by Cecy Robson
He pulls out a stool for me before taking a seat and reaching for his beer. I cross my legs. “I’ll have you know there are a lot of great things about New Jersey.”
He drums on the bottle, but doesn’t quite take a sip. “Name one.”
“We have the shore,” I point out.
He makes a face. “Yeah, I’ve seen the show.”
I laugh. “Not that shore, the rest of it. The whole Jenkin’s boardwalk is pretty and fun, a great place to be a teen and hang out. Oh, and Sea Girt, Bay Head, and Stone Harbor are pieces of paradise you never want to leave.”
He tilts his head toward the wall of sliding glass doors. “I don’t know there, Luci, I can’t imagine anyplace better than Kiawah.”
I grin. I can sense how much he means what he says. “Have you always lived here?’
“Born and raised and hope to die here,” he says. He takes a swig. “No place like home.”
“If you’ve always lived here, how do you know there aren’t better places?”
His grin takes him from a man jaded by the world, to one still hoping the world might be better than it is. “I’ve been everywhere,” he replies. “That’s how I know this is where I’ll spend the remainder of my days.”
“Tell me where you’ve been.”
He frowns, as if he doesn’t really believe I want to know.
“Come on,” I say, motioning with my hands. “Wow me.”
“Wow you?” He rubs his beard. “I don’t know, that’s a lot a pressure to put on a man, but I’ll give it my best seeing how you were nice enough to help out my sister.”
I expect to hear Switzerland and France based on the atmosphere. I don’t expect all the places he rattles off. “Vietnam, Bosnia, Thailand, Israel, Egypt, and about every country in South America with the exception of Cuba because we weren’t sure we’d get out.”
“Not Europe?” I ask.
“I’ve been there, too,” he says. “France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria, Hungry, Sweden, and all of the U.K.”
“But also the other places you’ve mentioned?” He nods. “Why?”
“My parents volunteered all over the world and thought me and my sister should volunteer with them.” His focus flickers over my face as if trying to gauge my reaction. “They wanted us to see and know life outside of Kiawah.”
“To show you the imperfections outside your perfect world?” I ask quietly.
He pauses with the tip of his beer at his lips. “Something like that.”
In the time that follows, only silence comes, and a lot of him eyeing me when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention. I’m not a person who’s uncomfortable with silence. I prefer it to the noise people make when they speak words that say nothing and mean even less.
Perhaps Landon feels the same.
My focus wanders back to Blythe who is closing in on a different player. I almost think I should take her aside and tell her not to try so hard, that it’s not so bad to be alone. But I’m no longer positive that’s true.
Being next to Landon is nice, even though he’s not saying a word.
“You have something on your collar.”
At least he wasn’t.
I turn to find him pointing at my neck. “There, right there,” he says.
I know he’s messing with me. I don’t bother to look or remind him my dress is strapless. “Are you trying to tweak my nose?”
“Yes.” He shrugs when I laugh. “It always works on my nephew.”
“I’m not your nephew.”
The corner of his mouth curves in a way that should be illegal. “Oh, I know that.”
His face reddens slightly, the color probably matching mine. “Are you trying to flirt with me?” I’m not typically so bold, but he’s charming, regardless of the hesitation I sense.
He hangs on to his lopsided smile. “Yes.”
“Oh.” I reply so quietly, I’m not certain he hears me.
He leans in, careful to keep a respectable distance, but close enough that I can smell his cologne. It’s fresh, lightly sweet, but absurdly clean and masculine. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s been a long time since I flirted with a pretty lady. Toddler humor is the best I have.”
“It can’t be so bad if it makes me smile.” I point to my mouth. “See?”
This time when he grins, the sadness and resentment I first noticed dissolve into the pool of his dark eyes, leaving an attraction he couldn’t mask in his silence and one that draws me further in.
“You didn’t like that idiot hitting on you in the kitchen, did you?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Well, Miss Luci, I didn’t much care for all those women Becca tried to pawn me off on, including your friend. What’s say you and me make a deal?”
I don’t know what he’s offering, that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to say yes. “What kind of deal?”
“I’ll keep the idiots off you.” He points in the direction of the couch where a few men gathered a collective frown, muttering low and turning away in a huff. “And you keep the women trying to make me their sixty-nine far away from me.”
I didn’t realize anyone else had noticed me, but Landon did. Just as I noticed more than one gorgeous woman in an all-too gorgeous gown, cast a smile his way. I offer a hand. “Deal.”
He shakes it, smiling. “How about some romance?”
He chuckles when my jaw falls open and points to the purple drink the bartender is mixing. “That’s the name of the drink.” He holds out his hands. “But if you don’t like romance . . .”
I gnaw at my bottom lip. “How about a shot of courage instead?” I turn to the bartender. “May I please have two shots of Tequila? One for me.” I glance over my shoulder at Landon. “And one for my bodyguard.”
~ * ~
I bat my hand as the shot burns its way down my throat. “Take a lime. Here, here,” Landon says passing it to me.
I pull it off one of those mini-plastic swords and suck hard. “Oh, that’s strong.”
He coughs into the back of his hand, laughing. “This was your idea.” His tongue flicks across his lips, gathering the drops of Tequila that dripped out when we tossed back the shots and he caught the look on my face. “What do you think, one more?”
“Okay,” I say, which only makes him and me laugh harder.
“Two more, please,” he tells the bartender. He pulls out his wallet and drops what looks like a Benjamin into the tip jar. “Want a Corona to go with the shot?”
“Sure.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yes,” I assure him. “And a bottle of water please.”
“Good call,” he agrees.
The bartender nods in his direction, affirming she heard us, despite the horde of drinks she seems to be working on, and the man she can’t seem to stop flirting with.
“All right, my turn to ask the question,” he says. “What’s the worst date you ever had?”
I blow out a sigh. We started out simple enough, favorite foods, mine, sushi, his Thai. Favorite music, both of us fist bumped when we agreed on classic rock. Landon is a die-hard Springsteen fan, but he gave me props for my love of the Eagles. Now, we’re getting personal. I don’t mind. Maybe this is better.
I re-cross my legs and fan the skirt around me. “All right, here’s a good one. I’m sixteen and all beside myself because this cute guy from my science class wants to take me out for a slice.”
“A slice?”
“Yes,” I reply, wondering why he appears so perplexed. “A whole pie would have been too much.”
“He took you to eat pie?” he asks, slowly.
“No, pizza,” I clarify. “We call pizzas ‘pies’ up north.”
He cocks a brow. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Did I confuse the good ol’ Southern boy?”
He grins. “So now I’m a good ol’ Southern boy?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, patting his hand. “We all
can’t be from Jersey.”
“Well thank Christ for that,” he says.
I giggle at his remark, exactly as he intends. “Okay,” I continue. “So I was stressed about what to wear since I didn’t have a lot. I begged my cousin to lend me something. She gave me this pretty dress with flowers on it that I absolutely loved. I was giddy, and excited, and for once in my teenage life, actually confident. I walked into the pizzeria with my head up, smiling when I saw him and absolutely beaming when I sat down across from him.” I make a face. “That was the highlight of the story. From there, everything pretty much goes to hell.”
He cracks open the bottles of water and passes me one. “Why?”
“Turns out the cousin who lent me the dress, was the girl he actually wanted to date.”
“Ouch,” Landon responds. “How did the pie lovin’ Romeo screw that up?”
“My cousin and I were at the mall when he and his friend saw us. He told his friend my cousin was hot, and his friend falsely assumed he was referring to me.”
Landon lowers his bottle. “Oh.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say. I swallow a few gulps of water and some of the pride I lost that day. “The best part is, guess who were assigned as lab partners the following week?”
“Shit,” he says. He tosses back his water, putting down the half-empty bottle on the counter a few seconds later. “Want my take on this?”
I play with the cocktail napkin in my grasp, trying to appear casual even though I’m worried about what he’ll say. “I’m all ears.”
He holds out a fist and counts off his fingers. “One, he’s a dumbass. Two, he’s a rude dumbass.” He works his jaw, as if he doesn’t want to admit the rest. “Three, his friend was right in thinking you were the hot one.”
I cover my mouth, trying to hide my surprise and delight. “You don’t even know what my cousin looks like.”
His gaze locks on mine, the intensity and heat behind it causing my hand to drop away. “I don’t have to,” he says, adding a wink.
The deep thrum of his voice and the oh-too sizzling way he looks at me makes me fall eerily still. For a moment, I don’t even breathe, waiting for him to turn away or take it back. Instead he keeps his eyes on mine, assuring me he means what he says.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“My pleasure,” he replies.
The insecurities that I walked in with tumble to my feet, fading away and leaving only Landon behind. The quiet that first greeted us when we sat down returns, but instead of finding someplace else to look rather than forcing ourselves to speak, our full attention remains on each other.
Landon is ridiculously good-looking, not in a way most would immediately notice, but in a way no one could ever forget. I should be embarrassed by the way my smile widens the longer I stare, and maybe I would be if he wasn’t doing the same.
In his eyes, I see the woman in me who remains, the one who’s young and whose future is yet to be determined rather than the woman who buries herself in work and stows her fears away.
The shots appear, as well as the beers. He motions to the bar with a tilt of his head. “You still feel up to it?”
This will be my second shot and my first beer. I’m feeling the effects of the first for certain, but I’m feeling the effects of Landon more. He wants to make sure I’m okay, adding more sexy points to the ones spilling across his broad shoulders. “I’m ready if you are.”
“Well, then, far be it for me to tell a lady no.”
I lower my gaze and I give the back of my hand a flick of my tongue, pausing when I meet Landon’s gleaming stare. I think he’s going to say something, instead his tongue passes over his skin in a swirl, the motion widening my eyes.
Good. Lord.
He cocks his head. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I say, or rather, whimper.
He chuckles and lifts the bottle of salt, sprinkling the crystals onto my lick spot and his. “Bottoms up?”
I clink my glass to his. “Salud.”
We taste the salt, slam back the shot, and suck on the lime. My face scrunches as that familiar burn rips a line of fire down to my stomach. Landon cracks up, reaching for his phone and snapping a pic.
I dab my mouth with a fresh cocktail napkin. “What are you doing?” I ask.
He taps away on his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just setting up my new wallpaper.”
I gasp. “Don’t you dare! I look awful.”
“No, sweetheart. You look fucking adorable.”
I wince. “I doubt it.” I pass my fingertips over my throat. “I seriously think this last shot put hair on my chest.” I tilt up my chin, exposing my throat. “Are there any hairs growing? A real friend would tell me.”
I lower my head when he doesn’t answer, my lips parting when I see the way he’s watching me. A sense of desire I’m not familiar with reflects in his gaze. I only recognize it because it mimics the sparks firing within me.
“You don’t have any hairs,” he manages.
“Good,” I stammer. The timer goes off in the oven, saving me by the bell, although I’m not certain I want to be saved.
He clasps my hand when I slide off the stool. It’s not hard, just enough to keep me in place. “Where are you going?”
“I have to check on the crab cakes your sister made.”
He starts to rise. “I’ll help you.”
I place my hand over his chest. Although my touch is gentle, this time I’m the one keeping him from moving. “No, I’ll take care of it. Will you . . . will you save my seat?”
He turns my hand, curling it in his and lifting it to his lips to kiss. “Darlin’, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
It takes some effort to step away, my chest hurting from how hard I’m gushing. When I finally do, I work quickly to fill the serving plate Landon’s sister left. “Ma’am, would you like these at the buffet?”
I look at the server, a young man likely in his teens. “Yes, please. But if you’re able to, would you save some for the hostess? It’s my understanding they’re her favorite.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll set some aside.”
“Thank you.” I finish placing the lemon wedges when Blythe appears.
“Hi,” I say.
“Can I talk to you?” she asks.
Blythe doesn’t return my smile and appears upset. I glance back to Landon where he’s finishing off his water. “Ah, sure.”
She leads me into a small hallway. A door to a bathroom opens beside us and a young woman steps out, hurrying into a billiards room just past a large dining area.
“You look like you’re having a good time,” Blythe says.
Her tone seems off, and at first, I think she’s angry that I’m spending time with Landon. “I’m sorry, we started talking and—”
“I met someone,” she interrupts. She gives a small laugh. “Okay, that’s not entirely true. I met him before, but now we’re actually talking.”
“That’s good,” I say, wondering where this is heading.
She passes me her glass of wine, taking a moment to adjust her breasts beneath her gown. “The thing is, he’s here with other people. It’s complicated and, well, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if he and I went back to our hotel room.”
“Wait, where am I going to stay?” Because I’m certainly not staying with them.
“There’s the pull-out couch,” she reminds me, referencing the suite she booked. “But I realize that may be awkward.”
“You think?” I ask.
“Luci, please don’t be mad.”
“Blythe, you invited me. I was perfectly happy staying home.”
“If you’d stayed home, you wouldn’t be warming up to the man I was supposed to hang out with,” she counters.
“You mean you and the entire cheer squad,” I point out. She presses her lips into a firm line appearing insulted. I continue, “Don’t blame me for something you think I did to y
ou. Not when you walked away from Landon and on to the next man who caught your interest.”
I’m not certain what she’s more bothered by, that she wasn’t the only one Becca had planned to introduce Landon to, or that I was the one he chose to speak to.
She glances toward the end of the hall, where a man and woman are speaking quietly. “Look, I’m sorry,” she says. “And I feel terrible about putting you on the spot. I spoke with Becca, she has a ton of space and offered one of her bedrooms to you. It’s upstairs, the one at the end with the dark blue linens. It’s private, you’ll have the whole suite to yourself. There’re toiletries and everything you might need.”
I shake my head. Blythe is many things, animated, beautiful, and athletic, but not much more. I should have known she’d do this.
“It’s safe here, Luci. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t leave you.”
She’s already made her decision. There’s no sense in arguing. “Fine,” I say, even though it’s not.
“I’ll be back for you tomorrow afternoon,” she adds. She knows I’m angry. Yet it’s not enough to keep her from doing what she wants. “Becca says to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
“You’re leaving, now?” I ask.
Guilt and maybe something else passes along her features. “He’s ready to.”
“Then I suppose you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“Luci,” she says.
I step away and into the bathroom, shutting the door a little too harshly. I wash my hands. As I dry them, I catch my reflection in the mirror.
The small amount of makeup I applied remains in place and my hair is still behaving. I’m dressed for a party and a fun time. As I think of Landon, I’m reminded that’s where I am and what I’m having.
Blythe won’t ruin my night, not when it’s gone so well without her.
The smile that faded in her presence returns when I think about who’s waiting for me. I ease out of the bathroom and return to the kitchen, but Landon is gone. So is my purse and . . .
My heart falls to my belly, only for it to quicken when a hand presses gingerly against the small of my back.
“Are you hungry?” Landon asks. He motions to the corner where a set of heavy curtains sway in the breeze. “I figured with all that we’re drinking, we should get something to eat.”
