Page 35 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
She watched his muscles flex as he carried the boards out of the shed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s actually good that you’re giving this some thought. I think it means something.”
There it was again, a glaring difference between what she usually did and what she did with Dean. “Maybe,” she said noncommittally.
As he loaded the boards into the truck, he didn’t push, didn’t make her feel guilty. He smiled and patted her butt, joking around like they always did, until she was breathing normally again.
“Hey,” she asked as he locked up the shed. “Why is your board so big?”
He chuckled. “You noticed?”
The dark look in his eyes revved her up again. “Yoursurfboard, big guy.”
“Like I said…”
How would she ever make it through the next few hours? Everything he said brought her right back to the dark desires she’d been trying to outrun. “You’re impossible.”
“Trust me, doll. I’mverypossible.” He backed her up against the truck again, leering like a hungry wolf. “With you, I’m a sure thing. Althoughthatlongboard is meant for you, as a beginner. It’s easier to balance on a longboard.” He pressed his hips against her again and said, “But thislongboard’sgot your name on it.”
Drawing all her wits about her, which at the moment weren’t much, she knew she had to try to ignore that comment and cling to the one that would keep her from jumping into bed with Dean. “I know how to balance. I don’t need a special board. Maybe I should ride the shortboard.”
“Not happening, doll,” he said as he pulled the keys from his pocket. “You want to get up on the board, not fall off it.”
She wanted to get up on something all right, but it wasn’t the surfboard.
Not helping.
“So, you’re riding the shortboard because you think you have better balance than me?”
“I’m riding the shortboard because I know how to surf.” He opened the passenger door of the truck, laughing under his breath. “Riding the shortboard,” he mumbled as he helped her in. “That’s not the thing I’m hoping to ride,shortcake.” He smacked her butt and strutted around the truck, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Get over here where you belong.” He hauled her beside him, and she didn’t even try to complain as he hooked her seat belt.
She didn’t want to.
He draped one arm around her, holding her against him, and drove out to the main road.
“I didn’t even accept a real date yet,” she pointed out.
“You take the long way around things. I know this about you. But maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I tend to find the most efficient route.”
“So that’s what this is?Efficiency?I’m living in your house. Kill two birds with one stone?”
He shook his head. “That smart-alec bull might work on other guys to goad them into a senseless debate and throw them off-track, but not me. You’re living in my house because it was a better place for you. You’re living there because youwantto be living there.”
She opened her mouth to rebut him again, but before she could get a word out he said, “You could have stayed at Violet’s, but you made a big show out of the whole naked-dude thing. I think you wanted me to offer my place.”
“Right,” she said sarcastically. “Delusional much?”
“Did you fight it?”
“No, but—”
“I rest my case. Like I said,deniallooks cute on you.” Dean parked the truck in front of Surf Magnet, which she assumed was his friend Jonny’s surf shop. He cut the engine and said, “But I have a feelingclaritywill looksmoking hot.”
He stepped from the truck and came around to help her out. She knew a thing or two about clarity. She found it as she greeted each morning with yoga and meditation. Wasn’t she always preaching the benefits of centering oneself to her clients? Praising mindfulness, the coming together of mind, body, and soul? But where Dean was concerned, clarity was shrouded in worry.
She stewed on those thoughts as she was measured and fitted for a wet suit, which she assumed they’d rent, but Dean insisted on buying.You’re a Cape girl now. You’ll need it.
