My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

“It’s a surprise.”

“Is it for you to relax or for me to move forward?”

“Both,” he says, his voice way too close to me. I look over my shoulder and find Ryan right behind me. He reaches around and places his cup in the sink, and I catch a whiff of his scent. All. Fucking. Man. None of that expensive cologne for him. Just bodywash and all him. I suppress a groan, rinsing the dishes and throwing them into the dishwasher. I seriously need to get a hold of myself. I know it’s just my body recognizing there’s a hot man in the vicinity, but it’s hard to ignore the way I find myself gravitating toward him and wanting to act on these feelings.

Since Ryan’s truck is bigger and more comfortable, he insists we take it to wherever it is we’re going. In exchange, I call dibs on being in control of the music. He isn’t thrilled but agrees. The ride is filled with me singing to my favorite jams while Ryan bitches that I have the worst taste in music known to man. It’s a blast. Since we’re up before the rest of California, the drive is smooth sailing, and an hour later, we’re parking at the Long Beach ferry terminal.

“Are we taking the ferry to Catalina?”

“Yep.”

I clap my hands together. “I’ve always wanted to go there.” I take Ryan’s hand in mine. “Let’s go.”

Once we board the ferry, we grab a couple lattes then make our way to the edge of the boat. A few minutes later, it leaves the terminal. The water is choppy, so the ferry sways. I lose my footing, and Ryan catches me before I fall to the ground.

“Careful there,” he murmurs, placing his arms on either side of me.

“Always the savior,” I joke.

My back is to his front, and even though it’s a tad chilly from the wind, his body blocks most of it, keeping me nice and warm. I allow myself to sag against his chest, reveling in how good he feels.

“Look over there.” He points to the left at the dolphins swimming by the ferry. It’s beautiful and magical. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, taking a million pictures.

When they’re gone, I flip the camera around. “Say cheese.” I make sure Ryan and I are both in the picture. He glances down, his eyes searing into mine through the camera. “Smile.” I poke his side with my other hand, and a small smile appears. I snap the picture, then take a moment to look at it. I haven’t taken any pictures in the last year, the last one being when I was with Ian for Thanksgiving. My face is a tad slimmer from me not eating as much, and I have slight purple rings under my eyes from sleep deprivation, but my smile is real, and my cheeks are pink. For the first time in a long time, I’m genuinely happy.

Once we arrive, we grab a golf cart and take it for a ride to explore the island. Ryan drives with one hand, holding mine with the other. I don’t know when it happened, that holding hands became the norm for us, but I like it—his strong hand in mine.

We eat lunch looking out at the marina and afterward, we walk along Crescent Street, window shopping.

“This is so pretty.” I point to a beautiful shell necklace. I’ve never seen anything like it. “The colors are so vibrant. It reminds me of happiness.” It reflects how I feel.

“You should get it.”

“Eh… Maybe I’ll come back.” I go to set it down, but Ryan takes it from me and proceeds to the register.

“What are you doing?”

Without answering me, he has the cashier ring him up. Once he’s paid, he says, “Turn around.”

I do as he says, and he brushes my hair to the side. He puts the necklace on me and clasps it in the back. I find a mirror so I can admire the necklace. When my eyes land on the mirror, my heart skips a beat. The necklace is beautiful, but that’s not what has my attention. It’s the way Ryan and I look together. His pout to my smile. His roughness to my softness. I’m tiny and he’s huge. But somehow I can imagine it—Ryan and me. I swallow thickly and briefly close my eyes, pushing the thought to the side.

“What do you think?” he prompts, forcing me to crack my eyes open.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It looks perfect on you.”

I turn around to face him. “Thank you.” On my tiptoes, I kiss his cheek, only he doesn’t realize what I’m doing and he moves slightly. My lips land on the corner of his mouth, his light stubble tickling my flesh.

“We better get moving,” he says, clearing this throat and backing away.