Blayze tilted his head, wondering if it’d be worth the trouble.
“Oh, come on. You can’t take a walk on the beach in those shoes.” She took the short stairwell to the sand, sunk her bare feet in, allowing the quick-shifting grains to rush over the top, covering them completely.
“Here,” she encouraged, patting the stair. “You sit. I’ll do the honors.”
Blayze shook his head as he lowered himself onto the stair. “The honors of removing someone’s socks and shoes?”
She hunched down and reached for his shoe, and quickly untied the laces before prying it off. She set it beside her flip-flops and repeated the action with the next. Then, with the mischievous lift of one brow, she slipped her finger beneath the hem of his sock and looked up at him.
“Da-na-na-na-na…”she crooned, mimicking the strip song people always used in teasing.
Blayze couldn’t hold back the laughter as she tore off the sock with a flourish and tossed it over her shoulder. She started the tune back up again.
“I feel like if you’re going to be humming that song, we should be taking off something besides socks.”
Sophia tipped her head back and laughed. “We’ll savethatfor the honeymoon.” She flung the other sock over her shoulder next. “There. Come sink your toes into the sand.”
Blayze took her silky hand, stepped down the wooden, patio steps until the silky-smooth sand met his feet.
“How does it feel?” Sophia asked, her eyes wide and expectant.
He resisted the urge to saysame as yesterdayand grinned. Instead, he took a moment to detect the tiny grains slipping between his toes. The change in temperature as he sunk lower into the cool depths. “Nice,” he said. “Very nice, actually.”
“Good.”
A soft breeze picked up as they walked along the beach. Sophia nuzzled her head against his arm. “I think my father’s going to ask Isabella to marry him soon,” she said.
“What makes you think that?” Blayze asked.
She shrugged. “He’s finally cleaning out mymadre’sold office.”
“Oh yeah? What do you think he wants to do with it?”
“My hunch is that he plans to turn it into a yoga studio for Isabella. He was asking me about tranquil paint colors and houseplants. Made me picture the studio Isabella uses at her apartment.”
Blayze considered that, recalling the day he asked Nicolas for Sophia’s hand in marriage. The man had wiped tears from his face, blaming allergies for the sudden moisture in his eyes, and responded with an exuberant, “Sí, hijo mío.Yes, my boy. Yes, indeed.”
Blayze liked knowing the District Attorney might be ready to pop that question as well, pursuing happiness in love once more.
“So,” Sophia said, “Jazmin texted and said Reggie’s feeling better so they can come to tomorrow’s party after all. Your father will be there with Barbara, of course. Roman and Tiff are coming. And Chanze…”
“Chanze’s bringing his new girlfriend,” Blayze said.
“That’s right.” Sophia nodded. “Her name’s Carly.”
Blayze straightened up. “Wait, you know her name already?”
“Of course. I want to make sure she feels welcome in my father’s home. This is going to be a wonderful celebration. Fireworks, music, good food.”
That did sound nice. “Good company,” he added, nudging her with his hip.
“That too.” She slowed then, urging Blayze to step closer to the shore. “I wish I’d brought my swimsuit today. Don’t you?”
“Not really,” he said wryly.
Sophia stepped into the sea foam in time for another wave to come in. It covered her feet, burying them up to her ankles. “You’re no fun.” She hunched down, cupped water in her hands and gave him a good splash.
Blayze bent down to roll up his jeans, the lull of the whoosh growing louder. He straightened up.I’mno fun?” he said, glad they’d set their phones in the windowsill at the house. “You’rethe one who wants to wait for a swimsuit to get in.”
