Chapter Sixteen
The next day they went for a long walk on the beach and Janica filled up his pockets with seashells, exclaiming that each one was “the most beautiful one she'd ever seen.” They bought some clams and mussels out on the pier and had the messiest lunch in memory feeding each other buttery mollusks, which only got messier when Janica stopped eating and instead squirted them at him, shooting them out of their shells like little slippery missiles. His immediate thoughts about the huge mess they were making and what a pain in the ass it was going to be to clean up were quickly overridden by the need to nail her with his own uneaten clams.
They'd ended up fully dressed in the shower, cleaning each other carefully, first with a bar of soap and their hands, and then their mouths, and then he took her up against the tile wall again. It had been a combination of playful and hot and hungry too that he'd never known existed.
Night fell and they made burgers on the grill, also polishing off a bag of potato chips. Luke could have easily written a textbook on proper nutrition, but it was the strangest thing that instead of having less energy after easing up on the “good” stuff, he had more.
But it wasn't the food, he knew.
It was Janica.
As his mid-30s had crept up on him he'd been more and more careful about diet and exercise. But with her he felt at least a decade younger. Still, when she reached into the grocery bags after dinner and pulled out a huge bag of marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers, he decided that next time he should pay closer attention to what they bought at the store.
Of course, that would mean he'd somehow have to learn how to stop focusing on her ass as she walked down the aisles.
Which meant that it was far more likely he'd have to get used to eating crap food. Because her ass was a goddamned miracle.
It wasn't until he was almost past his thoughts, that he realized where he was going with them. When had grocery shopping with Janica in the future become something that was a given beyond the next few days?
He knew better, knew he'd been horribly remiss about stopping things between them from going any further. Where Janica was concerned, right now he just didn't have it in him to be the strong one. To be the voice of reason. To do the right thing, no matter the personal cost.
He looked up just as she threw the bag of marshmallows at him, and then the chocolate. He caught them right before they nailed him in the forehead.
After grabbing a box of graham crackers, she headed for the door. “How are your fire-making skills?”
He nailed her with a hard look that told her she didn't know who she was messing with. “I was the top scout in my troop.”
“Of course you were,” she teased. “I don't know why I even bothered to ask. Some things are just a given, aren't they?”
“Hey,” he said as he caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist, “don't knock the outdoor skills, babe. Hands down, there's no one you would rather be lost in the woods with.”
She reached her hand up to his cheek. “Even without the mad scouting skills, there's no one I would rather be with. In the woods or otherwise.” And then she pulled out of his hold and scampered down the stairs.
His head, his heart, reeled as he followed after her.
She'd held up her end of the “just fun” bargain really well so far. Almost too well. So far, that had been her only slip.
But knowing how much she enjoyed being with him wasn't what had him reeling. After all, he already knew she loved him.
No, what gave him pause was how much he liked hearing her say it.
How much he liked knowing it.
Too damn much.
She was already collecting rocks and arranging them in a circle on the sand by the time he reached her with an armful of sticks and broken logs that he'd found in the woods between the cabin and the beach. It was a still night out on the coast, and he easily lit a match and put it to the kindling. Minutes later, a bonfire was roaring.
It was the most natural thing in the world to sit down on a blanket in front of the fire with Janica between his legs, her back pressed to his stomach, his arms around her, holding her tight. They stared into the flames in silence for quite a while, her head leaning back against his chest, his chin resting lightly on the top of her dark head.
But despite what should have been the perfect peace of being out on the beach under the stars, Luke felt as if his insides were shifting around, conflicting emotions pushing at each other inside his chest.
He wanted to know more about this beautiful woman he was holding. He already knew just how she like to be kissed, stroked. He knew what made her cry out with pleasure, exactly how to take her to the peak and over.
It wasn't enough, damn it.
“Did you always know you wanted to design clothes?”
He felt the slightest tightening of her body against his before she replied. “Pretty much. Lily used to take me to the store and buy whatever dolls were on sale.”
“What kind of doll goes on sale?”
He loved feeling her laughter rumble through her chest to his. “The really ugly ones. But they weren't ugly for long, because we'd head to the fabric store next and rifle through their scrap bins. You could fill a bag for five dollars. I'd spend hours cutting and sewing at home.”
“Why do I have a feeling you weren't making your dolls pretty little dresses?”
He felt the light jab of her elbow against his ribs. “Are you accusing me of making them look like little Goth sluts?”
He brushed the hair away from the side of her neck and pressed a kiss there by way of an apology. “No. But you definitely don't look at things the way everyone else does.”
Her skin was so soft, so sweet smelling, one kiss wasn't enough.
He wanted more.
And not just more of her incredible body. He wanted more of her. More information about what made her tick. More stories about how she'd grown from a little girl into this incredible woman.
“Was it hard to start a business?”
She shifted again in obvious surprise at his question and her hair shifted back to cover her neck. “I thought we weren't asking questions?”
She was right. He'd asked for fun. And nothing but. If he were being smart, he'd simply strip her clothes off and make love to her, no more words, no more getting inside her head. Her heart.
But it wasn't enough.
“I want to know more about you.”
The silence stretched out between them, the crackling of the fire and the waves washing up on the shore not nearly big enough to fill it.
Finally, she softly said, “I was a little scared.”
It took him a long moment to realize she was answering his earlier question, rather than commenting on his wanting to know her. Because she had to know, just as he did, that it was a really bad idea to talk like this, to get in even deeper with each other.