But she didn’t slam the door.
“So, I’ll be on the beach,” he said, gesturing to the narrow pathway that led between her rental and the next house, toward the dunes. “Join me when you do get hungry.” He winked. “Whatever that hunger might be for.”
It took everything in him to walk away from that front door. His arms ached to hold her, his cock longed to find out what it would be like to be buried deep, and crazily … he just wanted her company. To see her smile, watch her speak, hear what her hopes and dreams were. Discover the cause of that little sad flash in her eyes.
The door slammed.
He walked alongside the house, past an ants’ nest and a yellow flowering bush covered in orange butterflies. Once past the dunes, he picked a spot he knew she’d be able to see from her deck and he sat facing the sea.
He removed his boots and t-shirt then stared at the waves. They’d be good ones to catch if he’d had his board.
His appetite had diminished somewhat. He’d been expecting a warmer reception from Leah, or at least not one quite so arctic. But even so, he laid out the small blanket he’d swiped from home and set out fried chicken, bread, cheese, cold cuts, and watermelon. He was going to be here for a while—as long as it took to win her over.
After ten minutes or so, he nibbled on some chicken. The long narrow beach was practically deserted. A few surfers caught waves to his right, but they were in the distance.
“Want a beer?”
He looked up, squinting in the sun.
Leah stood there, still wearing that sinfully small white dress and holding two damp bottles of Bud.
He grinned. “Sure.”
She passed him one. It was cold on his palm.
“Sit.” He gestured to the patch of sand next to him. “You want my t-shirt?”
“No, I’m good.” She sat at his side, her legs folded to the right and her shades covering her eyes.
“Thanks.” He held up the bottle and took a drink.
She didn’t say anything.
“I’ll put the plug back into the VW.”
“I know you will.”
He held in a smile. She wasn’t going to let him get away with that. But it was okay. It meant she was planning on letting him take her back to Pierce. Or at least he hoped so, but he wouldn’t push his luck by getting her to agree to it just yet.
“The watermelon is good.” He nodded at it. “Try it.”
She took some.
Carter had to stop himself staring as she ate it. Her mouth was so sensual, so pretty, and conjured a million things he’d like to do with it, starting with kissing.
“It is nice.” She slurped softly then wiped her mouth with her fingertips.
“How is the rental?” he asked.
“Nice. Clean and quiet. Means I can get on with some work.”
“It really is a working holiday? I thought that was just an excuse not to sit on the beach with me.”
“I have a few files to go over, nothing taxing, I just need to get my head around the cases.”
“What kind of cases?” He helped himself to a slice of juicy watermelon.
She hesitated, then, “I’m a representative in criminal cases, so I’m not at liberty to discuss them.”