When We Kiss

“Tie it in a knot like last time.”

“You’re bossing me around again.”

“It’s time you started doing what I tell you.”

Okay.

“Come inside and give me a second.” Spinning on the ball of my foot, I hurry into my bedroom.

Leaving the tee on, I pull it tight at my waist and knot it, and I grab a pair of cutoffs. Then I dash into my bathroom and quickly brush my teeth, powder my nose, and apply a few coats of mascara. I grab my red lipstick and rub it across my top lip, pressing my mouth together and blotting it with a tissue. I scratch my fingers through my hair to activate the waves, then I dash back out to the living room.

“What type of shoes do I need?”

He straightens, and that look is back, hot and hungry. “Something you can slip off easily.”

The suggestion almost makes me shiver. “Okay…” I grab my black flip-flops, and follow him out to the truck. Inside, a basket is on the seat between us.

“What’s this?”

“Brunch.”

“You made brunch?”

“Sure.” He gives me a wink. “Eggs are my specialty.”

Eggs. I don’t make the obvious joke.

We’re in the truck and the windows are down. Country music plays softly on the radio, and his sunglasses are back in place, his arm rests on the door, and I admire the lines in his muscles. Reaching out, I hold my hand in the breeze. The sun warms my skin, and it’s toasty but not humid. Fall is creeping in, but it’s still hot enough to wear shorts and be comfortable.

He drives in the direction of the strip, but just before we enter the tourist area, he takes the turn leading into the hills. I give him a curious glance, and that sexy muscle moves in his square jaw. I look out the window at the million-plus dollar homes passing as we rise higher into the bluffs. At the biggest one, he pulls in the driveway and enters a code on the keypad.

The iron gates slowly open, and my jaw drops. This place has to be worth several million dollars. “Do you know the owner?”

“No, but they asked us to keep an eye on it during the winter months. Thought you might want to help me check it out.”

He parks the truck and grabs the basket before climbing out. I hesitate, unsure what to do. Chad doesn’t give me a choice, coming around to open my door and extending his hand.

Chewing on my lip, I look from the house to him. “Isn’t this sort of… illegal?”

He cocks his head like he’s thinking about it. “Don’t tell me you care about that.”

I take a deep breath and his hand, following quietly along the path that circles the house and leads out to the bluff overlooking the ocean. It’s breathtaking.

“Wow,” I gasp, stopping to gaze at the blue waters below.

Chad steps up beside me and looks out as well. “That’s exactly what I thought when I saw it yesterday. I wanted to show it to you.”

His tone warms my chest. I like the idea of him thinking of me more than I should. “So we’re not actually going inside the house?”

“Without a reason?” He gives me a disappointed look. “That would be breaking and entering. No, we’re doing some run-of-the-mill grounds checking… and brunch… and whatever else we want.”

My eyes narrow, and I wonder what that means. “Checking the grounds would be just looking around, not hanging out on their beach. Isn’t that trespassing?”

“Only if we get caught.” He takes my hand again and leads me down a long sandy path lined with soft sea grasses.

At the bottom it opens up to a wide, private beach, and he puts the basket down and pulls out a large towel, spreading it over the sand. In the basket are a bottle of prosecco wrapped in a cold sleeve, two silicone wine glasses, and a small carton of orange juice. Then he takes out a square container of what looks like frittata and two forks.

“Did you make this?”