Page 57 of Just a Plot Twist
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says.
I’m not sure what she means. She’s on her knees on the blanket we’ve spread out on the sand. The fabric of her dress pools around her, with one side pulled up higher than the other because she’s grasping it in her fist.
She is stunning.
She’s breathing heavily, like we kissed until we were breathless.
We did not kiss.
My mind is backtracking, trying to figure out if I did or said something wrong.
I mean, I was straightforward. I indulged in my reckless thoughts and told her how I feel about her.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
“No.”She reaches out a hand in my direction, her palm reassuring me. “I like you. But we’re so different.”
“In some ways,” I agree. “But that’s what makes things interesting.”
“What you were saying about me was…it was sweet and—” She hesitates, sinking down into a sitting position. “Well, I’ve loved being around you tonight and texting you.”
“Me, too, Claire.”
“We’ve had completely different life experiences, though,” she says.
“We have, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
She chews on her lip, her gaze on her lap.
“Look, I’m not saying I have all the answers,” I say. “Or that I know what we should do. I just really like being around you. And I want to keep being around you as much as we can.”
At first, her smile is tentative, but when she searches my eyes, it grows. “I want to be around you, too.”
The moonlight hits the planes of her face, lighting her porcelain skin with a sheen that sears into my brain. I’d love to kiss her, but she’s right: We’ve had different experiences in life. I need to be patient and take my time with any sort of physical relationship with her.
I don’t want to say goodbye to her, but she looks a bit spooked.
I stand, brushing the sand from my legs onto the beach. “Are you ready for me to drive you back to your car?”
“Sure, yes.”
She moves as if to stand, but I step to her side.
“Whoa, let me help you.”
I help her up and to the car, my arm around her waist, and my other hand at her elbow.
It was a good night. I can be myself around her, but I also want to be more than I already am—it’s both comfortable and exciting at the same time.
The drive is quiet, but I steal glances at her and, in the semi-darkness, catch her gaze flicking to me at the same time. A pluck of warmth settles over me.
I’ve never come close to going out with a woman since my divorce. I can’t rush this. It’s a good thing we didn’t kiss when our lips were an inch apart.
It’s good I didn’t press a kiss to her neck. Or her shoulder. Or that place where my bowtie hung down against her golden, velvety skin.
I shake my head, a quick and violent reset. “Want to listen to some music?” I ask, pointing to the buttons on my sound system.
She smiles. “Your ride, your tunes?” she jokes.
