Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(5)
“Hi, Tristan!” She waved and called out. “I’m not late, am I? You look like you’ve been waiting a while.”
I grinned and shook my head, opening the passenger door and getting into the car. “No, not at all.” I winked at her, purposefully stretching out my gaze because I liked the way she smiled.
“Oh, good,” she said, her warm smile stretching all the way across her face. “The beach is probably going to be crowded today because it’s Saturday and it’s really nice out, but there’s a little secluded area where Kari and I like to go to that’s less likely to be packed with sorority girls or screaming kids.”
I looked across at her. She was just as pretty as I remembered her from the night before and that’s not always been the case when I’ve had a few drinks. “Sounds perfect; I could do without both of those things today.”
She looked over at me and laughed. I noticed how her eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was something I hadn’t noticed before. And her laugh, it was like music to my ears. “You and me both, England. Let’s get this show on the road.” Ginny pulled her sunglasses down on her face again and pulled off.
I teased her about the country music she was listening to when suddenly she swerved out of the way of a black car speeding down the street towards us. She yelled out, “Damn! Jerk!” and I had to stifle my laugh.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, watching her face turning pink while I had the biggest grin on my face. She was so feminine, so real, a breath of fresh air, even when she was yelling at cars in the street.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry for that outburst.”
“You know why people drive crazy here?” I asked her, chuckling to myself.
“’Cause they’re idiots?” she replied with a sly smile.
“’Cause they drive on the wrong side of the road,” I replied, holding back a laugh.
“Hey! You guys are the wrong-side drivers!” she laughed.
It didn’t take us long to get to the beach, and the drive had been pleasant. With all the teasing and laughing going on, there was no awkwardness between us, even though we’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours. It felt good to be comfortable with someone without trying too hard, and it was even better when they didn’t try too hard. Granted, she didn’t know I came from money, but the hotel I’d been staying at was one of the swankiest in the city, so she may have figured something out, but she didn’t ask and I wasn’t about to tell her.
Chapter 3 — Ginny
I felt like a total fool yelling at the speeding car, especially with Tristan beside me, but it did scare the crap out of me. That’s all I needed—to get in a wreck with this hot English hunk on the last day he was here.
I cruised around the parking lot, hoping to find a spot near the secluded part of the beach, but to no avail. After a few minutes, we finally found a space and parked. I got out and grabbed my beach bag from the trunk of the car. I’d brought enough food and drinks to last us all day. Well, I was hoping it would last us a while. I really wanted to spend some time with him. There was something about Tristan that piqued my interest, and that hadn’t happened in a really long time. He grabbed the blanket, both of the folding chairs, and the umbrella.
“You come prepared, don’t you?” he said as he put the heavy beach bag in his teeth and maneuvered the chairs and umbrella under his arms.
I had to laugh. I took the beach bag out of his mouth and said, “I’ll get that, don’t be so silly.” I closed the trunk and closed the roof so I could lock it down. “Come on, it’s right over here,” I said, motioning him to follow me.
“Are you sure you don’t have the bloody kitchen sink in there?”
I giggled again, I couldn’t help myself. He had a way of making me do that. I honestly felt like a teenager. “Always prepared — and no kitchen sink. I’ve been coming to this beach since I was a little kid, so I know how to prepare. You do not want to be at the beach without the essentials.”
Finally, we made it to a quiet little spot. The sun was bright, but it was peaceful, and once we’d set up the blanket and umbrella, it was all cool ocean breeze and shade. He quickly crawled up under the umbrella and slid his t-shirt over his head.
“Scared of the sun?” I teased, and I couldn't help noticing that his pecs were covered in colorful tattoos.
“I’m English,” he said. “It rains for half of the year over there. I’m not used to this wonderful, yet scorching, sunlight you Californians seem to thrive on, and neither is my skin. I’d like to make it back to London without contracting skin cancer, if it’s all the same to you.”
That didn’t do anything to stop my giggling, “Is that why you’re all so grumpy over there?” I asked with a bright grin. “Not enough sunlight?”
“We aren’t grumpy! Plus, too much sun can drive a person mad, you know.”
“That would explain a lot, actually. So, what’s up with all the tattoos? They look nice.” I ran my fingers across a tribal design he had on his upper arm. “Do they mean anything?”
“Thank you,” he smiled, “and honestly, they don’t mean anything more than I’m a bad boy. Rebel child, if you will.” Then he pretend-snarled at me, flexing his muscles like the Hulk or someone, and I laughed so hard I fell over onto the blanket.