?”

She half shrugged. “I did. I’ve tried, but I’ve brought so much embarrassment. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late, Lexi.” Stephen wrapped his arm around her shoulders, absorbing the pain. She tried not to cry.

“I did try. My folks don’t even bother returning my cards. At least then I knew they got them. My mother’s handwriting would be delicately written on the front, Return to Sender. I have no family.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve got me.”