Reed cocked his head, stroked his jaw, then nodded. “All right,” he said. “I’m yours. Take me.”
This time it was Celia who lifted an eyebrow in response to the unexpectedly sexy growl in which he’d spoken. “Er—”
“Take me to play golf,” he said, his smile wicked. “That’s what I meant, of course.”
She resisted an impulse to fan her suddenly warm cheeks with one hand. He really did have a tendency to surprise her at times, she thought.
In fact, there were moments when she wasn’t at all sure that he was quite as mild-mannered and innocuous as he’d seemed at first.
It was after eight that evening when they crossed the causeway again onto South Padre Island. Reed was behind the wheel this time, Celia having declared that she was tired of driving. As she’d expected, particularly after knowing him for a few more hours, he handled the powerful vehicle competently, confidently—and cautiously.
The same way he’d played miniature golf, she thought with a suppressed sigh. He’d slaughtered her at the game, even though he swore it had been his first time.
From beneath heavy eyelids, she studied the gleam of lights on the now blue-black waters of Laguna Madre. A mile ahead of them, the closely nestled buildings on South Padre Island gleamed brightly against the darkened Gulf horizon. “Pretty, isn’t it?” she murmured.
“In a glittery way,” he hedged. “I usually prefer a more natural landscape, myself. Moonlight on undeveloped beaches. A campfire glowing in a clearing in the middle of a forest. A fireplace burning in a cabin high up in the Rockies after a snowstorm.”
Celia lifted her head from the leather seat and stared at him. This didn’t sound like the pragmatic, history-buff accountant she’d spent the afternoon trailing at several historic sites. “Why, Reed,” she said. “You sound almost like a closet romantic.”
He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. “Nah. I just meant I usually vacation in less luxurious surroundings. Padre’s got a lot to offer, of course, which makes it so popular. Did you know there’s evidence that the Karankawa Indians wintered here more than four hundred years ago? Which means the island has always been seen as an ideal—”
Celia interrupted him with a groan. “Please. No more historical tidbits. My brain is already on overload with all these perfectly useless facts.”
“Like what?” Reed asked, smiling.
“The Port Isabel lighthouse was constructed in the 1850s and abandoned in 1905. The construction of Fort Brown in 1844—”
“Forty-six.”
“Thanks. In 1846, then, precipitated the beginning of the U.S.–Mexican War. The last land engagement of the Civil War was fought at Palmito Ranch near Brownsville, a month after Lee’s surrender. The battle was won by Confederates who didn’t know the war was already over, and afterward the victors became the captives of their former prisoners. That was sort of interesting, actually.”
“I thought so,” Reed murmured, his voice underlaced with amusement.
“I know you did. You just ate that stuff up, didn’t you? I bet you made all As in history in school.”
“Yeah, but don’t ask about my grades in composition and literature.”
“I was good at math and sciences, but history always put me to sleep.”
“Then you had the wrong teachers.”
“Maybe I did,” she agreed, smiling at him. “You made it very interesting this afternoon. Maybe you should have been a history teacher instead of a tax accountant.”
Reed’s smile seemed to fade in the shadows. Before Celia could decide why, he shrugged and said lightly, “I thought about it. Then something more interesting came up.”
Celia lifted her head again. “Tax accounting is more interesting than teaching?”
He cleared his throat. “At times. Are you hungry?”
It took her a moment to switch gears. It had been several hours since they’d indulged in the burgers and shakes. Even now, she shouldn’t be hungry—but she discovered that she was. “Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry,” she said. “It’s hard to believe after all we ate this afternoon, but I could eat again.”
“So could I. Will you join me for a late dinner in the resort restaurant?”
“I’d like that.”
“Should we change first?”
Celia hesitated, thought about how grubby and windblown she felt after a day of sightseeing in a convertible, and nodded. “I’ll make it quick. Meet you in the restaurant lobby in, say, half an hour?”