Page 23 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

ORION

Right before five p.m.,I head out the door to meet Carina. The walk is only a few minutes down the beach, past houses that are a variation of the style of mine, and then I’m greeted with the world-famous facade of the Paradise Bar and Grill. It’s designed to look like a sandcastle, with the entire ground floor open to the beach.

I cross through what would be the patio at any other place, but here the tables are perched in the sand with large umbrellas and palm trees providing some shade. Signs urge patrons to remove their shoes. Inside, the room centers around a large, square bar. Off to one side an area is roped off and a sign proclaims,Local Residents Only.

I find Carina quickly, sitting alone at a large table in the locals’ section. I’m intercepted by Alex who steps out from behind the bar before I can get to her.

“Hey, man! Glad you finally made it in!” He claps me on the back.

I hide my grimace. It’s not that I don’t want to catch up with Alex, but I need Carina more. She’s calling to me and I feel pulled to her in the way only the sea has ever managed.

“I’m actually meeting Carina Webb. I did that charter with her and to my surprise, and likely not yours, she’s my next-door neighbor,” I say flatly. I don’t know what I expect to accomplish by calling him out, but I do it anyway.

“Carina’s great. I’m glad you hit it off without any expectations.” He winks.

I need to shut this down. For Carina’s sake. I can run interference on Alex all day, but she has enough on her plate. “I just moved here. I’m not looking for any complications.” From the corner of my eye, I see a server place glasses of water on the table she’s at.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Right, of course.”

We don’t know each other well, so he isn’t aware of my dating history. Otherwise, he’d keep me far away from Carina if he cares about her.

“Your first appetizer is on the house. I’ve already made the staff aware you’re allowed in the locals’ section.”

“I appreciate it.”

It shouldn’t mean much, but being accepted by Alex means the rest of the town will follow. His family has owned this place for generations. It’s been a driver of tourism for years. We do a quick one-armed hug before I am free to approach Carina.

She jumps when I pull out the chair next to her. “Sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“No, I was focused on the beach,” she says softly, pointing.

The table has a clear view of the public beach, and the sea breeze drifts across my skin through the open facade. By our houses, it’s been quiet. Here, tons of people play in the water, even this late in the afternoon.

Then her attention turns to me and I realize she’s wearing a dress. I’m hit by a wave of lust so strong, I need to take a moment to think of anything but the way the hem wanders up her thighs or how the scoop of her neckline hints at cleavage. Her legs are so strong and her skin so soft. All I want is to bury my head between her thighs and never come up for air. They have quickly become my new obsession.

She’s attractive no matter what she’s wearing, whether it’s shorts or those yoga pants she doesn’t wear panties with. I’d never want her to be anything other than strong, but this dress makes it easy for me to see her as the princess everyone thinks of her as.

“I thought you only wore athletic wear.” I sit and sip from the water glass nearest me.

She looks down, the end of her ponytail drifting over her shoulder. “This is an athletic dress. It has built-in shorts and stretchy fabric.”

I’m guessing the built-in shorts also count for her underwear. “It’s one of yours, then?”

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you wear other brands?” It’s a genuine question, but Carina gets defensive.

“Everything I make, I stand by its sustainability and labor practices. I don’t know that for many other companies.” Her spine straightens when she talks about labor practices. It’s so hot.

I respond to her defensiveness with my own snark. “Plus, you look gorgeous so people will buy it in the hopes of looking as good as you.”

Her face flushes and her mouth twists. We agreed to be friends. But I can’t turn off the fact I find her attractive. If it really bothers her, I’ll stop mentioning it. I can’t deny Carina deserves to be praised.

“Yes, my body allows me to advertise my products in a way that’s in line with conventional beauty standards. But my goal is never to serve as body inspiration.”

I’ve hit a nerve I didn’t think about. I don’t know what’s behind that statement, but I’m concerned she’s hurting herself by forcing herself to look a way that isn’t healthy. Or she’s worried other people will harm themselves trying to look like she does. “Carina, I didn’t mean?—”

She shakes her head and stands up. I think she’s leaving. Instead, she greets a man with sandy blond hair and tattoos poking out of the sleeves of his T-shirt.

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