I watched as Andrew headed inside the yacht with my glass, thinking as he went that I was starting to love the man.
Wait, what? I wondered where that thought had come from. I was starting to like Andrew more and more, the longer we stayed with him, but I didn't know when I had jumped from “like” to “love.” The more I thought about it, though, the more it felt right to me.
It was exactly what I'd told him, once. After Emma was born, I looked for dads for her, rather than just looking for good boyfriends for myself. But Andrew wasn't just perfect with Emma; he was also a gentleman when it came to his interactions with me. And although he'd once been incredibly rude to me and so commitment shy, I started to see those things change.
He’d cut back on work and spent more time with us, and he was friendly whenever he did. He had come up with a couple ideas for our family days, even, although I had a sneaking suspicion he had probably asked Janice for recommendations on places that Emma might enjoy.
Whatever changes he made in his life, I enjoyed them. That said, I knew I had to be careful. I could sense that Andrew was still holding back, that he was still worried about committing to this. He still hadn't said that he loved me, and even though his actions hinted at that, it could also be simple affection. We had been living in his house for a while now. It was only natural that he would start to feel affection for me since Emma was our daughter. It didn't mean that he wanted to marry me.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Andrew said as he handed my newly-refilled glass back to me. He gestured around. “This day is supposed to be about relaxing and having fun.”
I laughed and rolled over on my stomach so that I could watch him better from my chair. “I am relaxing and having fun,” I promised. “Anyway, aren't you the king of over-working? I would have thought you would understand when someone was overthinking.”
“I understand it, of course,” Andrew mused. “But I don't want to see you doing it, today.” He lowered his voice, glancing around to see if there was anyone who might overhear us. “If you're having a hard time shutting off your brain, I could take you on a tour of the yacht.”
The way he emphasized the sentence left no doubt in my mind as to what that tour would entail, and I shivered despite the heat of the sun.
I smiled up at him and shook my head. “Not now,” I said. “But maybe later. I want to enjoy the sun for as long as I can.”
“You should put on some more sunscreen,” Andrew said, glancing towards the crystal-clear sky. “Want some help?”
“Sure,” I agreed, surprised that he would ask.
I sat up, and he sat on the lounge chair beside me, gathering my hair in his hands and then carefully moving it over one shoulder. His hands were warm, strong, and sure as he began to massage sunscreen into my shoulders. I made a soft noise, and he paused, hands drawing away.
“Sorry, was that too hard?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“No, it's just, I didn't realize I was going to be getting a massage out of having you apply sunscreen,” I admitted, biting my lip as my face flushed.
D
espite the smell of sunscreen lingering in the air, there was something undeniably sensual about the feeling of his fingers as they pressed into my skin, kneading out the tension that I hadn't even known was there.
“Just making sure that it's rubbed in properly,” Andrew said after a momentary pause. If I had to guess, he sounded sheepish, but I couldn't picture him being anything other than cool and confident.
He slowly resumed his ministrations, taking far longer than he actually needed to lather up my back and shoulders. The moment was broken, though, when I turned to face him, and he swiped a stripe of sunscreen down my cheek.
I giggled and reached up to rub in the mark. “Thanks,” I told him.
“Anytime,” Andrew said. He glanced over to the grill and swore, suddenly leaping to his feet and going to flip the burgers.
“Don't worry, I'll eat these ones,” he promised.
I laughed and stood up, stretching and moving over to his side to inspect the damage. They weren't too burnt, but there would be a definite charred taste to them. “Give them to Emma,” I suggested. “She'll need hers cut up anyway and doused in ketchup, so we'll just cut off the burnt parts and she'll never know the difference. She usually doesn't end up eating much of her burger anyway. She likes the bun and the chips the best. And Janice's pasta salad.”
“Good idea,” Andrew said, already starting to fix a plate for Emma.
“Emma!” I called, waving an arm as she looked back at me. She flounced back over to us, followed by Janice.
“Did you see any dolphins?” Andrew asked.
“No,” Emma said, her face falling for a second. “But I seed the water monster!”
“The water monster?” Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow at Janice, who just smiled at him.
A little while later, we were all fed, and it was starting to get dark. Andrew joined me on my lounge chair and curled into my side as we watched Emma coloring pictures and singing cute, tuneless songs about how much she loved boats and being on the water.
“This is great,” I said to Andrew.