Running down the perfectly soft grass, I hit the sand, fast and hard. I only have twenty feet to cross before the water and lagoon.
Running in fast, I dive straight under the water. I come up spinning, and I laugh and feel wild. He is seconds behind me, and as he dives in, he grabs me.
We go over, and we wrestle in the water.
We finally come up, laughing and coughing, and we stand cool, cleansed, and laughing loudly.
Catching our breath, we do three-sixties, taking it all in. We are still holding each other, and we are still gasping and laughing.
I like having him play fight with me, and my body likes his hard body against me, too.
I cross an arm over my hard nipples, but it is pointless and kind of weird. Harry drapes a friendly arm over me, and we turn to face each other. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say, inhaling.
I try not to place my hands around his neck, where they belong.
I just rest them on his hips, like he does on mine.
“Well, how are we doing?” I ask, wondering if we will kiss.
Harry checks the sun on the horizon and then his ancient Rolex. “Not bad. We’ve actually done really well.”
“I know,” I say, amazed. “And so much for it feeling like a chore. It was just like getting to know each other. Like having three speed dates.”
“True,” Harry says. “There are probably just a few other things we need to discuss.”
“Right,” I say, agreeing.
We head back up the lawn, and I get the sunglasses I tossed while running. As we reach the top lawn and house area, Harry asks, “So, do you want kids?”
“What, now?” I ask loudly.
I quickly realize it was part of the Q and A, and I calm.
I look over at Harry, who is now raising a cheeky brow.
“Hang on a minute,” I say, my eyes squinting. “Is this some elaborate trick to ask me to have kids? And have them this afternoon?”
We both laugh, lying back on the recliners.
“You know, I have a weird feeling kids take nine months or so,” Harry says.
“And it’s best to have them when you’re in love,” I say before realizing I’ve said it.
“There is that,” Harry says huskily.
“And married,” I toss in.
“Likely.”
We exchange a loaded glance, and my heart is fluttering. “Yeah, maybe we should discuss that,” I say with a sigh. “Okay, so when are we getting married?” I ask, only looking at him at the end of the question.
Harry looks uneasy and he rubs his wet neck. “Look, I’m not the best at this kind of thing.”
“Care to share?” I ask.
“No, yes.”
