Page 33 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
“Okay. Want me to wait for you?”
“No, that’s okay. You can go down.”
Since the suit I’d worn yesterday was dirty, I’d brought a different one today. A two-piece. It was still modest by any standards, sort of a retro style with a high-waist bottom and a halter-style top that covered my chest completely. I did a quick assessment in the mirror, turning side to side. I wished I filled out my suit a little better, but I agreed with Georgia that a little sun on my face did wonders. I smoothed my ponytail, noticing the ends were pretty scraggly. I couldn’t even remember my last trip to the salon. Definitely time for a trim. Leaning closer to my reflection, I inspected a couple lines around my eyes I hadn’t noticed before and rubbed my lips together, wishing I’d brought along a lipstick.
What the hell are you doing? Why would you need lipstick at the beach?
As if I’d been caught misbehaving, I straightened up, snapped off the light, and hurried down to the beach. Why did I suddenly care about my appearance? And why did I feel guilty about it? Wouldn’t it be a positive sign if I put a little more effort into looking nice?
Not if it’s because of Wes.
Fuck. Was it? I stopped halfway down the steps. My eyes went first to Abby, who was standing ankle-deep in the water next to Dr. Parks, and then to Wes, who was dragging the canoe toward the lake’s edge. He’d taken his shirt off. My insides tightened, and I touched my stomach.
Just keep looking at him, I reminded myself. The more you do it, the less effect his appearance will have on you.
Except…I kind of liked the effect. How long had it been since I’d felt the long, slow pull of desire? Since I’d considered my body something other than a vessel for my emotions? Since I’d felt like a woman and not simply a widow?
A long fucking time.
And even though it was wrong of me to want to hold on to it for a little longer, given who was inspiring the feeling, I did. God help me, I did.
He looked up and saw me. “Hey, Abby and I were just going to go for a ride. Want to join us?” he called.
“Definitely!” I jogged the rest of the way down the steps. “Let me just get some sunscreen on.”
Dr. Parks greeted me with a wave. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Doc.”
“Mommy!” Abby came running over and threw her arms around my legs.
“Hi, baby! I missed you! Did you have a good time?” I ruffled her damp hair.
“Yes! Nana and I made pancakes, and Papa is teaching me to fish.”
“Fun!” She went back into the water, and I walked over to where Lenore was sitting under a big red umbrella. “Hi, Lenore.”
“Hello, dear.” Lenore looked at my swimsuit a little too long. “Make sure you put some sunscreen on that tummy. Are you sure you shouldn’t wear a shirt over that suit? I don’t want you to get burned.”
“I’ll be fine.” Pulling a tube of lotion from my bag, I rubbed some SPF 30 all over my face and chest.
“Only 30? Are you going to wear a hat, too? Oh, but then I guess you’ve got that olive complexion.” She clucked her tongue. “I always had to be so careful because I was so fair. Had that peaches n’ cream skin, just like Abby does. Abby,” she called out. “Come over here and let Nana put a little more sunscreen on you! I tried to get her to wear a hat today since she had so much sun yesterday, but she’s got quite a little stubborn streak, doesn’t she? Just like her daddy.”
Abby did have a stubborn streak, but I didn’t particularly feel like agreeing with Lenore on anything at the moment, so I stayed silent. Part of me wanted to put more sunscreen on Abby myself, but I let that go too, focusing instead on spraying my own arms and legs and stomach.
“Here, let me get your back.”
I turned around, and Wes was standing there. “Um. Okay.” Handing him the can, I presented my back to him, hoping my face wasn’t flushed bright red. What the hell? It’s not like he’s going to give you a massage. It’s fucking sunscreen.
Still.
Wes sprayed my upper and lower back, and I’d have sworn you could hear my skin sizzle. “Want to lift up your hair and I’ll get your neck?”
I held my ponytail on top of my head while he sprayed my neck and shoulders.
“I smell cake. Is that your hair or the sunscreen?” He laughed. “Or do I just want dessert?”
My heart was pounding. “My shampoo, maybe?”
