After hopping out of the truck, Tyler comes around and helps me out.
Once my feet are firmly on the ground, he says, “Stay here.”
Going around the back of the truck, he opens the cab cover and pulls out a large blue and white rolling cooler. When he makes his way back to me, he holds his hand out. Sliding my hand into his, I shiver. What happens inside my body when this man touches me even in the simplest of ways is just… more. A lot more.
“Whose dock is this?” I ask as we step onto the wood planks.
“It’s mine.”
I stop walking. “Wait, what?”
“I mentioned before that I bought a piece of land to build a bigger house. Well, this is that land. Since I already have the cottage, I’ve got plenty of time to build the permanent house, so I decided to do the dock first. It was finished about five weeks ago, and since then, I’ve been coming out here a lot. Can’t beat the peace and quiet.”
I look back over my shoulder at the land. In the distance, I notice there are stakes with bright blue tips marking the property line. “This is what, four acres?” I ask as I turn back to him.
“Four and a quarter. When I said I didn’t love city living, I wasn’t kidding. This right here is the dream. It’ll probably take me two or three years to get it all to come together—I’m six months out from meeting with an architect to talk about the style and size of the house I need—but once it’s done, this will be it for me. A little slice of heaven right on the water. Doesn’t get any better.”
“I’m so glad you love it here,” I tell him as we start walking again.
“Best decision I ever made was taking the job and moving here.”
At the end of the dock, Tyler opens the door to the screened in seating area. In here, the scent of the fresh lumber and sealer is more pronounced. There’s a four-seat table in the center of the room, built-in seats in two of the corners, and an outdoor sofa that faces the water. He guides me to the table then pulls out a chair for me and waits until I’m seated before he begins unpacking the cooler.
There are ham and cheddar sandwiches, two big deli pickles, containers of macaroni and potato salad, potato chips, two bottles of water, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of chocolate milk, which he slides toward me. Finally, he sets two sleeves of plastic utensils and two paper plates on the table.
“It’s nothing fancy, but the view is amazing,” he says as he pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.
“It’s perfect,” I assure him, and I mean it. He didn’t just bring dinner; he brought chocolate milk. The way he treats me is unexpected, because I’ve never had a man do anything like this for me before. Not even close. I had a boyfriend in high school whose idea of date night was taking a six-pack of cheap beer up to the top of Dirt Dixie, a canyon road in the valley. Inevitably, the night would end with some uninspiring sex in the back of his SUV. It would conclude with him smoking a cigarette while I straightened my clothes and wondered if romance still existed. My grandparents had still been alive at the time, and I’d seen the way their relationship worked and the time they both put into it, but aside from them, the only couples I knew were all living in the Cove. Divorce in LA was so common it almost seemed like it was a rite of passage.
“If you think it’s perfect now, wait until you take a bite,” Tyler says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I went to Smith and Sons Deli over on the bougie side of town. Hands down the best sandwiches on the Cove.”
Excited, I clap my hands. “Ooh! I’ve been wanting to try them. Jana claims their salads are better than sex.”
Tyler’s bark of laughter makes me realize what I’ve just said. Embarrassed, I bite my lip and get real busy opening my sandwich.
“Hey.”
I school my expression before I look up. Hopefully now I look like a normal, non-idiotic person who didn’t just put her foot in her mouth on date one.
“Until last night, I’d have agreed with Jana,” he says. “Haven’t even been inside you yet, but I already know that as good as this food is, it’s garbage in comparison. Just kissing you got me so hard I had trouble walking out of your house.”
I can’t hold in my laughter. “So you’re saying that walking with a hard-on is hard.”
When Tyler grins, the hazel flecks in his eyes always seem more pronounced. “It definitely isn’t easy,” he answers.