Page 53 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
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Nicco
When I arrive at Destiny’s house, she’s putting a small cooler and beach bag in the back seat of her white Acura SUV.
“Good morning. Perfect timing,” she says, smiling brightly at me. I can’t see her beautiful blue eyes behind her sunglasses. “Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Good morning. I do,” I say, handing her a rolled-up wad of shorts, a T-shirt, and underwear that she puts in a separate bag. “Do you need to get anything else from inside?”
“Nope. I just need to use the bathroom and lock up. If you need to as well, I can go upstairs.”
We both go in and meet back in her foyer.
“You can leave your keys here so they don’t get lost in the sand,” she says, pointing to the seashell on the small table next to her shoe bench. “Ready?” she asks, taking a large sun hat from one of the hooks above the bench.
I drop my keys in the seashell. “Let’s go.”
As we drive, I tell her more details about my meeting yesterday and we discuss the three agencies and people I met with, as well as who I’d like to work with.
The drive isn’t long. She parks and we unload her car, I take the cooler, she puts on her hat and takes her beach bag. Finding a spot on the sand, she pulls a large blanket out of her bag and lays it down then sets her bag on a corner. She reaches in and takes out four rocks then places one on each corner of the blanket. Damn, she’s right. She’s one organized woman.
She takes a small purse out of her bag. “I’m going to go get us an umbrella and some chairs. Watch our stuff, okay?”
I take her arm in my hand. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
“This is part of my tour, right?”
“It is.”
“Then I’ll pay.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Nicco, you don’t have to pay for everything. I know I’m in a slump right now, but I’m not poor.”
There’s her feisty, independent side. So cute and so frustrating. “I know you’re not. This is part of our arrangement. You’re bringing me here because I asked you to.”
She sighs.
“Look, if we were dating, I’d let you pay for things sometimes. But, you’d never date me, would you?” I wish she didn’t have sunglasses on, hiding her expressive eyes. They usually tell me more than her words. I’m not sure she’ll answer the question.
She jolts back just the slightest bit.
“I…”
I save her the discomfort. I know the answer. “I’ll get the umbrella and chairs.”
I go to the stand where we entered the beach and pay for one umbrella and two chairs that I help the kid carry to our spot. Once the umbrella is securely in the ground, we arrange the chairs and sit down. She shows me the variety of snacks she’s packed for us, some healthy, some junk food. I love that about her, she’s very healthy, but has this little bad-girl inside when it comes to snacks.
“I brought my interview questions with me. Do you want me to ask you them now? Or do you want to wait until later?” she asks, taking a notepad and pen out of her beach bag.
“I’m not ready to go in the water yet. You can ask me some now.”
“Okay. Most of them are probably ones you typically get.”
“Then it should be easy.” I chuckle.
“And, if there’s anything you don’t want to answer, you know you don’t have to. That was our agreement.”
