Unexpected Arrivals(38)
“Do you bartend full time?”
As much as I enjoyed the company, it was obvious by the looks and the lack of meaningful conversation that Carp was more interested in losing himself in my body than getting acquainted with me. I didn’t want to cheapen myself, but relationships weren’t a possibility, and I had the same carnal desire anyone else did.
“No. I just do it to earn extra money.” I didn’t offer him anything further regarding my employment. Nothing I said would compare to whatever he did in New York, and I wasn’t interested in tasting regret. Not everyone lived to be a millionaire.
The moonlight reflected off the water, and my mind wandered momentarily to the endlessness of the ocean: the crashing waves, rolling tide, and the way it married the horizon, even in darkness. The surf lapped at our now bare feet, and the warm sand between my toes reminded me that I now called this island paradise home. The simple things in life could be monumental if we allowed ourselves to appreciate what nature gave us for free.
“What do you do for a living?” I hated that question—moreover I hated that Americans defined their identities with careers. However, he’d just done the same to me, and he seemed bored strolling along the shore in silence.
“Wealth management.”
“Ah, so the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” My brow rose, not in judgment rather humor. There was no denying he and his father weren’t close just in the little time I’d seen them together, yet he’d followed in the old man’s footsteps. I kept my gaze in front of me.
I expected him to present a firm argument against my assumption. Instead, he dismissed the comment the same way he’d done his father’s friends at the party—with dignified grace.
“Other than bartending, what else do you like to do?” There was nothing in his tone to indicate he had any real interest in my hobbies or preferences. He hadn’t been rude; in fact, he’d been rather pleasant, even though both of us were well aware this wasn’t going anywhere long term.
I quit walking, and he stopped a couple steps ahead of me when he realized I wasn’t next to him. “Can we just be honest here?” I didn’t say the words with accusation, yet the question was pointed.
He turned back, closed the gap between us, and met my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“You don’t live here. I’m not going to New York. Obviously, the two of us are attracted to each other, and neither plan on any kind of relationship. Am I right so far?”
His shoulders raised with an involuntary shrug he seemed embarrassed by. “I guess so.”
I glanced around the deserted beach and then pulled a condom out of my pocket. “I’m not interested in romance, Carp, and I don’t do relationships. There are miles of desolate beach and nothing other than moonlight to disturb us.” My forwardness caught him by surprise.
His brow furrowed in contemplation. Carp mulled something over, and the silence hung between us while I waited. “Have you ever had sex in the sand?”
I shrugged and cocked my head to the side without answering.
“It’s like rubbing sandpaper on your ass while you try to get off.”
“Okay, I’ll take the bottom.” My coy grin lit a fire in his eyes. The cool blue warmed in front of me. “Or you could sit, and I could ride. Whichever suits you.” I’d never been brazen. The girl speaking to Carp was as much a stranger to me as she was to the man before me.
But sometimes, when you have nothing left to lose, you have to take the bull by the horns. I refused to live by anyone else’s rules anymore. Life didn’t hand you what you wanted—you had to take it without regret. And just like that, I stripped off the tank top that covered my thin frame and glanced at my flat stomach when I shimmied out of my shorts. I dropped each piece onto the sand in a pile that I stepped over to close the gap between us. Hunger marked his face and lust traced his eyes. The second the moon reflected off the foil between my fingers he sprang into action.
Something happens to a single man in front of a naked woman—he loses all rational thought. Where there had been a hint of hesitation before, the pull of bare skin basking in the light of the moon was too much to resist. He looked like a sailor lost at sea, lending his ear to a siren.
I wasn’t part of mythology, and he wouldn’t get entranced by my spell. I was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who wasn’t captivated by the unfamiliar or afraid of risk.
Even though the experience wasn’t beautiful, I couldn’t say it was tragic. Sadly, we hadn’t bonded over the intimate act on the beach, although somehow, Carp’s warning coming true had sent us both into gales of laughter and left sand in crevices I didn’t know existed. I’d be picking grains out of my skin for weeks to come. I could mark this off my bucket list—sex on the beach was only appealing in Hollywood. The levity of the situation elevated his mood and dropped his guard.
We talked for hours after an epic failure to get rid of the grit on each other’s clothes and scalp. If only he’d been willing to open up before he’d gotten undressed. I could have saved him from making a mistake he’d regret in the morning. And it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the girl he’d loved—and lost. The guilt he would wear when what he did sank in would cling to him like a wet shirt he couldn’t get off.
We’d both known the encounter would be fleeting, even if for different reasons. He escorted me to the pier, and I’d texted Dottie while we walked. I assumed we’d say goodbye and that would be the end. Yet we exchanged numbers, and I saw her headlights coming down the street.