“Really?” She tried her best to keep the laughter from her voice. Tried and failed.
“An hour from now a kid could be flying a kite on this beach and stumble right into the grill. How am I supposed to keep from worrying about that?”
“So it’s not just water. Or open fires. Or sharks.”
“No.”
In the middle of an amazed laugh, Chloe caught her breath and sat up with a sudden jerk. “Wait a minute.”
Max leaned slightly away from her. “What?” he asked warily.
“How many phobias do you have?”
“I don’t have any phobias at all. I’m cautious and protective. That’s all.”
“The little boys you helped dig in the sand? Tell me that wasn’t some weird sand castle phobia!”
Max scoffed. “Of course not. I’m not a freak, Chl
oe.”
“So you just like playing with kids?”
“No, I was trying to keep those boys from killing themselves. Do you know how many kids have been suffocated by collapsing sand tunnels in the past twenty years? A kid is way more likely to be killed by a sand collapse than by a shark attack, but no one pays attention to that.”
“My God,” she whispered. “How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw it on TV somewhere. I just wanted to let them know that if you were going to dig a sand pit, the walls had to slope out from the bottom or else they’d fall down.”
“Oh, Max. Do you worry about everything?”
He shrugged again, and that was answer enough. He must be worn down. He had to be, but it was hard to see the exhaustion past the healthy glow of his tan. Maybe he was even more tired than she was.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She reached over to touch his jaw, then rubbed her thumb against the little hollow beneath his bottom lip. His eyes closed. Funny that he thought she was calm and peaceful. Everyone thought the same thing about him. And together…together it might even be true for both of them. “No, I’m not hungry,” she murmured.
His sleepy brown eyes opened, alive with interest. “No?”
She was still shaking her head when he leaned in to kiss her. And kiss her again. A moment later, Chloe heard the muffled clink of her wineglass hitting the sand at the foot of the stairs. His shirt was crumpled in her fists as she tried to pull him closer, closer.
Her life might never be peaceful again. Once she left this beach, her world might continue to swirl around the drain until she lost herself completely. But here, with Max, for a moment, all was well. She was well.
Though both her hands were wound into his shirt and Max’s fingers braced her head for his kisses, they weren’t nearly close enough. She didn’t want to know where he ended and she began. She wanted to forget there could be space between them.
Chloe stood and eased a leg over his knees, her skirt rising easily with the movement.
“Mmm,” Max murmured as his hands slid down to cup her ass. Before she could settle on his knees, he pulled her closer. Not that she objected. She wouldn’t have been bold enough to simply settle onto his lap, but if he was issuing an invitation… Chloe pressed herself against his arousal with a sigh.
“Jesus.” He sighed. “You feel amazing.”
“Maybe you’ve just been really celibate.”
“Ha. Maybe you’ve been torturing me in that red bikini.”
She arched her back and pressed into him. “Surely you’ve seen a lot of girls in bikinis.”
Max’s mouth was hot as fire when it touched her neck. Wet fire that sucked at her skin and sent rivers of desire sluicing down her body. “Are you still talking?” he muttered against her pulse.