Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(32)

Flip-flops purchased at the Pamlico House gift shop with a hot pink and Kelly green grosgrain ribbon and a matching D-loop belt, rounded out her outfit. All those ladies she noticed the first night she and Erik had dined there passed through her mind as she approached him: she was preppy enough to fit in with any of them now. She just hoped Erik liked the way she looked too, which, judging from the grin on his face, was already a done deal.

“Hey,” she said, pulling off her sunglasses as she got to the top.

“Damn, woman. You look good enough to eat,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. He brushed her lips with a kiss. “I can’t decide if I want to show you off or take you to a secluded spot and hide you for the rest of the day!”

“I can’t believe we have the whole day,” she said, breathless from excitement and being so close to Erik again.

“I brought my chariot,” he said, glancing toward the parking lot. “Want to see my kingdom?”

“Your kingdom?” she said. “The Banks is more mine than yours!”

He chuckled. “Fair enough, but we’re not allowed in your part.”

True. “So where did you have in mind?”

“Ever been to the Elizabethan Gardens up in Manteo?”

“Never even heard of it!” she said, grinning at him with genuine delight. As long as he planned to go north instead of south, she could relax. King Triton didn’t deliver north of Avon and Manteo was a fair ways north of there. She’d know absolutely no one there, and more importantly, no one would know her.

“Well,” he said, glancing at his watch, “it’ll take an hour and a half to drive up. Want to stop in Rodanthe for lunch first?”

She nodded eagerly. She’d never been to Rodanthe either.

“I know a decent spot called the Good Winds Café, and I checked the menu online; they have mahi-mahi, crabs, and oysters today.”

“Online, like, you checked the menu on the internet?” she asked, touched by his thoughtfulness.

He nodded. “Please tell me you know what the internet is.”

She chuckled, slapping him on the arm. “I’m not that backward! There’s a computer at King Triton, and I know how to use it.”

“Then promise not to Google me.”

She screwed up her nose at him. To be honest, she didn’t know what Googling was, so she changed the subject. “The mahi will be fresh, but the oysters will be farm raised, not fresh catch.”

“Then mahi it is!”

A wave of unbridled, unadulterated happiness swept through her being, and she leaned up on tiptoe, her eyes closing when her lips came into contact with his. She arched her back, pressing her chest to his and winding her arms around his neck. She’d learned how to kiss him, how to elicit that soft groan of pleasure that made him hold her tighter, his muscles—all of them—hardening into stone against her. Her breath hitched as her tongue found his and a million butterflies took flight in her belly. But he suddenly drew away, and she looked up at him, opening her eyes in confusion.

“I’m goin’ to embarrass myself,” he said, licking his lips, looking like he would kiss her all day if they weren’t in public on full view.

She could feel the way he prodded into her and looked down to find his shorts dramatically tented outward.

“Oh,” she said, giggling up at him. “Sorry.”

He shook his head, his lips pursed and sour. “Now she says she’s sorry . . . when I’m so turned-on, I could practically change the tides by pivotin’ back and forth.”

Her shoulders shook as she laughed silently. “I’ll turn around and give you a minute to . . .”

“To what? Look at your gorgeous ass? Won’t help.” He looked down at his erection and sighed. “Let’s just make a run for it.”

Taking her hand, he ran for the parking lot, pulling her behind him until they reached a shiny black car. He opened her door, and she sat down on the supple tan leather seats with a sigh, fastening her seat belt as he rounded the car and sat down beside her.

She’d never been in a convertible, let alone a car this clean and fancy, and she turned to face him. “This is your car?”

He nodded. “My twenty-first birthday gift.”

Laire’s eighteenth birthday was last month, and she’d been given a parcel of new fabric, spools of thread, and replacement bobbins from her father and all the latest fashion magazines from Kyrstin. With a homemade cake from Issy to round out the festivities, she’d felt like the luckiest girl alive.

She could barely fathom a world where someone was given a luxury car as a birthday gift. And yet, here she was—experiencing that world for herself.

“It’s very beautiful.”

“You’re very beautiful.” He pressed a button, then leaned across the bolster to kiss her as the car started without a key.

She was too distracted to kiss him back and stared, slack jawed, at the car’s console.

“How did your car just start?”

He leaned away, pointing to a plastic thing in the cupholder between them. “As long as this is in the car, I can just press a button to start the ignition.”

“Well!” She looked up at him, shaking her head with wonder. “That’s amazing!”

He chuckled softly, shifting the car into reverse. “You’re amazin’.”