“Don’t do stupid shit, Lena.”
I nodded at my reflection and walked to the door.
Elias stood on the porch carrying a basket in the crook of his arm, the neck of a wine bottle poking out the top. The porch light glinted off his sandy blond hair, and his blue eyes and straight white teeth gleamed against his tanned skin. The sleeves of his linen shirt were pushed up and hung untucked over loose, khaki pants. With his Birkenstocks, he’d gone full beach bum, and it suited him. Lust merged with the adrenaline and set my body aflame with desire. Cool it, Lena.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said.
My chest fluttered from the silk in his voice. He leaned across the threshold and pecked my cheek, his closeness filling my senses with warmth, coconut, and sandalwood. How I didn’t melt into a pile of goo was beyond me, but I reminded myself what happened the last time I let my body succumb to unrelenting hotness, and it tempered my runaway lust.
“Hi.”
“You ready?”
“Absolutely.”
He held out his arm. I took it and stepped out onto the porch. The door clicked shut behind us. No going back now.
We strolled along the winding path, making small talk under the light of the full moon shining through the canopy. We crested the ridge of the dune, and my lips parted on an intake at the breathtaking vista.
The full moon hung in the sky, a lambent globe swollen from perspective and bursting with light and warmth. It illuminated the night as if the sun handed over its baton, casting an ethereal glow across the water and turning the ocean into an unending expanse of liquid crystal.
“You weren’t kidding,” I muttered and tore my eyes away from the spectacular scene to face him. “It’s beautiful.”
He met my gaze, eyes sparkling like the water in the moonlight. “I thought you’d enjoy this. Come on.” He took my hand and led me farther down the beach. Overcome by the beauty of nature and the warmth of his touch, I interlaced my fingers with his and squeezed. He glanced down and smiled.
We reached the water’s edge just shy of the waves before he set down the basket, pulled out a blanket, and spread it across the sand. “Have a seat. I’ll open the wine.”
His gallantry made my chest flutter. I hadn’t dated since... since I’d met my ex-husband.
After the divorce, I’d avoided men like kids avoided broccoli. The damaged part of my heart tried to protect itself, reminding me that Elias’s entire schtick had to be an act. But I’d gotten to know him over the past couple of weeks, and my cynicism couldn’t hold out against his genuine nature. His authenticity forced me to consider another option—that his thoughtfulness was sincere, and his intentions were honorable. My inner romantic resurfaced and begged me to allow the handsome man pouring two glasses of expensive Chardonnay to sweep me off my feet.
I kicked off my sandals, sat on the blanket, and extended my legs, reclining on my hands to watch the moonlight dance across the waves. He handed me a glass and raised his own, holding me captive with the bottomless depths of his ocean eyes. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings.”
We clinked glasses, and a slow smile stole possession of my face even as I drank. This man was far too charming. He lay on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, one knee bent, wine glass loose in his hand. He looked like a modern Adonis, his tanned Greek features stark against the white and khaki linen reflecting the moon’s soft glow.
“How’s everything with the house?” he asked. “We haven’t talked about it since the first day we met.”
“No, I suppose we haven’t.” I shifted onto my side to face him, leaning on one arm and holding my wine in the other. “Which has been nice, by the way. Our lessons give me a chance to take my mind off all that. Focus on something else.” I sipped my wine. “But, to answer your question, the paperwork is done. My grandmother’s property, including the house, is now in my name.”
“Congratulations.”
“Huh.” I blinked. Congratulations struck me as odd. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.”
“What way?”
“Something deserving of congratulations.” I breathed deep through my nose, considering the idea, then deflated like a balloon. “I guess I still think of inheriting an empty house as part of losing my grandma.”
He looked over his shoulder at the ocean and nodded slightly. “I can see that.” He sipped his wine. “But I also see it as an accomplishment. It’s difficult to deal with paperwork when you’re not struggling with loss. I avoid it myself. Toxic stuff.” He scrunched up his face and feigned a shudder. I chuckled at his near-visceral reaction to responsibility. “But dealing with paperwork after what you’ve been through?” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you did it. It hasn’t even been a month. The way I see it, that’s grounds for congratulations.”
He was right, of course. As usual. This wasn’t the first time Elias had shined a flashlight on my glass-half-empty takes.
Under the weight of my grief, my thoughts had focused on what I no longer had instead of the potential for possibility. Elias had pointed it out enough times it was clear I needed to shift my thinking and turn around my negative headspace. Now, with some of the deepest sadness lifted, that finally seemed possible.
“Thank you. For the congratulations and the perspective. Apparently, you came into my life to remind me of possibility.” I held up my glass. He clinked his against it, and we both drank. “But, yeah, it’s a big weight off. No more lawyers.”
Puh, he grunted. “Lawyers. Even worse than paperwork.” He tipped his glass in my direction and took another deep drink.
