I stopped him with a finger to his chest. “I’m not the kind of girl to kiss before or on the first date. Not even you, Brando Fausti, because if I do, you might not want me after. Easy come. Easy go. You have to work for it.”
Too honest?I had never done this either. Except for the few times we went out in Natchitoches, I had never really dated anyone.
“What?” He sounded thunderstruck. Which was a rarity for him. “We’re not even on our first date yet. And I wanted you even more after our first time. I was fucking insane with love. Still am.”
“But you asked. Sort of.” I pushed against his chest when he tried again. “That means—whatever this is startsnow.”
“What if I promise not to tell?”
I knew where this was headed, so I turned from him, stepping onto the shore. He hissed through his teeth when I ran a finger along the inside of my bikini bottom to release its hold on myculo. “I’m not falling for that one,” I said, picking up Maggie Beautiful’s book, dusting off the sand.
“You save a girl from a shark and you’d think she’d be grateful.” He sighed, emerging from the water, soaking wet. My eyes widened in appreciation. “A kiss can’t hurt.”
His eyes met mine, and a fire sparked. It was neverjusta kiss.
“All right,” I said, licking my lips. I would’ve been a lost cause trying to “date” him back in the day. “If you can catch me before we make it to thebure, you can have me—butyou’ll still have towoome on our dates!”
“Deal,” he said, senses awake, anticipating the hunt. His eyes were relentless, his muscular body ready to spring into action.
We lifted our left fists and clinked our rings. Then I was off, sand flying from speed, but not fast enough for him, even with the sand lizard that darted out in front of him. I let out awhoop!as he swept me off my feet, then howled helplessly with laughter as the mean beast carried me off to his castle in the sand.
* * *
“How delightful!” Lola said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “And he is going towooher!” She fixed her husband with a blinking stare. “I believe you should woome too, Tito!”
“What have I been doing,la mia farfalla? Practicing?” He said this with enough passion in his voice that I had to hide my smile. It reminded me of the time when he saidravvvish.
“Well, I do not consider what we have been doing either practice or wooing,il mio amante.” She lifted a brow in suggestion.
The old doctor flushed. “Ah! I still cannot resist your charms. After all this time.” He leaned in for a kiss and she gave him a peck. “I will woo you! Come. Let us fly the sky as the birds do.” He put a hand to her lower back, about to lead her to the dock, but not before he elbowed Brando in the ribs.
Aunt Lola was plump, like a plum—the same color as her bathing suit, showcasing her beautifully tanned skin—but solid for all that. Her bottom reminded me of two perfectly shaped eggs. Uncle Tito was just as short, but the twig to her plum tree.
“Four is a fucking crowd,” Brando muttered after the doctor and his wife had strolled out of hearing distance, closer to the boat that awaited them.
“So,” I said, kicking at grass. “Parasailing for date one, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, a smile on his tan face. His teeth were bright white in the sun, making his jet hair seem even darker. He glanced at me from underneath his Ray-Bans. “Nervous, Ballerina Girl?”
I was, but I gave him my hand despite my jitters. Aunt Lola and Uncle Tito disappeared in their own boat, and after listening to the guide’s instructions, we boarded ours.
“It’s not too late to say no,” Brando said, kissing my hand.
“It’s not that—” Well, not entirely, but I refused to admit an ounce of defeat. “I—I was wondering if you did this before.”
He nodded. “When I came with Elliott.”
“Did you take—” I went to make the hand motion, the one he had made in New Orleans when I brought up the blonde in Fiji, but he forced my hands down.
“Enough,” he said, voice firm. “Your eyes are burning—jealous green.”
“I’ll never forget it.” Compelled by concentrated jealousy, I couldn’t hold my tongue.
He came in closer and put his tongue in my ear. “I’ll never forget that either.”
I went to argue, to say it wasn’t the same thing—I didn’t have sex with Nick Lomas—but the look on his face stopped me before I even got started. He was hurt. Regret hit me hard. I closed my mouth and kept my face forward.
“Say it,” he sighed.
