Page 6 of Charlotte
4
CHARLOTTE
Despite the slight hangover from the bachelorette party the night before, I still make the time to go to the beach for an afternoon of reading and some much-needed Vitamin D. I've been counting down the days for this break. I'm so ready to decompress, shut off my mind, and enjoy the romantic romps of five wild women and the shenanigans they experience in Vegas.
I'm only a few chapters in, and I'm laughing out loud at the situations they are getting into already. I’m so absorbed in my book that I don’t hear the warning call until it’s too late.
“Look out!”
I glance up from my book just in time to see the frisbee soaring right at me and a dog that’s about to plow right into me. The frisbee hits me first, sending my sun hat flying off my head, followed by a dog barreling into me. My tablet goes flying out of my hands, and I roll out of my chair and into the sand.
“Are you okay?” A deep voice asks.
I choke out a mouthful of sand and start coughing. I reach for my insulated water bottle and rinse out my mouth before I can respond. I spit the gritty water out onto the beach and look over at the man kneeling next to me. The concerned expression on his face does little to deter from his good looks.
“It’s you,” I say, recognizing the dancer from last night that pulled me up on stage.
Kara told me later in the evening that she thought that Aubrey would try some stunt like setting it up that one of the dancers would pull her up on stage. She’d already promised her fiancé that she would behave, so she thought she’d give me the thrill. I think her decision to trick me into wearing her veil had more to do with the fact that the rest of the bridesmaids were already in on Aubrey’s plan. I wanted to be mad at first, feeling like it was some hazing prank, but then I realized she wasn't wrong about giving me the thrill. Even though I tried to tell him that I wasn't the bride, he kept dancing anyway, and I was thrilled he did. I've never had someone so good-looking look at me the way he did. I know that it's his job to make the women in the audience feel like they are unique, but I couldn't help but still feel something with him.
He's dressed in only red board shorts, and his sweaty chest is something of a masterpiece up close. I thought it was all in my imagination last night when I replayed our encounter last night in bed, but he is one hundred percent real.
“Yes, I’m sorry about that.” He points over his shoulder to the blue healer wagging its tail next to him. "Maddie gets excited when it comes to frisbee time, and she doesn't always know her strength."
I pull off my sunglasses and can see it in his eyes the moment he recognizes me too. “It helps if the frisbee isn’t thrown at my head.”
“Oh, man." He runs his hand over his dark, cropped hair. "The wind must have caught it. I’m real sorry about that.”
Maddie pushes between us sits down. Clearly, she is laying claim on this guy that he is hers—and I can’t really blame her.
“It’s okay,” I say. “It was more startling than painful.”
We both get quiet. Obviously, both know how we know the other one, but neither of us wants to admit it.
"Are you here with your fiancé?" he asks, looking around.
I can't help it. I start to laugh. I thought he was just ignoring me when I told him I wasn't the bride last night, but maybe he couldn’t hear me over the music and all the women screaming.
“I tried to tell you last night that I wasn’t the bride,” I explain and hold up my left hand to show him my bare ring finger.
He shakes his head. “No, you were wearing the veil.”
“My friend promised to her fiancé that she’d behave and tricked me into wearing it.”
He glances down back down at my hand and then back up at me. The corner of his mouth ticks up into a crooked smile that makes my lower belly flip. He holds out his hand to me.
“I’m Thomas.”
I take his hand. “You sure you don’t want me calling you Tommy Gunn?”
He chuckles. "Well, my name is Thomas Gunderson. You wouldn't be completely off if you did."
“I’m Charlotte.”
He repeats my name so quietly under his breath that I’m not even sure I’ve heard him correctly.
“Well, seeing as I made spectacle on stage with you, then hit you with a frisbee, and my dog plowed into you like a tank into a wall. Can I attempt to make it up to you and buy you a cold drink?"
He points over my shoulder, and I follow to see what he's pointing towards. A food truck parked near the beach with a sign that says, “Adult Slushies Are Back!”
