Cinderella in the Surf (22 page)

"What, like a present or something?" I ask coyly.

"You could say that."

"Show me!"

He laughs. "Take it easy. Is this all it takes to get you to smile around me again? Bring you presents?"
 

"It's a start," I tease.
 

Walker sets the bag down on the ground and kneels in front of it, and I study him as he moves, and it makes my heart hurt, watching him now.

Why
is it so easy with him? Why can't it be terrible and hard and not worth making an effort at all? Why does the sight of him still make my insides go a little tingly like they've been zapped with electricity?

Because I meant what I said the other night.

"I started this before -- well, before," he says, and I know exactly what he means. "I wasn't going to give it to you after what happened, but it didn't look right sitting in my room. It belongs to you."

I don't say anything as he slides one of the canvases I saw on the boat a few weeks ago out of the bag. It's the brightly-colored one, with the reds, oranges and yellows.

It's finished now.

And it's beautiful.

"That's the canoe," I say lamely, and he nods, looking nervous as he holds it up for me to look at.
 

"You said how much you love it and I kind of thought it'd be nice to have something like it with you all the time. Sorry if I crossed a line or something. I don't want to step on your memories with Alex, but -- "

"No, stop, hush, you're ruining it," I tell him, unable to take my eyes off the painting. "You did this. You."
 

"For you."

"It's perfect," I whisper. "Perfect."

Walker has to act fast to get the canvas out of the line of fire because I'm suddenly running toward him and flinging my arms around his warm, comfortable, familiar body. He hugs me back and when I press my lips against his, he returns the kiss, slow and sweet at first, but deeper and hungrier later.

"I can't give you what you deserve," I say when his mouth moves away from mine. "I meant that."
 

Walker presses his finger against my lips. "But you give me everything I need."
 

I stare into his green eyes. "Is that enough for you?"

He doesn't say anything for one horrible, long minute, but then his face breaks into the smile I've come to love so much. "Rachel, as long as you're with me, I don't care about anythin' else." He pauses. "Do you remember when you asked me if I think one day can change everything and I said no?"

I nod. "And I told you that you were stupid."
 

He smiles. "You were right. Because the day that changed it all for me was the day I hit you in the face with the frisbee. It's never been the same since then."
 

And then I'm falling into his kiss one more time.

Maybe we're not perfect. Maybe it's going to take some time for me to truly open up to Walker the way I want to, but now I know, I'm nothing if I don't try.

But if there's something I'm absolutely certain of, it's that when I'm with Walker, one thing is true:

I've never felt more alive.