Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
After she’d turned down a third helping of lasagna, he tidied up and then said, “Dessert?”
She put a hand to her full stomach. “I don’t think I can manage it.”
He gave her a very wicked grin. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He stepped toward her and began to unbutton her blouse. “Because I was hoping you’d be my dessert.”
While the last of the evening sun streamed into the kitchen, he stripped her naked, hoisted her onto the cool stone of the kitchen island, and proceeded to work a sweet magic more delectable than any dessert.
* * *
Mila woke in Hersch’s bed again. Strangely, she was less freaked out this time and allowed herself to stretch and study Hersch as he slept. He was naked, as was she, and his body in repose was a thing of delight—strong but peaceful, the new sheets twisted around his hard abs as if tying a bow. She smiled and then checked her watch. It was still early—plenty of time to surf. Not because she had to, but just because she wanted to. She felt full of energy, even though her body was languorous from another night of expert lovemaking.
Once more, she tried to creep around and get dressed without waking him, and once more, she failed. He opened his eyes, propped his head on his arm, and said, “You’re up early. Again.”
“Epic waves do not wait, my friend.”
He yawned and stretched and got out of bed too.
“Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
“Can’t. I’m awake now.”
On impulse, she asked, “If you’re up anyway, why don’t you come down to the beach with me?” She held back from asking him to surf, but the implication was there.
The moment stretched, and she could feel his fear fighting with his determination to overcome it. She actually saw him pull in a breath and straighten his shoulders.
He nodded. “Okay. I will. But for the love of God, let me have a cup of coffee first.”
She was so delighted she’d have let him have eggs Benedict before they went surfing, but coffee was quicker. He disappeared into his workout room and emerged with a wetsuit.
Seeing her raised eyebrows, he said, “I got one for my Ironman competitions.”
“Right.” She had to remember that he was a strong and excellent swimmer, that his fear of the water was very new.
She suggested they take one car and head to her place first so she could change into her wetsuit.
As she pulled into her drive, she realized this was the first time he would see her little house. It was much more modest than his, but she loved it. She hoped he would see it the same way she did.
He asked if he could take a look around, then walked through her house, not like someone on a real estate tour, but like someone getting to know a person. He looked at the titles on her bookshelves—a lot of books on surfing and recovering from injuries, on positive thinking and sales techniques. There were a few serious novels in there, too, mostly because Erin pressed them on her, and then Mila would reluctantly start them and find herself so engrossed she couldn’t put them down.
He glanced at her with a laugh in his eyes. “Your bookshelf is a lot like you are.”
“Really?”
“Sure. A lot of lightness on top, but some deep, serious stuff underneath. And always a belief that everything will turn out right.”
She thought that was a pretty accurate description of her personality, and was impressed at how he’d pegged her so soon.
He rocked back on his heels. “The house suits you too. A lot of character, and it’s as much a part of Carmel-by-the-Sea as you are.”
Again, she was charmed by the way he’d phrased that. “The best view’s in my bedroom.”
He looked quite pleased to be invited into her bedroom. As they walked in together, and she saw it through his eyes, she said, “Of course, if you bought this house, you’d brick that window up so you didn’t have to look at the view.”
He winced. “Give me credit. I’m trying to get better.”
She touched his shoulder, then gripped it reassuringly. “I do.” As if to reassure him further, she gave him a steamy kiss, which made her want to rip his clothes off and push him onto her bed, but she stopped herself. It was time to surf and time for Hersch to get back in the water. The hot sex could come later. She picked up a board for her and asked if he wanted one.
“No board. If I get in above my ankles, I’ll call today a win.”
She agreed, understanding how important this was for him. She changed into her wetsuit right there in the bedroom, and he did the same. With some satisfaction, she noticed their kiss had aroused him as much as it had her. Then they headed out to the beach.