Sidewalk Flower (29 page)

“I do.
 
I’m not so good with intricate things; vests and dresses are a pretty
simple cut.
 
But I’d like to try.”
 
She traced another finger over his shirt and
his chest shuddered below.
 

He should say something thoughtful about
her sewing but all he could come up with was how perfectly her dresses fit her
petite frame, yes, so much smaller than his.
 
If he rolled over, he’d cover her completely.
  

“I just need to measure you again,
properly, or borrow one of your shirts.”
 

To think of her touching his bare skin
like she had in the dressing room, it was more than he could stand.

“Here, you can have this one.”
 
He sat up, letting the blankets fall from
around his shoulders and undid the pearly red buttons.
 
He handed it to her.
 
“It’s yours.”
 

Trista bundled it up into both her hands
and pressed it firmly to her nose.
 
He
wondered what it smelled like to her.
 
It
wouldn’t reek with cologne because he didn’t wear any.
 
Whatever it was she liked about it, she
seemed to enjoy it a lot.
 
Before he
could look away from the sight, his stare embarrassed her.

“Hey, it’s okay.
 
You have no idea how that makes me
feel.”
 
Shirtless, he leaned over and
decided he couldn’t wait any longer to pull her in for a kiss.
 

But as he did so, he caught her shivering
and sprouting goose bumps.
 
Her lips had
turned a light blue around the edges.
 
The color was pretty, he supposed, but in the wrong place and time.
 
And the way she sat there looking at him,
trusting him, reminded him of the lost girl he’d found the day at the
creek.
 
As much as it turned him inside
out to have to call it a night, there was no more horrible feeling than to know
she was uncomfortable, and that she’d never admit it herself.

There was no need since they had the
entire beach to themselves, but he leaned over and whispered to her.
 
“I’d like to take you inside, darlin’.
 
Warm you up.
 
Is that okay?”
  

“Inside, outside, it doesn’t matter,
Lucky.
 
I…I want you.
 
I think I need you that badly.”
 
She shivered.

Whenever she spoke like this it worked on
him in wicked ways.
 
Her raw truthfulness
called out his most heated, basic instincts.
 
But the sadness he knew was the basis for her words chilled him to the
bone.
 
It’s why he was always caught in such
an impossible fix and why he was so hesitant to take things too far.
 
And, he couldn’t trust her to stop him.

He pulled out the two sticks that dangled
from a few of her curls, letting her hair tumble down past her shoulders.
 
The sticks, ivory and black, fell into the
soft sand.
 
He held her face, treasuring
it in his hands.
 

“Trista, I need you to make me a
promise.”

She nodded she would but he feared he
might upset her with what he wanted.
 
It
was too bad.
 
This was something he
wasn’t willing to compromise on, even if it ruined their moment.
 
She brought one of her hands up and laid it
softly against his.
 
“Okay,” she said.

“Darlin’, you are so
doggone
special to me.
 
I have to know you truly
believe that before we take this any further.”
 
He silently vowed to go on and make love to her right then and there if
she’d only make him that one promise.

He wouldn’t let her twist out of his
hold, not to gather her wits and not to turn away.
 
Her neck tensed in his hands.
 
She tried to pivot.
 
He should have known he’d asked the
impossible and he’d pushed her too far.
 
As he decided to free her face, she caught his hand and nodded.
 
“Okay,” she whispered.

But on the heel of her promise, a wave of
surf came hurdling at them, washing through their blankets, soaking him first
and then tumbling up onto Trista.
 
They
hollered together at the icy torrent.
 
Just as they’d caught their breath, two large, round, glowing headlights
pulled up to face them.
   

Lucky quickly stood and pulled Trista up
with him.
 
They huddled and shivered
under the cold wet blankets.
 
The shore
patrolman waved then called out.
 
“Tide’s
rising.
 
I’m advising you to return to your
cabin.”
 

“Yes, sir,” Lucky called back.
 
As soon as the words left his mouth, they
chased each other back up the pier.

The second he stepped foot inside the
cabin, its warmth greeted him from cheeks to toes.
 
He’d seriously underestimated the perfect
weather’s ability to turn downright chilly at night.
 
Trista flipped a switch and magically, two
flickering flames came to life over what appeared to be a wooden log.
 
Only in California
.
 

“What should we do with these?” he asked,
holding the soaked blankets until she unloaded them from his arms and tossed
them in a corner.
 
She seemed upset his
shirt had been ruined as she stood at the kitchen counter, ringing out the
saltwater and then feverishly smoothing out the wrinkles she’d caused.
   

He reached over and laid his hand on top
of hers.
 
“Hey, you know we don’t have to
do this, right?”

“Oh, I just don’t want your shirt to be
ruined.
 
The salt from the water might
set in if I leave it.
 
I just need to
rinse it a few more times and then hang it to dry.”
 

She was rambling because she was
nervous.
 
He wasn’t sure why.
 
Maybe he was seeing the real Trista.
 
The one who hid behind the
“Just one of the guys” and “I’ve seen everything there is to be seen when it
comes to men” talk.
 

“Well, we could just go rinse off
together, if you like.
 
I’ve got sand,
just about everywhere.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

In the bathroom, Trista turned on the
light and opened the shower door.
 
It was
a standing only type with no tub.
 

When you have
the ocean at your feet, this is pretty insignificant
.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes,” she said ahead of a few quick
blinks.
 
He’d watched diligently all
night to see if she’d criss-cross her wrists and she hadn’t done it.
 
Little nerves were normal.
 
That must be what these were.
 
He’d do his best to get her through
them.
 

Slowly, he pulled off his belt and then
undid the waistband of his jeans, nervous as all get out.
 
He’d been staring at her pretty feet when he
let his pants fall to the ground.
 
Admiring her from the floor where she stood, his gaze adoringly rose up
her legs until he spied the bottom hem of her dress and Trista’s fingers
gripped tightly around it, fiddling with the material.
 

Plain as day, she was unsure of
something.
   

“Hey, what’s wrong?
 
Please tell me.”

“I don’t know.
 
I want you.
 
I know you care about me and I feel the same.
 
I just, I feel like I don’t know what to
do.
 
I…”

“Do you need a little help?”

She nodded.

He kissed her gently on the cheek then
pulled away to reach down and grab the ends of her dress in his hands.
 
He lifted it as she raised her arms to allow
it over her head.
 
She let out a big
breath that caused him to pull in on his lower lip.
 

Lord
don’t
let her be afraid of me.
 
Give us plenty of time to do this slowly,
please.
 

Before he could fumble his way to the
back clasp of her bra, Trista hopped into the shower, still wearing her underclothes.
 
Seeing the panic widen her eyes, he quickly
stepped in after her.
 
The thin fabric of
his boxers soaked instantly and stuck to him like second skin.
 
Well, they needed rinsing too, after
all.
 

Honey blonde curls, weighed down by the
pounding showerhead water, streamed down her back until they touched the
waistband of her panties.
 
He couldn’t
help but trail his hand down to where the strands ended.

Standing toe to toe, Trista reached up
and let his ponytail fall loose.
 
His own
wet hair fell annoyingly in his eyes and over his ears.
 
He had to push it back from his face so he
could watch her but she beat him to it.
 
Her hands swiped over his cheekbones like tender magic.
 
She bit her bottom lip, sealing the thought
of how incredibly hot the action was until she pulled down his boxers and he
decided that was hotter.
  
God, he’d been
waiting for this for so long.
 
When she
accidentally let the wet elastic of his waistband snap him, he winced.
 
He handled it, though, and then took in a
breath as she carefully led the material out and over his erection.
 
She glanced downward and then back up with a
snap.
 

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Remember our promise, okay?”
 
Slowly, he undid the clasp of her bra but
held it to her breasts for a moment to gauge her reaction.
 
Her hands tensed at his hips but then her
fingers inched to his back and squeezed his butt.
 
They were okay.
 
He moved down to the thin strings of her
panties, admiring how the water funneled down the pattern of her soft but trim
belly.
 
The shower floor was littered
with their underclothes.
 
The most
amazing feeling came next.
 
When he pulled her to him, the skin of their tummies vapor-locked.
 
In that moment, he felt everything he’d made
her promise she would before letting this happen.
 

Like a king standing before the most
decadent feast, he realized what he wanted most.
 
He wanted to please Trista.
 

Her nipples were the prettiest he’d seen,
a little lighter than he’d imagined, but perfect.
 
He kept his stare locked on hers as he dipped
lower.
 
Looking up into her eyes now, he
opened his mouth and slid his tongue out so she would know what he was
after.
 

“Mmm,” she said so low he barely heard
her.

She blinked but otherwise watched his
every move as he glided his tongue along the side curve of her breast and then
around to the front where he found and teased her beaded nipple.
 
Lord, watching her watch
him
was without a doubt the sexiest experience of his life but he had to finally
close his eyes for the spraying water.
 
When he did, his drive became fierce like a wild animal and he felt like
he could devour her on the spot.

He left her one nipple to taste the other
and nearly sucked in a breath full of water when she cupped herself in her hand
and offered her slick breast to him.
 
It
was hard to breathe but he didn’t care.
 
There were worse ways to die than at the mercy of the woman of his
dreams.
 
He was about to shift them away
from the showerhead when he felt her other hand at the back of his head, urging
him to take more of her into his mouth.
 
There was his Trista.
 
Unashamed to show him what she needed.
 
Lord she was so sexy.
 
The combination of her pressing fingers in
his hair and her breasts pillowing his face while the water showered them sent
a new surge of hunger to his cock, making it jerk and harden all the more.
 
He moaned as he rubbed himself against her
hip.
  

She had to feel exactly how badly he
needed her.
 
Because of his eagerness to
continue tasting the rest of her luscious body, her breast popped from his
mouth when he pulled away.
 
She smiled at
him as he made sure she watched while he sank down to his knees.
 
He trailed his hands firmly along the sides
of her wet body, using her as a guide, until he kneeled on some of their
clothing.
 
It made for a comfortable
cushion which was good because he planned to be there for a while.