Page 37 of Chasing Clouds

“This is different.” She laces her fingers with mine and squeezes then doesn’t let go.

Bending down, I tip her hat to the side, kiss her cheek, and whisper, “You’re welcome, princess.”

We keep exploring for the next couple of hours. She doesn’t find anything else she wants to buy, but we stay hand in hand as we walk from booth to booth. She continues looking through the different items, whereas I continue looking at her. There’s original art, clothing, jewelry, home decor, homemade items, quilts, indoor furnishings, outdoor furnishings, plants, perishables—you name it, someone’s got it for sale—and it isn’t until we’re down one of the last rows that I spot a long camera lens directed straight at us.

Shit.

I drop her hand, wrap my arm around her shoulders, pull her close, and spin us around to go in the opposite direction.

“What are we doing?” She looks up at me.

“Photographer.” My protective instincts have taken over and I want to put as much distance as I can between us and him.

She glances back quickly and stiffens. “Do you think he saw us?” She wraps her arm around my waist and we pick up the pace.

“Yes.”

“Do you think he knows who we are?” Our steps fall in sync as we round a corner to move out of sight.

“I don’t know. My guess is probably.”

She stops us and looks up at me as I look down at her. “Do you think we should go home?” She’s frowning, and I hate that her happiness from earlier is gone.

Looking around at the people wandering by us, she puts her free hand on my chest and steps closer. She’s so small tucked up next to me I can’t help but put my hands on her waist and bring her flush against me. Her hat flattens as she lays her head against my chest.

“That’s up to you,” I answer her.

Nothing would make me happier than to have the world see us out and together. I have nothing to hide, but I know she does—herself. The whole point of coming to Tampa was to try to stay low-key. We both knew eventually the media would catch up to us, but as this is her first outing and she’s still adjusting, a little reprieve would have been nice.

“Well, I’m not ready to go home yet.” She tilts her head back. “Maybe we go out for lunch somewhere quiet?” Her eyebrows are raised above her sunglasses.

It occurs to me that I like her thinking of my condo as home.

It also occurs to me that I’m liking all of this just a little too much, things I’ve never liked with anyone: her in my home, her sharing meals with me, her out in public with me, her touching me, her on my arm for others to see—her, her, her. It’s here and now that I remind myself all of this is temporary. I can like it all I want, even savor it, and for now that’s okay, because in the end I’ll still be me, she’ll be someone who lives a completely different lifestyle from me, and we’ll each go on our way. Dust in the wind.

Knowing this, I block the sudden assault of feelings and decide not to stress over what it all might mean. I can live in the present, and I can enjoy my time with her.

“Lunch sounds great, and I know just the place.”

“HOW DID YOU find this place?” I ask, removing my hat and laying it under my chair. Reid stands and lifts his arms to adjust the umbrella over our table, angling it to keep us shaded, and his T-shirt rises a bit, giving me a nice peek of his smooth, muscular stomach. I imagine my fingers tracing over each muscle, dipping up and down. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about what he would look and feel like with that shirt off, but I can’t help it. He is incredibly handsome.

“Billy brought me after I joined the team.” He sits back down in his chair and runs his hand over his hat to pull it down a little then picks up his menu. “He said it’s the best place in town to get served fresh fish, and he’s right. The menu changes daily based on what they caught earlier that morning.”

“That’s so great. Savannah has a few places that serve fresh-off-the-dock food, too. I’ll have to show you my secret places next time we’re there.”

From behind his sunglasses, his eyes jump to mine. Feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights, I realize how that sounded and start backtracking.

“Not that you’ll be in Savannah with me. I wasn’t implying that we’d still be together longer than the two months, just that the food is good there and I think you’d like it. Gah, you know what I mean.” Embarrassment climbs up my neck and heats my cheeks. I dig my sunglasses out of my bag. He’s wearing his, so I’ll wear mine too and hide behind them.

He chuckles and one side of his mouth tips up. “Deal. Next time I’m in Savannah, we’ll eat at your favorite places.” Reaching over, he tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear, runs his thumb down the column of my neck, and then squeezes my shoulder.

“Okay,” I mutter. I can’t seem to make any other words form.

Dropping the conversation, we both look over the menu, the waitress takes our order, and pretty quickly, our drinks and the food come out.

Reid is very easy to be around. I don’t feel any of the added pressure that comes with constantly being surrounded by people who are just looking for you to make a mistake so there’s fuel for gossip. He’s laid back, quiet, and genuinely seems like the nicest person I’ve ever met.

“Tell me something about you,” I blurt out between bites.