to her car.
“The truth is, I’d just gotten back to my Jeep when you pulled in. I had to meet you.”
“Had to?”
Had to. Wanted to. Needed to. Same difference. “Are you here for the summer?”
“Yes, and you?”
“I lifeguard over at Main Beach.” We reached her car door. I stuck out a hand. “Sean Dempsey.”
A graceful hand stretched out. I noted the lack of nail polish as her long fingers slid into my palm. There was no cliché electric shock when we touched but my cock ached, already anticipating her silky grip around my thick base. Down boy.
“I’m Kelsey.”
No last name. Smart girl.
“Nice car.”
The light in her eyes dulled. What did I say? Did she think I was only after her for a chance to drive her car? For the first time in my life it seemed like I’d blown a pickup but that didn’t bother me as much as the sadness in her eyes did.
After a moment she said, “It belonged to my Dad.”
Belonged? Past tense . “I’m sorry.”
Uh-oh. Tears. I should run while I had the chance but I stood rooted to my spot, fascinated by the way her eyes seemed to swim in sunshine. Fascinated by her.
Chapter 2
Kelsey
I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. Just what a cute guy wanted, a girl with her period and on the edge of hysterics. Only the tampons weren’t for me.
I peeked up, his once flirty blue eyes now filled with concern. He looked sincerely sorry. And not the ‘Shit, I’m not getting laid tonight’ type of sorry. There was no way for Sean to know that while the car was a beautiful memory of my father’s love, it was also a constant reminder that my Dad was gone. My heart tightened in grief.
What did one say to ‘I’m sorry’ regarding the death of a loved one? Even after one year, I couldn’t figure that out. It wasn’t like it was Sean’s fault. I said a lame, “Thank you.”
The standard awkward silence I knew to expect followed. Actually, I found any silence unsettling. It made me say stupid thinks like, “Is that a torpedo buoy in your shorts or are you just happy to see me”. My lame attempt at lifeguard humor was thankfully thwarted as a blaring horn broke the morning quiet. I looked to the road to see a bunch of girls, obviously beach bound, waving out the car windows. “Hey, Sean.”
With his gorgeous face and a lean but muscular body, I wasn’t surprised to witness his popularity with the ladies, but he didn’t turn his head to the road, instead he kept his gaze on me. Interesting.
But was he going to ask me out or not? I may be a feminist but as a Southern lady—snort—it was bred into me that a gentlemen asked for the first date, paid for the first date, and initiated the first kiss. Not that there were many gentlemen left in the world. And I wasn’t always the perfect Southern lady. Most of the time, I was. Sometimes. When it suited me.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Sean,” I blurted and swung the car door open.
“Wait.” He touched my arm and then backed away, dragging a hand through his wavy black hair. “Can I get your number?”
Besides playing it safe, I believed in having the ball in my court, so I said. “No, but you can give me yours.” I offered a smile to soften the blow of my refusal.
His face registered shock. He probably never had to work at getting a girl before. As a lifeguard, he’d just twirl his whistle, flex his bicep, flash that bad boy smile and the beach bunnies would simply drop their bikini bottoms. How many girls had feigned drowning to get those lips of his on hers?
I never gave much thought to that part of a man’s anatomy, but Sean’s promised soft kisses. Now I bit my lip for an entirely different reason.
Sean shot off his number and I entered it into my phone. “Got it.” I waved the phone in the air and slid into the car. He shut the door, leaned his corded forearms on the frame of the open window, and dipped his head. “You’re not playing me?”
I swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel to keep
“The truth is, I’d just gotten back to my Jeep when you pulled in. I had to meet you.”
“Had to?”
Had to. Wanted to. Needed to. Same difference. “Are you here for the summer?”
“Yes, and you?”
“I lifeguard over at Main Beach.” We reached her car door. I stuck out a hand. “Sean Dempsey.”
A graceful hand stretched out. I noted the lack of nail polish as her long fingers slid into my palm. There was no cliché electric shock when we touched but my cock ached, already anticipating her silky grip around my thick base. Down boy.
“I’m Kelsey.”
No last name. Smart girl.
“Nice car.”
The light in her eyes dulled. What did I say? Did she think I was only after her for a chance to drive her car? For the first time in my life it seemed like I’d blown a pickup but that didn’t bother me as much as the sadness in her eyes did.
After a moment she said, “It belonged to my Dad.”
Belonged? Past tense . “I’m sorry.”
Uh-oh. Tears. I should run while I had the chance but I stood rooted to my spot, fascinated by the way her eyes seemed to swim in sunshine. Fascinated by her.
Chapter 2
Kelsey
I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. Just what a cute guy wanted, a girl with her period and on the edge of hysterics. Only the tampons weren’t for me.
I peeked up, his once flirty blue eyes now filled with concern. He looked sincerely sorry. And not the ‘Shit, I’m not getting laid tonight’ type of sorry. There was no way for Sean to know that while the car was a beautiful memory of my father’s love, it was also a constant reminder that my Dad was gone. My heart tightened in grief.
What did one say to ‘I’m sorry’ regarding the death of a loved one? Even after one year, I couldn’t figure that out. It wasn’t like it was Sean’s fault. I said a lame, “Thank you.”
The standard awkward silence I knew to expect followed. Actually, I found any silence unsettling. It made me say stupid thinks like, “Is that a torpedo buoy in your shorts or are you just happy to see me”. My lame attempt at lifeguard humor was thankfully thwarted as a blaring horn broke the morning quiet. I looked to the road to see a bunch of girls, obviously beach bound, waving out the car windows. “Hey, Sean.”
With his gorgeous face and a lean but muscular body, I wasn’t surprised to witness his popularity with the ladies, but he didn’t turn his head to the road, instead he kept his gaze on me. Interesting.
But was he going to ask me out or not? I may be a feminist but as a Southern lady—snort—it was bred into me that a gentlemen asked for the first date, paid for the first date, and initiated the first kiss. Not that there were many gentlemen left in the world. And I wasn’t always the perfect Southern lady. Most of the time, I was. Sometimes. When it suited me.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Sean,” I blurted and swung the car door open.
“Wait.” He touched my arm and then backed away, dragging a hand through his wavy black hair. “Can I get your number?”
Besides playing it safe, I believed in having the ball in my court, so I said. “No, but you can give me yours.” I offered a smile to soften the blow of my refusal.
His face registered shock. He probably never had to work at getting a girl before. As a lifeguard, he’d just twirl his whistle, flex his bicep, flash that bad boy smile and the beach bunnies would simply drop their bikini bottoms. How many girls had feigned drowning to get those lips of his on hers?
I never gave much thought to that part of a man’s anatomy, but Sean’s promised soft kisses. Now I bit my lip for an entirely different reason.
Sean shot off his number and I entered it into my phone. “Got it.” I waved the phone in the air and slid into the car. He shut the door, leaned his corded forearms on the frame of the open window, and dipped his head. “You’re not playing me?”
I swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel to keep
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