Austin: For having a drink?
Me: Austin…
Austin: Live a little. Trust me.
Later that night, I leaned against the side of my Jeep, grinning at my phone as I waited for Austin to arrive.
Why was I there? I had no idea. I always thought I had a good head on my shoulders, but there was something about him that had my brain not working right. Maybe it was his haunting blue eyes or his cocky smirk that drove me mad.
“Lookin’ good, darlin’.” His sweet, barely there Southern drawl crawled across my skin, warming me.
I pushed off the Jeep, turning toward the sound of his voice. I drank him in, soaking up his handsomeness with the setting sun as the backdrop. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
His smile morphed, turning sinful. “If you weren’t looking at me like that—” he tipped his chin toward me “—I’d almost believe you didn’t find me extremely attractive.”
I chuckled. “Extremely?” I waved my hand at him, dismissing his arrogance. “You’re so full of yourself.”
He laughed as he reached into the bed of his rented pickup truck and grabbed a six-pack of beer.
“I thought…” I tilted my head, confused as I gawked at his arm muscles.
“You were worried about an audience, so I figured we could sit on the beach and share a drink in private.”
“You know I hate sand. I told you that the last time you made me go on the beach,” I reminded him. It was something people always found odd about me when they heard the revelation. I hated how the tiny grains felt and how they clung to my body like a second skin.
“This is better than the bar, though. Quieter too. I got us covered,” he said, reaching into the back with his other hand, pulling out a blanket.
“Well, didn’t you think of everything.” I smiled, unable to say no to this man. “You’re pretty slick.”
“Not slick.” He winked. “Prepared.” Austin ticked his chin toward the beach at the edge of the parking lot.
I took a step, staying back for him to walk at my side. “Sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t,” he said quickly. “I was an asshole.”
“I still should’ve minded my place.”
He stopped walking and grabbed my hand. “Your place?”
“Yeah. You know…” I shrugged and frowned.
“We’re friends, Dynasty. There’re no rules about friendship. I freaked out when I shouldn’t have.” His finger ran across the underside of my wrist. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. We weren’t entirely honest with each other about some things like rank. No matter if we’re friends or not, rank matters in the military, and so does perception.”
“Let’s sit and talk. I only have a few more days here before I have to head back to California, and I don’t want to spend the time apologizing to each other about bullshit.”
A weird wave of sadness came over me. “I don’t want to either.”
His hand didn’t leave mine as he started walking again. This didn’t feel like a friendship. I never held hands with Blondie. Never. But I wasn’t about to pull away.
As soon as my sandals hit the sand, my feet sank and the tiny granules slid between my toes. “How far are we walking?” I asked, sounding whiny and like a complete girl.
“Just a little farther.” Austin pointed toward the wet sand around twenty feet ahead. “I like listening to the waves. It’s calming, and I always sleep better.”
“Whatever you want.”
He gazed at me, one eyebrow up. “Whatever?”
