Page 24 of Blinding Echo

He narrows his eyes as if he read my mind. I quickly look down and butter my bread, or try to. The melted butter drips off the foil paper onto my lap and I mutter a few curse words under my breath. Trying to accomplish simple tasks around him seems to be impossible.

“Need help?”

I peek up from blotting my jeans with the napkin. “Anything to get your hands between my legs, huh?” I say jokingly without thinking.

He licks his lips and shakes his head. “I meant buttering your bread.”

I flush and squeeze my eyes shut wishing I could take back my words. “But I like where your head is at.”

I try to laugh it off, folding the napkin in my lap. “So, how about we go back to talking about my project?” The slight tip of his head is all I need to move on. “It’s about…. When women are…” I keep pausing, searching for the right words. “It’s hard to explain. Rather, it’s something you need to see. The project is called You are the Light.”

“Something I have to see?”

“I’ll show you when you drop me off.” He flashes a disarming smile and I think about what I said to make him smile like that. “My project. I’ll show you my project,” I clarify.

“Well, I can’t wait to see it.” His genuine interest makes me like him a little more. “You’re not from here, are you?”

I hesitate, peering past him out in the ocean. The waves gently roll up the beach. This is why I don’t date. His question slams into me like a brick wall, waking me up to the reality I can’t commit to someone right now.

“Ellie?”

“I’m from Texas.” Despite the building anxiety, I answer. Small details won't open the floodgates from my past. I open my mouth to ask him where he’s from but snap it shut. If I ask him a question, it opens the door to more questions. More lies.

“I could tell.”

I’ve tried my hardest to lose my accent, but the damn thing won’t go away. “I could say the same thing about you, Cowboy.” His accent is a lot more prevalent than mine. He’s certainly from the south.

“Yes ma’am,” he says with a heavy accent that makes me laugh. “What brought you to Gilley Cove?”

“I came out here with my dad and I fell in love with it. I didn’t want to leave, so I didn’t.”

He sits forward in his chair. “Do your parents live here too?”

“No. They still live in Texas.” I sense he wants to ask more, so I change the subject. “You were in the military? Right?”

“Navy.”

“Were you on a ship the whole time?”

Chuckling, he replies, "No." He’s quiet for a moment, his attention pulled out to the ocean. I run my finger down the condensation of my water glass, wondering if he'll say more. It’s obvious neither of us want to talk about our past. I stay quiet to let him gather his thoughts. Who am I to pressure him into talking? His gaze meets mine again and the intensity in his eyes makes me question if he had a bad experience in the military. I know all about PTSD, but I don't have firsthand knowledge of people in the military and what they deal with overseas.

“Should I call you Popeye?” I say to lighten the mood.

He belts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Cowboy is fine.” His features soften, the tension fades. “Do you enjoy swimming?”

“In a pool, yes. In the ocean, not so much.” Living creatures grazing my legs and not noticing if they’re about to make me dinner scares the hell out of me. Nope, no thank you.

He grips his chest in mock horror. “I’m going to have to rethink our relationship,” he jokes.

“I wouldn’t call what we have a relationship.”

He leans in a little and whispers, “Yet.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and the spoken promise makes me fidget in my seat. "I’ll make you love the ocean."

Shaking my head, I say, “I doubt it.” He pushes his chair back and stands up, towering over the table. His wicked smile sends warning bells through me. “Wh… what are you doing?” I stutter.

I place my napkin on the table, not taking my eyes off him. The live band’s music comes off the patio. Darkness surrounds us now except for the scattered tiki torches lit on the beach from here to the top. The fire from a torch behind me reflects in his eyes as he takes a step toward me. I push my chair back, knocking it back, and move to the opposite side of him. “Kase,” I warn, holding up my hands. “How about we play around in the water, during the day?”

“There is plenty of light with the moon. Night swimming is the best.”

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