Summer Love at the Beach (Summer Instalove)

peppers. “The coach also taught me some amazing stretches that none of my other trainers

had ever shown me. So, those dance folks have some secrets.”

“There’s always something to learn from everyone,” I agreed.

“What have you learned from someone lately?” he asked, his eyes darting to mine, then

back to the flashing knife.

Laughter bubbled out of me for a second. “My friend Laura was trying to tell me that talking

to guys didn’t have to be so stressful. That people always mess up conversations, and say

‘um’ all the time, and nobody notices.”

I loved watching such a huge man being so graceful and focused in the kitchen. Mitch

nodded. “It’s true. Also, you’re speaking to me just fine, for the record.”

He moved to the far end of the kitchen island and looked around. “Oh, hey – could you

please bring me two lemons?” Grabbing them from the big blue bowl on the table, I stood in

front of him, wondering if he wanted them on the cutting board.

“Now hold them over your head,” he said.

I obeyed him immediately, not knowing why. He grabbed me, his hands sliding up under the back of my shirt while he nuzzled my throat until I was laughing too hard. His eyes latched

onto my heaving breasts, kissing lower, pulling the fabric down just an inch.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “You’re delicious, Becca. This lemon broccoli chicken is going to be

pretty good, but I’m going to eat you for dessert.”

As he kissed up the front of my throat, I was filled with floating, dreamy heat again. Just as I desperately needed more, he stepped back, taking the lemons from me. “Thanks,” he

whispered, kissing my nose.

Sitting back down at his kitchen table, watching carefully as this sexy man cooked for me, it became easier to talk to him. The prickles of nervousness began to dissolve, just like the

dark clouds out the window that were blowing away and taking the rain elsewhere . Mitch

was careful to keep the conversation about the beach neighborhood, and the summer

weather, only occasionally asking me personal questions.

By the time we ate dinner, I felt like I was really getting to know Mitch. Afterwards, he

made us coffee spiked with just a drop of Kahlua, and I felt completely comfortable

snuggling up beside him on the wide bench at the end of his yard, overlooking the beach. It

was getting pretty dark, and the deep blues and grays made everything feel quiet.

He reached out to lift my necklace with one finger, examining the string of seven stars of

various sizes. “I’ve noticed that you touch this when you’re thinking, or you’re nervous. Is