by Krista Lakes
“Look what I saved: The environment!” he exclaimed. His smile was as bright as the sun as he stumbled out of the water and back onto the sandy beach.
“My hero!” I cooed, batting my eyelashes up at him. He grinned even broader.
“I used to play with these all the time. I made the best sandcastles,” he said, turning the bucket and shovels over in his hands. I could see a multitude of happy memories shining in his eyes as he played with the toys.
“Me too. I once made one with my dad that could have won a castle-building contest,” I said.
Noah grinned at me. “You wanna make one now?”
There was no way I was going to say no. The glint in his eye, the smile, the easy way to get to spend more time with him. Tourist or not, I liked him and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to build sandcastles with a handsome man. Besides, it was my day off.
“Only if we can fill the moat with actual water.” I crossed my arms, pouting my lips like the moat was a deal breaker.
“What kind of castle would it be without a water-filled moat?" he responded with mock seriousness. I grinned with childlike delight, hurrying over to a sandy spot where we could start building.
I kicked off my shoes, digging in the sand with my hands and feet to start building the foundation for our sandcastle. Noah dug up buckets of wet sand and dumped them in a pile next to the foundation. He moved like an excited kid. Every motion was exaggerated yet purposeful, but it was the grin plastered to his face that told me he was enjoying himself.
Once I had the base for the castle smooth, Noah spread wet sand across it and then used the bucket to pack it down. It took us a couple of minutes, but a strong foundation would make the castle last longer.
I went to fill the bucket with sand, carefully turning it over so that it would maintain its shape. I went to fill another, but Noah gently grabbed the bucket from my hands.
“The secret to a sandcastle is to build down, not up.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “If we build down, then we won't risk knocking it over, and it's far more stable.”
“Are you secretly a prize-winning sandcastle artist?” I asked, the idea making more sense as I thought about it. If we made a big pile of sand, packed it down, and then started shaping it, the sandcastle wouldn't fall apart because it was already solid.
“Only on weekends,” Noah teased.
Together we piled the wet sand on the center of the foundation, packing it down with our hands and giggling as our fingers touched. It was impossible not to run into him working as closely as we were. Our hands would brush as we packed the sand down; our knees would bump against each other as we reached for more sand; our elbows would knock together as we piled the sand higher.
“If we make a tower here, and a door here,” Noah explained, pointing to the lumpy sand with his hands. His eyes were bright as he imagined the castle in his mind and used his hands to explain it to me.“Then we can build this part up and make it last longer.”
“You sound like an architect,” I said with a smile. He gave me a grin that melted my heart. It made him even more attractive that he was excited and involving me.
“I've always had a thing for architecture. I never went to school for it, but in my spare time I like to design things. It isn't what pays the rent, but it's something I enjoy.” He turned back to the castle and started to use his hands and the shovel to create the basic structure of the castle.
I watched him for a moment before joining in, admiring the surety of his hands. I had a feeling not many people got to see this side of him. Creative. Happy. He practically glowed with enthusiasm as he guided the sand into a beautiful castle.
“Help me hold this here,” he said quietly. He put my hand on the wet sand, his direct touch sending an electric shock of desire straight down my spine. The ache of pure want grew in the pit of my stomach, filling my body with heat. If his hand could have this kind of effect on me, I wanted to know what other parts of his body could do.
Noah didn't seem to feel the same shock, but then, I was concentrating on the castle and not looking at him. I was afraid my blush would give me away if I looked at his face.
“There,” he said softly, releasing my hand. “All done.”
The ache didn't leave my core. In fact, with the removal of his hand, it grew stronger. I wanted him to touch me again. I needed him to touch me again.
Noah leaned back, examining his work. The castle was almost finished. It wasn't elaborate or immense, but it was beautiful with clean lines and simple towers that reminded me of a princess's castle. It looked like something Sleeping Beauty would be glad to claim as her own.
“It's gorgeous,” I said. Noah grinned.
“You have some sand on your cheek,” Noah replied, reaching a hand out to wipe it away. His fingers were gentle and warm against my face as he gently brushed the tiny grains from my skin. I shivered slightly, the heat in my core growing again.
Noah didn't pull his hand away once the sand was gone. His eyes focused on mine, pulling me deep into the pools of blue that led straight to his soul. His fingers caressed the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I met him halfway, winding my arms around his neck. His mouth slanted over mine, joining us together as if we had always meant to be. The kiss stole the air from my lungs and filled my body with light. My chest tightened and burned with a need that wasn't just physical. I wanted to dive into him like an ocean.
His tongue found mine, sending a bolt of hunger through me that was so strong I wasn't sure I'd survive. He tasted better than I could have imagined. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me into him. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
The sand was coarse beneath my knees in a beautiful contrast to the silkiness of his lips. My body was afire with sensation but totally focused on his kiss. The sun was warm against my hair, the sand rough against my legs, the ocean sighing in pleasure, but all I cared about was the warmth of Noah's lips against mine. The way his hands pressed into my hair, drawing me nearer to him.
Noah's phone began to ring. It buzzed in his pocket like an angry hornet while making an annoying old-school telephone ring. One hand released my head and slipped into his pocket to silence the intruding sound. The phone was only quiet for a moment before returning to it's incessant noise.
Noah tipped his face away from mine reluctantly, releasing me so he could fumble in his pocket to make the phone stop. I struggled to breathe and regain my senses. His kiss was overwhelmingly good. He pressed the screen of his phone, grumbling under his breath before reaching for me again. I wanted to kiss him again, but as soon as his fingers touched my skin, the phone began to vibrate.
“I think someone wants your attention as much as I do,” I whispered. The spell of the kiss was broken.
“It's just work. They don't seem to understand that I'm on vacation,” he whispered back, stealing a kiss on my cheek. “If I don't answer them, they'll just keep calling. I have a feeling I need to go attend to some business. I'm sorry. It'll probably take a while.”
“How do you have cell service out here? You must be good friends with Jack Saunders to afford those roaming fees,” I said, the idea suddenly hitting me. Cell service for non-locals was ridiculously priced.
Noah waved his hand through the air. “It's not that bad.”
I raised my eyebrows at him and cocked my head to the side. I knew those rates were outrageous. “You're not fooling anyone with that. 'Fess up. You're at least a little more successful than just a bartender to the billionaires.”
Noah laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Maybe. Maybe stealing phone minutes is just one of my many talents.” He smiled. His blue eyes sparkled at me and the corners of his lips begged to be kissed again. I leaned forward, wanting to kiss him again, but the phone buzzed just a second before our lips could touch.
“I think your phone is trying to defend your honor,” I said, sitting back on my heels. Noah glanced at the screen but didn't answer it.
&nb
sp; “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?” His question took me off guard. I was expecting a quip, not a date proposal. Besides, I had promised myself no more dating tourists.
“You already bought me breakfast...” I stalled. I wanted to see him again, but I didn't want my heart broken when he left.
“Yes. I guess I'm going about it backwards. It's usually dinner then breakfast.” He gave me a naughty wink and I couldn't help but blush slightly at the innuendo. “So, dinner?”
I didn't want to date a tourist again. I knew we were going to have a great time, that I would love to be in his company- that I craved his company- but I didn't want to get attached. He was leaving. He wasn't permanent.
I looked up at him with every intention of saying no. Even after that mind-blowing kiss, especially after that kiss, I needed to stay away from him, or I was going to fall hard. But as I looked into his sky-blue eyes, his smile forced my mouth from the “no” shape to “yes” shape.
“Yes. All right. Dinner,” I stuttered. He was just too damn cute to say no to.
Noah beamed. “Excellent! What would you like to eat?”
“You mean you didn't have that planned already?” I teased. He hit the quiet button on his phone again.
“Nope. Just knew that I wanted to see you again today. Dinner seemed like a good reason. Anything you want?” He focused those blue eyes on me again, and I felt my temperature rising. Anything I wanted? I wanted him.
“Anything I want, huh?” I thought for a moment, but my brain just wasn't on food. “I want your favorite food.”
Noah's dark brows came together in a question. He ran a hand through his dark hair as he clarified, “My favorite food?”
“Yup.” I nodded.
“What if my favorite food is anchovy pizza with mustard sauce?”
“Then I will be eating pizza crusts for dinner tonight.” I gave him an impish grin.
“You know I'm half-tempted to do that now, right?” Noah's blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Please don't! That actually sounds terrible, and I would like to eat tonight.” I put my hand on his and my heart jumped in my chest.
“Okay,” Noah said with a grin. “How does seven sound?”
“Works for me,” I replied, going over my schedule in my head. No other plans for tonight, and Brooke would be busy with tagging her sharks.
“Where can I pick you up?” he asked, silencing his phone again.
“How about the parking lot of Adele’s?”
“What? You don't want to give me your home address? Are you afraid I might be a serial killer?” Noah narrowed his eyes as though he were serious, but his voice told me he was still playing.
“No, I don't want to give my roommates a reason to point and laugh.” I remembered the last tourist I had pick me up. The wolf whistles from the boys had followed us out into the street, and that was after Brooke had questioned his motives and made sure he had appropriate protection.
“So, you're embarrassed by me?” Noah gave a pretend pout.
“No!” I exclaimed and then took a breath. “I'm embarrassed of wolf whistles and embarrassing stories. My coworkers are like family and they think it's funny whenever I go out on a date. It took them two weeks of teasing before they realized that I was actually working at the bar and not just getting dressed up for fun.”
“They sound charming,” he said with a laugh.
“I love them, but they've decided that I'm their innocent little sister. They like to tease, but they're also very protective of me. They're like the older brothers I never had.” I shook my head and smiled. “I'm really just saving you from interrogation.”
“I don't know, I could go for some embarrassing stories of you,” Noah said thoughtfully.
I punched his arm. “You have to earn those stories. I don't let just anyone hear them anymore.”
“They must be good.” Noah shot me a wolfish grin, and I could feel the blush heating my cheeks. Luckily, the buzz of his phone saved me. “They're starting to get desperate.”
He hit "silence" once more and then brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and back behind my ear. In a graceful motion, he leaned forward, letting his lips graze the tender patch of skin at my temple in a gentle kiss. “I'll see you at seven.”
I nodded, flood of want coursing though my stomach and stealing my words. Noah somehow had the ability to remove any coherent thought in my head and send my insides tumbling in the most pleasant way. I found myself wishing it was already dinnertime.
Noah stood and brushed the sand from his board shorts before giving me one last grin. If I hadn't been sitting, my knees would have gone weak at his smile. I waved as he turned, finally answering the phone with a curt greeting.
I watched him walk down the beach, checking out his perfect ass the entire way. In addition to being tall, dark, and handsome with eyes that could make a harpy melt, he also had a fantastic ass. He was as close to perfect as I could imagine.
I turned back to the sandcastle and put the last finishing touches on it. A few shells, some seaweed pennants, and finished digging the rest of the moat. I snapped a picture of it on my camera, wanting to save this sandcastle forever. It was perfect.
The waves were starting to creep up the beach with high tide. I dug the moat a little deeper to try and fend off the approaching waves, but I knew sandcastles were temporary. That was part of the beauty of them. They were only there for a short amount of time.
I stood and walked away, heading home. I didn't want to see the waves destroy our work. I knew that the sandcastle was the perfect metaphor for whatever was going on between Noah and me. Beautiful and amazing, but destined to fall apart. He was a tourist, and tourists leave. That's just what they do.
Sandcastle Kisses: Chapter 8
I set the curling iron down and checked my handiwork. Beautiful, bouncing ringlets graced my head, but I knew that the second I stepped out into the tropical air they would go flat. I shook my head slowly at myself in the mirror. Even though I knew it was going to be straight by the time I got to the parking lot, I had gone to the trouble. Noah just had that effect on me. I wanted to look good for him.
“Oh, pretty,” Brooke said, poking her head in the bathroom door. We shared the small bathroom and technically the curling iron was hers, but with the tropical humidity she had stopped trying to curl her hair after the second day. “So, who's the date with?”
“What makes you think I have a date?” I asked, glaring at her in the mirror.
She shot me a cheesy know-it-all smirk “Because you don't curl your hair for bartending gigs.” Her smile widened. “And because you have been humming a Disney princess theme song for the past thirty minutes.”
I scowled at her and she laughed. I put my makeup box carefully away before turning to face her. “Don't tell anyone, okay? I don't need Lucas giving me a hard time again.”
Brooke laughed and stepped out of the door to let me back into our shared bedroom. She ran and jumped onto her twin bed in the corner, tucking her legs under her once she landed. One of her tabloid magazines slid off the bed and landed on the floor, but she just ignored it.
“Your secret's safe with me.” She held up her hand as though she were swearing in at a courtroom before a grin covered her face. “Now, who's the guy? Local or tourist?”
I went to the closet and pulled out my favorite light blue sundress. It was strapless and had a lacy bottom that made my legs look longer than they were. Brooke, with her amazing fashion sense, had picked it out for me at one of the tourist clothing shops. I loved it. It was the perfect dress to wear on my date.
“Well, you know what Lucas likes to call me...” I told Brooke as I carefully slid the dress over my head and dropped the bath towel.
Brooke squealed with delight and clapped her hands like an excited child. “Oooh, a tourist then!”
I rolled my eyes at her once they cleared the dress.
“Are you sure that's such a good idea? I mean, after the last one.
..” Brooke's smile faded, replaced by concern. “I just don't want to see you get hurt again.”
I sat down into the small desk chair next to my bed and looked at her. “I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want to get burned again, but he makes my insides go all mushy just looking at him.”
Brooke nodded thoughtfully before moving from the bed to stand behind me. She began to mess with my hair, pulling it up and away from my face.
“Then don't get burned,” she said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “Know that you're walking into the fire, so wear your protective gear,” she said. I turned and raised my eyebrows at her and she giggled. “That came out way dirtier than I had intended.” Brooke placed a clip in my hair to keep it out of my eyes. “But what I mean is, go enjoy your date. But don't get attached. Know that this is just for fun. You are the one leaving him at the end of this, okay? Not the other way around.”
“You don't think I'm an idiot then?” I asked her quietly as she finished messing with my hair.
She stepped forward so that she could look me straight in the eye. “No. You just love too easily.” She smiled to soften her words. “Besides, have you seen the men I've dated?”
I giggled. Brooke went through boyfriends like water went through a sieve.
“Listen,” she said, kneeling in front of my chair. “If he makes your insides mushy, then he's got to be good-looking. If he's a tourist on this island, then he's got to be rich. Good looking and rich? Enjoy him. Just make sure you have a little fire jacket around your heart this time.”
“Fire jacket?” I asked.
“You know what I mean,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “Though the other kind is good to have too.”
“So, don't fall in love with him. Just enjoy his company,” I summarized and Brooke nodded. I picked up my purse and put on my cute heels.
“There is a third part to this as well,” she said, her eyes dancing.
“What?” I racked my brain trying to think of what else she could add on that would be better than a 'little fire jacket.'