Sunlight flared in the depths of her hazel-green eyes. Lightly tanned skin and high cheekbones drew my gaze toward a set of supple, silk-smooth lips. She didn’t bother trying to contain the renegade, wind-whipped strands of her mane as they lashed about, tickling her sun-kissed complexion.
Instead of giving me the results of the game, she fixed a little smirk on her lips and came right back at me.
“Guess.”
That was all the opening I needed. I took a step in her direction, the sea-dampened sand giving way under my feet.
“Better luck next time.” I lifted the bottle. “How ‘bout a consolation prize?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but no. I’m not much of a beer drinker.”
The condensation on the neck dripped from my fingertips as I offered her the bottle once more.
“No strings.” I wiggled it. “Why waste this beautiful sunset sober?”
Just then, a wave hammered the shoreline behind her, surf thundering as it roared our direction. It was on us in no time, swirling around our legs and tugging at them like a deep sea vacuum. A shriek escaped from her lips. It didn’t sound like fear though, more like a melodic blend of whimsy and surprise.
She hadn’t meant to do it.
Or maybe she had.
I steadied myself, flexing my legs and core while she clung to me. But almost as soon as it came, the rushing current receded, leaving only her fear-filled fingers clutched tight around my biceps.
“Sorry.” She sputtered out a reedy breath and snatched her hands away, forming two white-knuckled fists.
The doe-eyed beauty stood there frozen stiff, in a defensive position with her hands partially blocking her tits. I imagined those same delicate fingers curled into the meat of my hips while I claimed her wet silk, taking her under the stars in a secluded seaside hidey hole.
Beer first, mother fucker. I snapped myself out of it. The fucking beer.
“No worries.” I gave her a shrug.
With a little help from the ocean’s depths, her icy demeanor seemed to have thawed, and I didn’t hesitate, extending it to her one last time.
“Offer still stands.”
After one final dip of her lashes, she did an about face and took the bottle from my grasp.
“Thanks.”
“Walk with me.”
It wasn’t a question.
Pivoting, I hadn’t taken a single step when I noticed her still standing there, doubt keeping her feet firmly planted. She had her hand shielding her eyes, looking toward the volleyball game. I followed her gaze, noticing one girl looking her way and waving. It wasn’t long before my little beach bunny lowered her hand from her eyes and looked at me again.
“I, um, I should get back to my friends.”
Never fight the tide.
“Gotcha.” I eased up next to her.
The concern in her expression faded. After a pensive, soft bite of teeth on her lower lip, she nodded, and we began the trek.
From there things got a little easier.
While she might have had it in her mind to hurry back, it took fifteen minutes for us to make what should have been a three-minute walk. Soon the scales tilted, shifting the weight of the conversation to her. While she did her best to ask about me, I answered with curt replies, revealing as little as required.
“First time here?” Her lip curled with an inquisitive smile.
“What Italy?”
“Yeah.”
“No.” I shook my head. The fucking stories I could tell. “Been here a few times. Just grabbing a little R&R. You?” I lifted my chin, nodding in the game's direction. “Visiting friends or?”
She turned away. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly while a lump made its way down her throat.
“Something like that,” she said before hammering back another lightning-quick sip. “Actually, I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Not a problem. I only need tonight, sweetheart.
Just then she stopped, pointing at the chair where Mack had been. “Hey. Weren’t you here with someone else? Where’d your friend go?”
I glanced at the vacant seat.
Good fucking man.
“Who knows?” I gave her a quick wink. “Maybe he found a mermaid to keep him company for the night.”
Before long, we’d made our way back to the group. The waver approached, eyeing me with a suspicious glance, and looking at my bikini-clad ten.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Right then, I knew I needed an evasive maneuver, some clever tactic to diffuse this interloper’s cockblocking instincts.
Bingo.
My Italian wasn’t perfect but passable enough for what I had in mind.
4
Sparkle (Taylor)
Antonia giggled like a schoolgirl as we turned and walked away. I let Captain America take a few steps first while I gave her a sidelong glance and she flashed me an eager smile.
Have fun!
Whatever he’d said to her apparently changed her state of mind from that of a worried, pseudo BFF to a something resembling a seaside matchmaker. Looking away from her, I narrowed my eyes at him. He lumbered toward the chairs, thick shoulders rolling from side-to-side with each step he took.
“Hmm,” I muttered.
He eased into his seat as I approached, angling his upper body to the cooler and producing two ice cold beers. While he cracked them open, I sat down next to him with more than one question on my mind. The first one was obvious though, and no sooner had he offered me another bottle than I asked it.
“Okay.” I arched a brow. “What did you say to her?”
“Hmm?” He leaned back, stretching one of his arms behind his head. “What d'ya mean?”
“Nice try,” I bit off. “You spoke Italian to her. What d'you say?”
Before he could answer, I stole a peek toward Antonia. She stood there with an awwwww look on her face, which accomplished nothing, except making me even more suspicious. Snapping my head his way again, I tented my eyebrows.
Well? I’m waiting.
“Oh, right.” His bicep bulged as he bent his arm at the elbow, pressing his lips to the bottle and taking a healthy swig. “It was nothing, just a little Italian romance story.”
“Uh, huh.” I crossed my legs at the knee, bouncing one of them while I waited for the punchline. “About?”
His baby blues twinkled with mischief before he glided his tongue across his lips and began his confession.
“I told her we were once lovers but lost touch after having shared only a single night of intimacy. Fate brought us together here again, of all places. I wanted to see if the magic was still there after all these years. I hoped she would understand if I pulled you away for a quiet chat to find out.”
“What?!” I sputtered.
I gave him a closer look. Although I wasn’t sure, he was probably in his late twenties, pushing thirty even. Like, how was that even mathematically possible?
Was Antonia really that gullible?
Apparently.
“Okay, right,” I said. “Well, I’m only twenty, Romeo, so when was that supposed to have happened?” I gestured toward Antonia. “I can’t believe you told her…”
He lifted his hand, showing me his palm.
“Joke.” Amused with himself, his chiseled midsection vibrated with a chuckle. “I told her we’d be sitting in these chairs, having some beers since that’s what Americans like to do. You seemed like you needed some company and I asked her if that would be okay.”