“If you say so,” I say, my tone sayingyou’re full of it.
He dips his face. “Hurts a little,” he admits, as if it costs him something.
“Let me take another look, okay?”
“Sure,” he says, easily agreeing.
I kneel and move closer to him so I can run my fingers gently over his skull. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, but your head has got a funny shape,” I whisper.
“Gee, thanks,” he says, laughing as the sun ducks behind a stray cloud. “Really appreciate the compliment.”
“I’m sorry,” I deadpan as I run my palm up and down the back of his head. “You’re probably used to women complimenting the shape of your skull.Oh, it’s so round, Andrew,” I coo.
Amused, he shakes his head. “Known you for tenminutes and I’ve already figured out you like giving me a hard time.”
“Took you that long?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Two minutes. The drone comment did it.”
“Hmm. I’m pretty sure that was one minute into our fantastic new friendship,” I say as the sun re-emerges from a cloud, warming my shoulders again. That feels fitting for this day—let the damn sun shine now. “But considering yourhardshipcomment, I think you like it.”
“I do like it,” he admits, no sarcasm from him either this time.
When I drop my hand, I drop the games. “You do have a goose egg. You need to get some ice on it.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, it’s a big one,” I say before it’s too late.
He snickers. “That innuendo is on you. And you know what?”
“What?”
“You need to join me as I ice my head over there.” He points to a bar on the corner of the boardwalk. It’s tucked off to the side, and umbrellas offer privacy from passers-by and even from people in apartments nearby with views of the beach. He raises an eyebrow, and the invitation in his hazel eyes makes my stomach flip.
I try my best to fight off a grin. Really, I do.
But I fail, and I love failing, because it means this unexpectedly delightful moment isn’t ending.
I rise, quickly tuck my Bandits towel in my mesh bag, and then tug on a purple tank top dress.
He whimpers. “I was enjoying the view,” he says, as he stands.
The zip returns, speeding through me, settling between my legs. “Don’t stop, then,” I say.
“I won’t,” he says.
When I left my home this morning, I just wanted to forget the week from hell. Now, I’m on an impromptu date with a guy on the beach, and bad luck is the furthest thing from my mind.
Maybe things are starting to turn around.
Who needs sunshine and a book? Looks like my fantasies are about to become reality.
2
DON’T PUT THE PARROT BEFORE THE UNICYCLE
Drew