Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)(71)

Releasing her from my arms, I watched her take a deep breath of the fresh salty air. And—damn me—fresh salty tears backed up behind my eyelids.

She floated for a moment before easily turning to her front, stretching out before diving under.

I hit the water beside her, knifing through the incoming white-cresting waves. Hitting the surface with a whip of her head, Shy grinned at me.

“Why didn’t I do this sooner?” she shouted above the sound of other swimmers and surfers.

“Because you didn’t have an overbearing boyfriend.” Wrapping my arms around her waist, I hauled her under with me for a deep-sea salty kiss.

She smacked my chest and propelled free, swimming farther.

God. She was fucking stunning.

By the time I caught up to her, she floated on her back, the sun warming her body.

I trailed a lone finger up the center of her tummy and teased my lips beside her ear, “How does it feel?”

Her arms flapped lazily.

Her smile beamed so bright.

Tears pushed from the corners of her closed eyes.

“No pain.” Her breasts expanded with a deep breath. “I’m weightless, Max.”

I floated beside her, linking our hands together.

“I feel clean . . .” She squeezed my hand. “Free. Finally.”

“Good. That’s good, baby.” I looked up at the sun until it burned the tears from the back of my clogged throat.

So we floated. Holding hands. The sun caressing our skin. The ocean bearing us up and bumping us together.

Possibly the most important moment of my life.

Until a giant wave crashed over us, and we came up sputtering.

I eyed another breaker headed toward us. “You feel like body-surfing?”

“Oh yeah.”

Then I grumbled, “Not sure your bikini is up to it.”

Shy merely splashed me in the face.

A huge wave barreled down on us, and she started kicking to catch it in time.

One step behind her, I crested the wall of water, rushing toward the shoreline.

Shy came up beside me.

And yep.

Bikini top fail.

I quickly scooped her breast back into the tiny triangle, trying not to fondle the pearl of her nipple.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

“I know. Get your tits out much?”

She hugged me around the waist. “I just body-surfed. I’m standing!”

Well yeah.

But boobage.

It happened.

I lifted her into my arms, wading through the shallows, and she hid her face against my neck.

“You just flashed the whole beach! How can you be shy now?” I grumbled, striding across the sand.

Tugging me down for a long, lashing hot kiss that almost made me stumble, she whispered against my hungering mouth. “Because that’s what you call me.”

I laid her down on our blanket and stopped her from covering up when she pulled a towel over to hide her stump.

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s not for me.” She glanced out across the beach packed with tourists and college students and families out for the day. “I don’t want to make anyone else uncomfortable.”

Framing her face in my hands, I crouched in front of her.

“You don’t. And people don’t look at you. They don’t stare at you. Except for the fact you’re fucking gorgeous.” I brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Who cares anyway? Let them ask. You’ve been through hell. You should be proud.”

“I’m not as strong as you think.” A glimmer of tears threatened her softest gray eyes, and she dropped her gaze.

“You are exactly as strong as I think and you know it.”

“Max . . .” Her lips quivered.

“Okay?” I stroked my hand from the indent of her waist to the curvy swell of her hip and down her left side.

“You gave me back something I never thought I’d have again.” Shy let me stroke her leg, her hand on top of mine.

“What’s that?” I spoke roughly.

“Me.”

“You were right here all along.” Pushing closer against her, I kissed her chin, nibbled at her bottom lip.

I teased my fingers along her back. Then over the smooth features of her face, capturing a tiny drop of a tear that slid toward the corner of her mouth.

Nudging her lips with mine, I whispered, “I love you.”

She grasped the back of my neck, parting my lips with her tongue, going in for a fuller, deeper, hotter kiss.

When our mouths slid apart, I chuckled in a rugged tone. “People might be watchin’ now though.”

Throwing her head back, she laughed freely, falling back onto the blanket.

I kept watching her, a sudden dryness in my throat.

Dryness that wouldn’t be doused by a drink of water.

Thirst for a future with her.

One where we didn’t have to worry about her cancer.

When we could talk about having kids.

And we woke up together every morning.

Pulling away from Shy, I rummaged around the bag I’d lugged down to the beach. My fingers closed around the box, and I pulled it out, tight in my palm.

She squinted at me. “Why do you look sneaky all of a sudden?”

“More like nervous.”