“Don’t ruin such a nice moment by talking. Just don’t,” I admonished, giving him the side eye.
The laughter left his gaze, and he brought his long fingers up to my arm, holding my hand against his lips. He kissed my palm and then my inner wrist, leaving the sensitive flesh tingling. Then he laced our fingers together and wrapped our conjoined hands behind my lower back, forcing me against his warm, bare chest.
“Wouldn’t want to do that,” he murmured, his lips just grazing mine as he spoke.
He pulled me closer, raising me up on my tiptoes, and I braced my free hand on his shoulder. His lips brushed mine, a mere tease of a kiss. Humming deep in his throat, he cupped the side of my neck, holding me in place as he deepened the contact. His mouth settled over mine with lazy intent, molding my lips with his. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I smiled beneath him, but he didn’t push for more. He dropped hot kisses across my jawline until his breath warmed my ear as he nuzzled my neck with his nose.
“Hungry?”
CHAPTER 14
I nodded, exposing my neck to his warm lips.
He let go of the hand behind my back, his fingers biting into my hips instead. My lips were a bare inch from his shoulder. I closed my eyes and just absorbed his nearness, the intensity of the moment building as he nipped a path down my neck to my collarbone. When he drew back and I felt his eyes on me, I forced my own heavy lids to open partway. He lifted a hand to trace my lips before his fingers blazed a path back to my waist, skimming the side of my breast in the process. My nipples beaded in response. I exhaled, not realizing I had been holding my breath.
His fingers flexed, and his mouth brushed the shell of my ear as he leaned down and whispered my name.
“Ready to eat?”
Disoriented, I blinked at him.
“Our picnic?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know, the whole reason we came out here?”
I took a step back and ran my tongue across my teeth in annoyance. He was playing with me. And it was working.
“Sure. Let’s eat.” I marched over to the cooler and beach bag. Finding an oversized beach towel inside, I spread it out near the bean bags and sat down on one side of it, wrapping my arms around my bent knees. “What’s for lunch?”
West grinned. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a little of everything.”
Reaching into the cooler, he started pulling out small plastic containers, subdivided into sections holding crackers, cheese, and circles of meat.
My eyebrows shot up. “You brought Lunchables?”
“Hey, don’t laugh. I love these things. I have turkey, ham, bologna, and pepperoni, your choice.”
“You brought Lunchables,” I repeated, this time a statement instead of a question. “For our picnic.”
“Not just Lunchables. I packed apples and watermelon too.”
I nodded at him, dumbfounded. I’m not sure what I expected when he invited me on a picnic, but somehow, this wasn’t it. Shaking one of the plastic sealed containers at him, I said, “I thought size mattered! These are for kids!”
“Babe, I got us covered. I have three of each kind.”
I tipped my head, not sure how to even reply to that kind of logic.
“Plus, I brought us dessert. Hold on, you’ll like this.” Rising up on his knees to dig through the cooler, West put the fruit and Lunchables between us, tossing one of the apples to General Beauregard, who happily set to gnawing on it a few feet away from us. After placing some bottles of water on the striped towel, he extracted a familiar looking green-and-white box from the cooler, and my breath caught. “Krispy Kreme original glazed. Bought fresh this morning.”
My eyes crinkled in the corners, and I bit my lip, trying to contain my laughter. He displayed the box like a model on The Price is Right.
“Come on, admit it. I did good.”
“The doughnuts might make up for the Lunchables,” I conceded.
“Hey, when was the last time you had one? I’m telling you, whoever invented these things was a fucking genius. Meat, cheese, and crackers, all packaged together. What’s not to love?”
He seemed genuinely thrilled. I poked my tongue in my cheek and picked up a package, staring at it. “They make pepperoni ones now?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Yup, with mozzarella. Fancy, right?”
I blew out a breath and gave in to the laughter. “Very.”
Peeling back the plastic wrapper, I assembled my mini cracker stacks. I would never admit it to him, but they were a lot better than I remembered. West worked his way through one of each variety and then pointed to the apples. He’d bought two of each color. I picked up a Golden Delicious and took a bite.
After snagging the other red one, he whistled. General Beauregard perked his ears in our direction, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his original apple long gone. Panting, the dog lay next to West and wagged his tail. West pulled his arm back, and General Beauregard leapt to his feet, instantly alert. Throwing the apple high in the air, West yelled “Catch!” as the hound crouched low. As the apple began its descent, the dog jumped, the fruit easily snatched out of the air, his ears spread like wings steering him in for the landing. Regaining his footing, he adjusted his grip on the prize, working his jaw, and shook his head with the fruit clenched between his jowls. Then he settled onto the edge of the oversized towel, holding the apple between his paws, and began crunching on it.
“He likes the red ones the best.”
I wrinkled my brow. “How in the world do you know that?”
“I know. Me and General Beauregard, we talk about these things, man-to-man. I take care of him, and he’s a chick magnet for me. We have this partnership all worked out. He gets paid in food, I get paid in pu—” West broke off in a coughing fit.
“Right,” I said.
West ducked his head and smiled, a dimple showing in his cheek. “He caught your attention, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, ’cause I thought he was abandoned. And he looked sad.”
“He always looks sad. It’s the big ears. I told you, size matters. And looks are deceiving. That dog has the best life ever.”
“I figured that was you.”
“Me? Why would you think I have the best life ever?”
“You live at the beach—”
“So do you,” West interrupted.
“You fish and bartend for a living.”
“Okay, yeah, that part’s pretty awesome.”
“You live with your brother.”
“I live with my best friend, just like you. He just happens to be my brother too, the fortunate bastard.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re close with your family.”
“Mm, you’re partly right. I’m close my siblings and my grandparents.”
“Not your parents?”
West hesitated, tilting his head. “You really want to hear about this?”
I shrugged. “Isn’t this what people do on dates? Get to know each other? You were the one who insisted on taking me out today. So talk.”
West sighed and shifted on the towel, lying back until his head was in my lap. “If we’re going to have a therapy session, I’m going to get in the proper position,” he joked, looking up.
I followed his gaze. Wispy cirrus clouds painted the sky with their pale brushstrokes.
I reclined back onto one of my hands and ran my fingers through his hair with the other. He leaned into my touch, and I repeated the motion, lightly scraping my nails against his scalp. He groaned.
“Keep that up, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Family history. Social security number. Where I hid the body.”
I paused, stilling my hand, and he squinted up at me. “Kidding.”