When I caught up to him, he held up a small bucket with various plastic shovels attached to the handle. They were just cheap, plastic beach toys, but he held them up in victory as though he had rescued a mermaid.
“Look what I saved: The environment!” he exclaimed. His smile was as bright as the sun as he stumbled out of the water and back onto the sandy beach.
“My hero!” I cooed, batting my eyelashes up at him. He grinned even broader.
“I used to play with these all the time. I made the best sandcastles,” he said, turning the bucket and shovels over in his hands. I could see a multitude of happy memories shining in his eyes as he played with the toys.
“Me too. I once made one with my dad that could have won a castle-building contest,” I said.
Noah grinned at me. “You wanna make one now?”
There was no way I was going to say no. The glint in his eye, the smile, the easy way to get to spend more time with him. Tourist or not, I liked him and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to build sandcastles with a handsome man. Besides, it was my day off.
“Only if we can fill the moat with actual water.” I crossed my arms, pouting my lips like the moat was a deal breaker.
“What kind of castle would it be without a water-filled moat?" he responded with mock seriousness. I grinned with childlike delight, hurrying over to a sandy spot where we could start building.
I kicked off my shoes, digging in the sand with my hands and feet to start building the foundation for our sandcastle. Noah dug up buckets of wet sand and dumped them in a pile next to the foundation. He moved like an excited kid. Every motion was exaggerated yet purposeful, but it was the grin plastered to his face that told me he was enjoying himself.
Once I had the base for the castle smooth, Noah spread wet sand across it and then used the bucket to pack it down. It took us a couple of minutes, but a strong foundation would make the castle last longer.
I went to fill the bucket with sand, carefully turning it over so that it would maintain its shape. I went to fill another, but Noah gently grabbed the bucket from my hands.
“The secret to a sandcastle is to build down, not up.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “If we build down, then we won't risk knocking it over, and it's far more stable.”
“Are you secretly a prize-winning sandcastle artist?” I asked, the idea making more sense as I thought about it. If we made a big pile of sand, packed it down, and then started shaping it, the sandcastle wouldn't fall apart because it was already solid.
“Only on weekends,” Noah teased.
Together we piled the wet sand on the center of the foundation, packing it down with our hands and giggling as our fingers touched. It was impossible not to run into him working as closely as we were. Our hands would brush as we packed the sand down; our knees would bump against each other as we reached for more sand; our elbows would knock together as we piled the sand higher.
“If we make a tower here, and a door here,” Noah explained, pointing to the lumpy sand with his hands. His eyes were bright as he imagined the castle in his mind and used his hands to explain it to me.“Then we can build this part up and make it last longer.”
“You sound like an architect,” I said with a smile. He gave me a grin that melted my heart. It made him even more attractive that he was excited and involving me.
“I've always had a thing for architecture. I never went to school for it, but in my spare time I like to design things. It isn't what pays the rent, but it's something I enjoy.” He turned back to the castle and started to use his hands and the shovel to create the basic structure of the castle.
I watched him for a moment before joining in, admiring the surety of his hands. I had a feeling not many people got to see this side of him. Creative. Happy. He practically glowed with enthusiasm as he guided the sand into a beautiful castle.
“Help me hold this here,” he said quietly. He put my hand on the wet sand, his direct touch sending an electric shock of desire straight down my spine. The ache of pure want grew in the pit of my stomach, filling my body with heat. If his hand could have this kind of effect on me, I wanted to know what other parts of his body could do.
Noah didn't seem to feel the same shock, but then, I was concentrating on the castle and not looking at him. I was afraid my blush would give me away if I looked at his face.
“There,” he said softly, releasing my hand. “All done.”
The ache didn't leave my core. In fact, with the removal of his hand, it grew stronger. I wanted him to touch me again. I needed him to touch me again.
Noah leaned back, examining his work. The castle was almost finished. It wasn't elaborate or immense, but it was beautiful with clean lines and simple towers that reminded me of a princess's castle. It looked like something Sleeping Beauty would be glad to claim as her own.
“It's gorgeous,” I said. Noah grinned.
“You have some sand on your cheek,” Noah replied, reaching a hand out to wipe it away. His fingers were gentle and warm against my face as he gently brushed the tiny grains from my skin. I shivered slightly, the heat in my core growing again.
Noah didn't pull his hand away once the sand was gone. His eyes focused on mine, pulling me deep into the pools of blue that led straight to his soul. His fingers caressed the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I met him halfway, winding my arms around his neck. His mouth slanted over mine, joining us together as if we had always meant to be. The kiss stole the air from my lungs and filled my body with light. My chest tightened and burned with a need that wasn't just physical. I wanted to dive into him like an ocean.
His tongue found mine, sending a bolt of hunger through me that was so strong I wasn't sure I'd survive. He tasted better than I could have imagined. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me into him. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
The sand was coarse beneath my knees in a beautiful contrast to the silkiness of his lips. My body was afire with sensation but totally focused on his kis