“Hmm...” He frowned and nodded. “Good point.”
“How about I take you on a tour of the research pools sometime? You can see a baby shark, and it won't bite you,” I offered.
“Baby sharks just bite you, then?” he asked with mock seriousness.
“Only when you are tagging them and they're mad at you,” I said with a smirk.
“Sounds good to me.” He grinned at me and then followed my gaze out the window to the woman in khaki shorts.
“Let's get out of here,” he said quickly, throwing a fifty dollar bill on the table. Our bill couldn't have been more than thirty dollars even with a generous tip, but I knew Adele wouldn't mind the extra money.
Noah grabbed my hand, a grin spreading across his handsome features as he pulled me out the restaurant and back toward the beach.
Chapter 7
Noah didn't drop my hand as we walked out of the restaurant. He didn't drop it as we walked out of the town square, or as we meandered down the pathway leading to the beach. I wasn't about to let go either, even though I could feel mine going sweaty and hot. I didn't want to lose our connection.
We crested a small hill to the beach, and I could see the ocean laid out before us. The golden sunshine sparkled on the waves, the white light almost too bright to look at. We stood there for a moment, hand in hand, staring out at the waves.
“How long are you in town for again?” I whispered. I had been thinking the words since we met, but I hadn't found the courage to say them until now. Despite my best intentions, I liked Noah. Really liked him. But he was a tourist and was going to leave as soon as his vacation was done. It was better just not to get attached. I didn't let go of his hand, though.
Noah stared out at the water for a moment before answering, his eyes distant and his voice quiet. “Just a couple more days. I really only came for the party last night.” He turned and smiled gently. “You can't say no to a Jack Saunders party.”
“He would definitely be a hard man to say 'no' to.” I turned to look out at the water again. I loved the way the blue of the sky melded with the blue of the water, obscuring the horizon. I wanted the ocean to go on for forever, and I liked the illusion that it did.
Noah suddenly disengaged our handhold and took off for the water. He sprinted across the sandy beach and ran into the foam of the waves. I hurried after him, afraid he had seen something that needed rescuing. Dolphins had been known to wash up on shore, or even exhausted swimmers.
When I caught up to him, he held up a small bucket with various plastic shovels attached to the handle. They were just cheap, plastic beach toys, but he held them up in victory as though he had rescued a mermaid.
“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.