Page 84 of Capture the Moment
Now, usually when a white man asks to touch my hair–Hell, whenanymanorwoman wants to… I say no. But the look of pure awe and fascination in Blake’s eyes has my heart skipping multiple beats and before I can think twice, I’m nodding my head.
Blake gasps as he softly tugs on one of my curls, twirling it with his finger and giggles–I kid you not–as the curl spirals back into its original place.
“I love your hair how you normally wear it but it’s fucking gorgeous like this, baby.” His voice is soft and smooth like lukewarm butter as he coo’s before tugging me against him, holding me from behind.
I lean back into Blake’s embrace, resting my head on his chest and watch as the ocean’s waves crash against the shore.
The sun has fully set at this point and instead of being basked in darkness, the moon’s light shines upon us casting a soft glow over the beach. I look up at Blake, analyzing his features and noting the small freckle he has on the bottom of his jaw.
“I had a lot of fun with you tonight,” I say without thought as his body rumbles from under me with his small laugh.
“I had a lot of fun with you too, Cleo.”
I scrunch my nose at the use of my name and Blake seems to notice; he throws his head back in a deep laugh as I frown.
“Princess. I meant Princess.” He chuckles.
Good. Once you start using a nickname on someone, you can’t just revoke it. That’s like the universal nickname law. I don’t make the rules.
We sit in a gentle silence, the only sound to be heard out of the two of us being the environment until both of our stomachs rumble at the same time. The action has us reeling with laughter but Blake recovers first.
“C’mon, there’s a boardwalk just a few steps away,” He says and that’s how I find myself walking down a boardwalk at 10 p.m. hand-in-hand with a 6’4’’ hockey player.
We buy any and everything, completely bypassing Blake’s strict diet for tonight only as we stuff our mouths. I’m scarfing down my second fried Oreo when Blake pauses in front of the last open game stall.
Can anyone guess what stall it is?No?I’ll tell you. It’s dart’s.
Blake gives me a mischievous grin before proceeding to tug me toward the large stall. The lonely worker at the stand gives us an unenthusiastic smile as Blake hands him a fifty-dollar bill. My eyes widen at the quantity but when he gives me a quick wink, I decide that it’ll be best to keep my mouth shut. He has a plan and I’m not sure if it’s one that’ll leave me with a dart or stuffed animal in my arms.
“I’m going to win you that flamingo,” Blake announces, setting down his phone and funnel cake fries as I raise a brow at him. “I’m serious. I'mgoing towin it!” he insists, taking hold of all of the darts. He oozes confidence and I think for just a moment, he’ll be like he was when we’d first played darts—shitty with terrible aim.
But as I watch him take a step back and hold the dart at eye level, I know that it’ll hit its target before it ever leaves his finger tips. Within four tries of throwing darts, Blake has won not only the pink flamingo he’d set out for but also two smaller plushies of Maryland’s blue crab wearing sombreros, one pink and one red.
Just like us.
As we make our way back to our spot on the beach, we’re talking nonstop about any and everything. Blake tells me more about Jules and I tell him all that I know about Lorelei's wedding.
“If I was a worm, would you still want to date me?” I ask, looking over at Blake as we settle back on our blankets.
He makes a show of pondering the question before shrugging. “I’d date you in any lifetime, in any form, Cleo Jones.”
Hello, heart?Yeah… How does it feel to be snatched?
I don’t think twice as I lean in, puckering my lips. Blake meets me halfway, kissing me so soft and tenderly that my legs go numb. As we part, our eyes slowly open, solely focusing on one another. My face heats up from the searing look that he gives me as it burns into the depths of my soul. It's intoxicating and embarrassing how flustered I'm getting. I reach for a lifeline and play with the toy crabs he'd won me.
Once I make myself busy arranging Laker, his wife Leo, and their child, Phoenix the flamingo, the sound of an iPhone camera recording grabs my attention.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my tone dripping with amusement as I whirl around to the smiling man behind me.
Blake chuckles as he holds his phone up higher, more than likely to get a video of my makeshift family.
“Capturing the moment, Princess.”
thirty-eight
Cleo
As a bright lightbeams down on my face, I groan, trying to shut out the light with my blanket.Fucking weighted blanket won’t—A low groan stills me in my action, I pop an eye open, looking around to gauge my surroundings. Red beady eyes and a pink sombrero meet my gaze, is that a crab in a sombrero?
