James curses at his lack of self-control and turns to wrap his leg over Sloane’s hip, rolling her against him and making her laugh.
“It’s so wet,” she says with a quick shiver from his damp suit on her skin.
James snorts a laugh, and Sloane smacks his leg. “Not what I meant,” she says, laughing anyway.
They both chuckle for a few moments, and then they settle on the blanket. James stays wrapped around her, their faces close as they watch each other.
Sloane can’t stand to look at him sometimes, especially this close up. It seems ridiculous... but she loves him too much. She loves everything about him, and she knows he feels exactly the same way. They’re both helpless in that love. She leans in and kisses him softly.
James hums out his approval, his hand sliding up her back and under her hair, resting on her neck as his tongue glides against hers. He moves his leg to bring it between hers, and the kissing leads to more, his fingers under her swimsuit, her hand inside his.
“Car or tent?” James murmurs at Sloane’s lips. “I don’t want sand getting—”
“Car,” Sloane says, but doesn’t stop. James breaks the kiss, burying his face in her hair as she brings him close, and then, when she’s finished, he stays against her, once again helpless in his love.
“Still car?” he asks, out of breath. Sloane laughs.
“No, I’d prefer the tent,” she says. She isn’t in such a hurry to get naked, though; she just likes being near him. She almost lost him this time. She never wants to feel that again.
“Now?” James asks, getting up on one elbow, his eyes heavy lidded. He looks so sweet and happy that Sloane sits up to give him a quick kiss before tossing him the towel.
“Later,” she says, looking at the river to check the current. “And for a lot longer.”
“Don’t you worry,” he says, and smiles broadly.
“I never have to,” she replies. That certainly is never one of their problems.
“But I was thinking,” he adds, reaching to trace his finger down her back as she stares at the water. “Now that things are normal, or at least normal for now... I have ideas.”
“Yikes,” Sloane says jokingly, flashing him a smile.
“I know, right? But anyway, these ideas...” He pauses, and his expression grows serious. “They’re not in Oregon,” he finishes.
Sloane turns around on the blanket and sits cross-legged, facing him. “What are these ideas?” she asks.
“You, me, California. Some super-cute beach. Maybe formal wear.”
Sloane stares at him, heat creeping onto her chest. “Anything else I should know about this idea?” she asks.
James licks his lips, lowering his eyes like he’s self-conscious, and reaches to play with her fingers.
“Not really,” he says. “Just a couple of friends, a man of God.” He lifts his blue eyes. “A ring that’s not made of plastic.”
Sloane and James have been through so much, and Sloane always knew they’d end up here. She knew it when they first started dating years ago. She even knew it when she didn’t remember him at all. And yet... and yet... she’s not prepared for how her heart aches at this idea. How all of the misery somehow got them here, and that means she can let it go. She’s not prepared for that.
Sloane’s eyes well up, and she looks down to where James is pressing his fingers between hers, opening and closing his hand. “What if I like the plastic ring?” she asks, not meeting his gaze.
“We could upgrade to platinum,” he suggests. “One that has, I don’t know, our initials or something. Maybe some kind of rock.”
Sloane tries to bite back her smile.
“River rock?” she asks, just to mess with him.
James laughs and tugs her hand so she’ll look at him. She’s surprised to see the glassiness in his eyes, the red high on his cheeks.
“Maybe one like this?” he asks, and then leans over to grab his backpack. He pulls out a clear plastic bubble with a yellow top, the kind that comes out of a quarter machine. The same kind he’s given her before with sparkly rings in them.
She holds the plastic in her hands, and when she looks at James, he shrugs like she should open it.
