Southern Heartbreaker (Charleston Heat 4)

“Pretty insane,” she shouts above the sound of the engine and the water and the wind, looking at me. “The history of this city is wild. Violent.”

“So many stories. Most of them untold.”

Eva nods. “So many voices shut out. Silenced. Such a huge tragedy. Interesting to see how far Charleston has come since then.”

“And how far we still have to go.”

“Right. Exactly.” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Looks at me.

I look back.

We keep moving.

She gasps, smiling, when we hit especially big waves that a passing tourist ferry puts off in its wake, grabbing my forearm to keep steady. I put a hand on her shoulder and gently push her down onto the seat.

“You’d better sit for now,” I say. The crease between my thumb and forefinger rests on the bare skin of her neck. I linger there.

She gives my leg a gentle shove. Her hand lingering on the side of my knee.

All this lingering. I like it.

“You really are a dad,” she says. “So protective.”

“I was always protective of you, Eva.”

She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. Gives my knee a quick squeeze.

“You did look out for me. Not in a possessive way. But in a way that made me feel safe. You’re good at that.”

My blood spikes. I’m trying to keep my body—and my feelings—in check here. I mean, Eva just told me she doesn’t want kids. And I have a kid. I get why she was so adamant about us not working. I get why she’s been implying this can be a summer fling, nothing more.

I can still show her a nice time, though. Still flirt with her. Maybe fool around a little, too, if she’s down for it. It’s just so fun. And freeing.

“I’m good at a lot of things,” I say.

Her lips part, and she touches her tongue to the side of her mouth.

Lord help me.

“Where d’you wanna go?” I ask. “We could go for a ride, a swim—there are plenty of beaches around where we can eat lunch. Some popular, others not so much.”

Please, I silently beg her, eyes trailing over the exposed strap of her bikini. Please pick the not-so-popular beach option.

“A quiet spot sounds nice,” she says. Her hand is still on my leg.

It’s all I can do not to lean down and cover her mouth with mine right then.

“Hungry?”

“A little.”

“I have a good spot in mind. Not too far, but pretty private.”

She wags her eyebrows and smiles. “Sounds dangerous.”

“We don’t—”

“I’m totally just kidding,” she says, giving my leg another shove. God I love it when she touches me like this. All flirty and cute and carefree. “Or maybe I’m not.”

I had zero expectations coming into this. Still don’t. All I want is to spend time with Eva. Whether we chat over beers, sunbathe while listening to some tunes, or end up making out, I’m game for whatever.

I just have no clue how this adult dating thing works. Especially when we’re trying to keep things casual. Is the second date too soon for some light dry humping? Where should we draw the line? I don’t want to move too fast. But I can’t seem to help it when it comes to Eva. Maybe because we’ve already done this dating thing once before. We have this built-in familiarity that’s allowed us to skip the getting-to-know-you phase where you’re supposed to be polite and careful.

If I’m being honest, it’s kind of nice. But I don’t know where that leaves us. I don’t know what’s appropriate.

I’ll let Eva take the lead. See where we end up.

I move my palm to the nape of her neck, trailing my thumb over the slope of her shoulder. Trailing it underneath the dark wisps of hair there.

Her breath catches. My dick takes note.

“I like the sound of that,” I say.

The coast is littered with uninhabited barrier islands. I pick the closest one and head in that direction.

Eva stands when the beach comes into view. It’s small but pristine, the firm stretch of white sand strewn with driftwood. A few intrepid trees rise out of the tall grasses a bit farther back. But otherwise, it’s just water, sand, and Carolina blue sky.

Couldn’t have picked a better day.

I cut the engine and anchor twenty or so yards off the beach. The rush of the ocean fills the silence, punctuated every so often by the plunk of the water against the boat.

“Wow,” Eva says, resting her forearms on the top of the low windshield. “Ford, it’s beautiful out here. And so peaceful.”

“Very peaceful when you don’t have a four-year-old begging you to put her swimmies on, or play Marco Polo with her,” I say with a smile. “Not that I don’t enjoy Marco Polo. It’s just nice to have some adult company out here for a change.”

Eva grins, sliding her sunglasses up onto her head. “How about I get lunch started? I need to work a little magic before it’s ready.”