I look up at Nash in confusion, and he just grins at me, those fucking sunglasses making my knees weak.
The reason for twins’ presence becomes clear the moment we head down onto the sand, and I am led to a small cove that has been fenced in with windbreaks. This section of the beachis quiet, anyway, with it literally being just a beach, not a town or destination, but the makeshift fence does add more privacy. Once we pass through the section left open, and Nash closes it, I turn and can’t believe my eyes.
Dotted around the sand in hurricane lanterns are what seem like hundreds of candles, all lit and emitting a soft glow. It’s not dark yet, but when the sun goes down, it’s going to be stunning. There’s a portable campfire in the middle of a small circle of beach pebbles, and beyond that, a large picnic blanket is weighed down with more stones, and the most beautiful canvas bell tent, with bunting hung over the entrance that is currently folded back to one side, showing a bed inside comprised of thick blankets and pillows, and what I assume is a sleep mat underneath it all.
I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands, and Nash wraps his strong arms around me from behind, pulling him into me.
“Is this OK?” he asks. I don’t respond, just turn in the circle of his arms, clasp his face with my hands, and pull him down for a kiss. When we separate, he replies, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He leads me to the blanket and guides me to sit while he grabs a picnic basket from the tent. When he opens it, I see a selectionof sandwiches, cakes, and chocolate truffles, all from Poppy’s Café, so I know they’ll be delicious. Tucked into the corner is a bottle of chilled champagne, and Nash, sitting next to me now, makes quick work of popping the cork and pouring us each a glass.
“To us,” he says, handing me my glass and raising a toast.
“To us,” I echo, and we clink our plastic glasses together with an unsatisfying dull tap.
I take a sip, then release a deep breath.
What a perfect idea for a first date.
We eat and watch the waves ebb and flow, the marsh warblers chirping song the only soundtrack beside the sea.
We kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, and then he asks me a question I’m ready to answer for the first time since I lost my grandmother.
“So, baby, have you had any more thought about what you want to do for work? I know you mentioned going back to uni at some point…”
Since I moved back to Fenside Common, I’ve picked up a few shifts back at the pub, although not too many since Chris had already filled my vacancy. I’ve also been working a fewshifts in the café, but mainly I’ve been painting and have actually sold a few pieces through my Etsy shop.
“I know exactly what I want to do, actually.” I take a sip of my champagne to hide my smile. I know he’ll question me again in three… two… one…
“And what’s that?” I grin at him, then turn to face him.
“I want to go back to uni to study for a postgrad in Creative Arts Psychotherapy and then look at becoming an art therapist.”
I hold his gaze, knowing he understands all the facets of this decision. The fact that I want to work with children again, but I’m not sure formal education is where I’m supposed to be anymore. The fact that I saw just how incredibly transformative Nancy’s art therapy was for her in transition into her new life, and the fact that it will be a way for me to channel my art into something that helps people.
A slow smile covers his face, and he grabs my chin, pulling me in for a kiss. It’s a kiss that says, “I’m proud of you.” It’s a kiss that says, “I’m excited for you.” It’s a kiss that says, “I love you,” and I kiss him back the same.
A while later, when the sun has set, but the light hasn’t faded, we retreat to our tent, Nash carefully extinguishing all the candles and the firepit. We undress in silence, the sound of the waves beyond the canvas our private orchestra for tonight.
When we climb beneath the blankets, Nash pulls me to him immediately and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. It goes from sweet and sexy to incendiary in an instant, our tongues writhing with each other as our bodies entwine.
I can feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, and his big hand curls around my arse cheek. He kisses down my throat, pushing me slightly so I’m lying on my back, as he trails kisses down the length of my body.
He nips and licks around my belly button and then down to my cock. He licks a wide, wet stripe up the underside, then takes the head into his mouth. He sucks and pulls on just the tip until I’m thrusting up into his wet mouth, desperate for more.
He obliges and takes me in all the way. His nose presses into my groin, and he swallows around my cock.
“Fuuuck,” I groan. “That feels so good,babe.”
He hums in satisfaction around me as he bobs his head up and down. When I’m dangerously close to coming, I pull on his hair until he releases me.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I say, irrational panic lacing my voice. He squeezes my base to stave off my orgasm. “Fuck, that was close,” I say.
“I know,” he chuckles, crawling up and kissing me again. “I was hoping you might want to come when you’re inside me.”
I freeze. Did he just say what I think he said?
I look at him, and he laughs.
