We watch a few boats speed through the inlet, making their way to the ocean, and then I remember I’m not here to sightsee.
“So, what’s your dog’s name?”
His eyes dart from the ocean to me. “Spanky,” he says.
I laugh. “That’s a cute name. What kind is he?”
“A wiener dog.”
“You don’t strike me as a dachshund type of guy.”
“No?” He leans against the rail. “What breed would you think I’d have?”
Under the guise of thoughtful consideration to his question, I take the opportunity to peruse his tall frame from his tousled hair to the sneakers on his feet. And all the lean muscles in between.
“A Saint Bernard.”
He grins. “Why’s that?”
I shrug. “They’re the total package. Smart, good-looking, strong, and loyal. They’re a rugged, manly dog.”
The tip of his tongue caresses the corner of his mouth and my face heats at the realization of what I just said.
“You don’t like wieners?” he says in a husky voice.
“I love wieners,” I reply in a hushed tone, barely able to speak. Barely able to stop myself from wondering what his wiener would be like inside me. His dick. Not his dog.
His eyes drop to my mouth and I turn away, toward the ocean.
“The air feels so much cleaner up here,” I babble. “Like it has magic in it.”
The warm air electrifies around me as he steps next to me. His arm brushes mine and every fine hair stands on alert.
“Do you believe in magic?” he asks, unaware of the spell he’s casting.
“Well, I do like Harry Potter.” Our eyes meet and he smiles. “God, that sounded so nerdy.”
“I like nerdy.” His smile fades. “I never asked how you’re doing.”
“How I’m doing with what?”
“With calling off the wedding. Henry. The whole thing. Your mom.”
I bite my lower lip. “I’m actually better than should be expected. Mom wasn’t happy.” I lean against the railing, mimicking Ellis’ stance. “But without a doubt, we were never meant to be together. We just didn’t...click. Ya know?”
Ellis nods. “I do.”
We stand in silence as the breeze plays in my hair, until I force myself back to business. “Speaking of I do’s, should we discuss what you want for Spanky?”
“Ah, yes,” Ellis says. “Maybe we can talk over dinner?”
I shouldn’t agree to dinner, but I do.
I don’t know what it is about this man, but there’s something there. Something drawing the two of us together.
We stay at the lighthouse for a few minutes longer before heading to a quaint cafe around the corner. We’re seated in a matter of minutes at a wrought-iron table on the patio, overlooking the ocean. The stars twinkle high in the sky as if they’re putting on a show only for us.
“May I get you a drink?” the server asks.
“What would you like, Kiki?” Ellis waits for me to answer, unlike Henry who always ordered wine for me.
It feels good to order what I really want. “I’ll just have the Guinness.”
“Good choice.” Ellis winks at me. “Make that two.”
After convincing us to order the Cajun chicken sandwiches, the server leaves and Ellis leans in closer to me. “So, tell me all about Kiki.”
I laugh a little. “What would you like to know?”
He shakes his head as if I’d even need to ask. “Everything.”
I stare into his eyes, leaning forward. “I love the beach and drinking beer.” I laugh. “I know, I’m a total Florida girl.”
He rests his elbows on the table, adopting my pose. “A total Florida babe.”
“Tell me about Ellis?”
He rubs his hand over his chin. “I’m here to help revive a family brewery, but am hoping Henry invests, and I need some kickass ideas.”
“Ahh.”
Ellis leans back in his chair, and an apologetic smile spreads over his face. “Too heavy for dinner, huh?”
I smile. “No, I guess I asked for it.” It makes me feel weird that I’m here with him and he still needs Henry to invest. But, then I remember this is a professional dinner.
The server returns with our drinks and the mood shifts from heavy to light.
“You know what you need,” I tell him before taking a sip of my Guinness. “All beers are geared toward men, think about it. Us girls like beer too. Why don’t you have something special for us? How about a cool, pink bottle of beer? Or any color?”
Ellis’ eyebrow raises as he takes a sip of his dark beer. “Actually,” he sets his glass down, “that’s a pretty genius idea.”
“I’m just saying…”
He prods me for more information about my likes and dislikes, listening as if he’s copiously taking notes in his mind. “I’ll look forward to drinking it someday,” I say with a wink. I have faith in you.”
He leans in closer, like he has a major secret to tell me. “Actually, I’ve been kind of working on something for a few months.”
I place my elbows on the table and join my hands under my chin, scooting closer. “Oh, what is it? Pink beer?”