Winnie’s expressive face hid none of her emotions, and he watched her wrestle with indecision, excitement, and finally, resolve. She dove into her project, humming under her breath as she wrote. She’d pause every so often, furrow her brow, and then scribble again.
“I’m ready,” she said finally.
He moved to her side. “Let’s see it.”
She offered him the notebook.
“‘Things I’ve never been allowed to do before,’” he read aloud, and then paused. “We’ll have to work on these headlines.”
She scooped up some sand in a threatening gesture.
“Number one: Curse aloud.” He looked up. “And here I thought ‘son of a bobcat’ was the epitome of foul curses.”
“It’s a stand-in,” she explained. “I was never allowed to curse, and I am so very weary of using my mother’s approved expressions. I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect substitute.”
“But now you want to take it even further.”
“I do. ”
She was so adorable in her insistence that he tweaked her nose. “What’s a good curse?”
She checked their surroundings before leaning in close. Still, she hesitated.
He leaned in conspiratorially. “Go on.”
“Fuck,” she blurted.
He fell onto his side in the sand, clutching his stomach as gales of laughter erupted from him. She poked him in the side until he gained control of himself and sat up.
“That was incredible.” He chuckled again. “You really went for it, didn’t you?”
Her cheeks were bright red, but she looked inordinately pleased with herself.
“That felt good,” she admitted. “Quite liberating. Now I know why men are so fond of the word.”
“I think we’re fond of more than just the word.” She cast her eyes upward, but she didn’t contradict him. “For what it’s worth, I think you already found your substitute, Bobcat.”
“Really?”
“Imagine if you’d said ‘smelly sassafras’ the first time we’d met. I might be calling you ‘smelly sassy’ to this day.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
He smirked and picked up the notebook again. “Number two: Drink a beer in a bar.” He tilted his head and considered her with pursed lips. “You strike me as a pilsner girl.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a lighter beer, refreshing and drinkable.”
“That sounds lovely.”
He snorted. “Beer and lovely don’t go in the same phrase.”
She waved a dismissive hand in the air.
“Number three: Refrain from wearing a corset.”
A delicious image of an unrestrained Winnie in her prim stenog shirtwaist, her nipples puckered shadows against the fabric, hardened his cock. Did she know what impact her words would have on him?
