Page 9 of Say When
I squeeze her hand once, then let go so I can lean forward on my elbows. “There’s a bonfire party down at the south end of the beach tonight. Locals mostly. Good music, cold drinks, firelight. Nothing fancy. Would you like to come with me?”
Her brows lift. “A party?”
“Not a wild, drunken night of debauchery, if that’s what you’re thinking. More like sitting on blankets, listening to someone strum a guitar, watching sparks drift up into the stars. Casual. Easy.”
She bites her lip, considering. “I haven’t been to a party in forever, unless you count the fireworks the other night.”
“Then it’s time.” I keep my voice steady, giving her the out if she needs it. “We can go for an hour, or we can stay until the fire dies down. Your call. But first,” I pause, letting a slow smile spread. “How about we take a walk at sunset? Just you and me. No crowd. No expectations. We walk, we talk, we see where the night takes us. Then, if you’re still feeling it, we head to the party together.”
She searches my face, eyes soft and uncertain and hopeful all at once. “You really want me there? With your friends?”
“I want you wherever I am.” The truth slips out, simple and bare. “But only if you want to be there too.”
She exhales, a shaky little sound. “I do. I want that.”
Relief floods through me, warm and bright. “Then it’s settled. Sunset walk with the party after. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Wear something you don’t mind getting sandy.”
A real smile breaks out on her face. “I think I can manage that.”
I push off the counter and step around the island until I’m standing between her knees. She tilts her head back to look up at me. I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, thumb lingering against her skin.
“You look beautiful first thing in the morning,” I murmur.
Her cheeks flush. “I look like I just rolled out of bed.”
“Exactly.”
She laughs softly, the sound vibrating between us. I lean down, press a slow kiss to her lips, nothing demanding, just a promise. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, lips parted.
“Six-thirty,” I say again, voice rougher now.
She nods. “I’ll be ready.”
I force myself to step away before I do something stupid. “Finish your coffee. Text me if you need anything before tonight.”
“I will.”
I head for the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. “Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiles again, softer this time. “Me too.”
I step outside, the screen door creaking shut behind me. The morning air feels sharper, the sun brighter, everything edged with anticipation.
Six-thirty can’t come fast enough.
The rest of the day drags by slowly. I spend the day stocking shelves, helping tourists find the perfect boogie board, and answering the same questions I’ve answered a thousand times.
By six, I’m back at my place, showered, wearing clean jeans and a navy t-shirt. I grab a light jacket for her in case the wind picks up and drive to the cottage.
She steps out onto the porch right on time, wearing a soft white sweater over a sundress, hair loose and wavy. She looks like summer itself. She’s impossible to look away from.
I meet her at the bottom of the steps. “You look gorgeous.”
She slips her hand into mine without hesitation. “Thank you, Jake.”
