Chapter Six

NOELY

“How can you walk in those things?” Jack asks while staring at my feet. We’re a block from the ocean, his hand still holds mine, and I can already smell the fresh sea salt in the air. The smell is comforting, reminds me of my childhood, of all the days I looked forward to hanging out on the beach with my family.

“You get used to them after a while. Just seems like second nature now. I almost feel weird when I have to wear flats.” I have on my five-inch red pumps that match my dress perfectly. It was a no-brainer as to what shoes and lipstick to pair with the outfit. I’m killing it in red tonight.

“Well, they’re sexy.”

I glance at him and a grin spreads across his face. “Jack, are you trying to hit on me?” I ask in mock surprise.

“Nah, just telling you the truth.”

When we reach the beach, Jack lets go of my hand, squats, and unties his shoes. “Care to join me for some bare feet in the sand?”

Don’t mind if I do.

I kick off my heels and when I bend down to pick them up, Jack snags them from me and tosses them in the bushes along with his shoes and socks. I open my mouth to protest when he says, “I’ll buy you a new pair if someone steals them, but I promise, they’ll be fine.”

“But . . . shoes.” I reach out to them, as if they’re Jack from Titanic and I’m Rose. I want to call out, “I’ll never let go” but my impatient date tugs my hand toward the beach. Mentally, I tell them not to talk to strangers and to keep their heels sharp.

“You grew up in Escondido, so does that mean you went to Oceanside a lot?” Jack’s question pulls me away from my abandoned shoes and toward the ocean in front of me.

I think back to my childhood, my brother and I boogie-boarding along the waves, my parents in their horizontally striped lawn chairs, both reading books, with a cooler between them serving as a mini coffee table. Almost every weekend in the summer we were out on the beach. It’s where I grew up, and honestly, it’s where my heart is—within the wake of the tumultuous waves.

“Oceanside was our beach of choice. We spent many summers along the shoreline, soaking in the sun and the water.”

“We?” We’re walking side by side, strolling slowly over the ground beneath us, making our way to where the tide has wet the sand.

“My family. I have an older brother, and we would spend hours in the ocean on our boogie boards, trying to catch waves and seeing who could ride onto shore the farthest. I never won.” I chuckle.

“Ah. Your big brother never let you win?”

“Never.” I shake my head and push a lock of hair out of my face. The breeze grows stronger as we approach the water, so I’m glad I have my hair pulled back in a low bun or else it would be flying everywhere. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”

“Not too far from you, actually. San Diego.”

“Wow, we were pretty close. Did your elusive business practices bring you to Malibu?”

He chuckles softly to himself and grabs my hand, entwining my fingers with his. “Yes, my business brought me to Malibu. But I also love it here. Always have. My parents used to bring me here to visit my grandparents while they would hit up all the nightclubs in LA. I would spend quiet nights, listening to the waves and eating s’mores while my parents did their thing. They were all about dating each other, even when they were married.”

“That’s sweet.”

He nods. “They are a beautiful example of true love.”

True love, huh. I might just have to add romantic to Jack’s growing list of why he’s so great.

We reach the water’s edge and Jack spins me in place, shocking me until his hand lands on my hip and he pulls me in close. Heat vibrates through my body from how close he is, how his scent is surrounding me, how his hand grips my side with such strength, as if he’s trying to claim me as his, right here in the middle of the beach.

I’m about to ask him what he’s doing when he begins shifting us side to side, leading me to a romantic dance under the glittering stars. The tide rolls in, splashing our bare feet as the sand molds and melts around our toes.

As if what we’re doing isn’t on the top five most romantic things ever, Jack casually asks, “Was it fun growing up with a brother? I’m an only child, and even though I had cousins, my grandparents and my parents gave me their undivided attention. I always wondered what it would have been like to have siblings.”

Loving this moment, this natural and almost raw moment between us, I move my hand so it’s gripping the back of his neck, pulling me in a little closer. “It was nice having someone to commiserate with when our parents were driving us nuts, and when I was younger, it was great to have someone to play with. But our teenage years? Yikes. There were too many hormones flinging around our house. It hasn’t been until recently that we’ve gotten along and a lot of it has to do with my brother’s wife. Alex married someone I adore, so getting together is a lot easier. I guess there are pros and cons, but I know when my parents get older, it’s going to be nice to have someone to lean on, you know?”

“Completely.” When was the last time I simply walked along the beach? As he tells me more about his family, I start to relax even more. He was reticent about business, but thankfully, not about his family. Maybe I don’t have anything to worry about, after all. The hand on my hip moves farther down where it splays out across the width of my lower back, coming close to my rear. And once again, my body heats from my wet toes to my wind-blown low bun.

We dance for what seems like forever until I break the silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

Is it weird how attractive I find it when he’s so direct? Seems like an odd thing to find attractive, but it makes me think he’s a shark when it comes to business—probably ruthless—and for some reason, that’s exciting.

“How old are you?”

His chin runs along my hair as he chuckles close to my ear. “Isn’t that a dating faux pas? Asking someone to reveal their age?”

Pushing away slightly, I look at him and smile softly. “I think that’s only with women, so men don’t count.” Leaning in close again, I continue, “I’m just curious. You don’t look old, but you seem so refined, so put together and important, unlike other men I’ve dated.”

“Is that right?” I shiver and I’m not sure if it was from the way his voice sounds so smooth, so sexy, or from the breeze whipping off the ocean. Either way, Jack notices and breaks our contact. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he removes his jacket and places it over my shoulders, encasing me in his toe-curling scent.

Taking my hand again, he leads me toward the top of the beach where the vegetation meets the sand, and to my surprise sits down, pulling on my hand to join him. Shoulder to shoulder, we sit together, my hand still wrapped around Jack’s with his thumb slowly making lazy circles along my knuckles.

God, that feels so good. So good that it’s raising goosebumps along my skin.

“I’m thirty-one. Not geezer status, but old enough to have experienced some things.”

“Thirty-one, huh?” I bump my shoulder with him. “Man, that’s getting up there.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, might as well start digging my grave now, huh?” He buries his wet feet into the ground and I do the same, feeling the warm sand beneath my toes. “Let me guess, you’re twenty-seven.”

Right on the money. Although I think I should be insulted.

“You know, it’s rude to be spot on about a women’s age. You should always guess five years younger than what you actually think they are.”

“Nah, you’re definitely too sophisticated to be twenty-two. You’re smart, beautiful, and have a great job, so there had to be some wisdom behind your years. Twenty-seven suits you.”

Once again, I’m blushing. How is it possible that this man has made me turn red multiple times in one night? God, what else could he make me do multiple times in one night? From the size of his hands, I’m going to guess some pretty amazing things.

“You’re quite the charmer, Jack. You’re making it hard on me to try to find a flaw.”

“Believe me, they’re there.” He brings the back of my hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my knuckles. His lips are soft, warm, and I desperately want him to press them against my lips.

I’m not a kiss on the first date kind of girl but for Jack, for this man who’s swept me into his little world, I can easily make an exception.

Standing, he helps me up and brings me to where we dropped off our shoes, which causes a pang of disappointment. It hits me harder than expected. I’m really not ready for this night to end. It seems so strange. I only met this man a little over two hours ago, and yet I want more time with him. I want to talk more, to have more time holding his hand, taking in his scent, to listen to the deep rumble of his chuckle.

“Told you your shoes would be fine.” Letting go of my hand, he leans down and picks up our discarded footwear. He sets my shoes upright on the ground in front of me, making it quite easy to slip my feet inside of them after brushing off the sand. Beside me, on the curb, Jack brushes his feet off, ridding the sand between his toes.

Oddly, I take in his feet, how long they are and devoid of hair. His toes are actually nice to look at as well, unlike other men’s feet I’ve seen. I swear I’ve seen some with green toenails, no joke. Jack’s feet are a far cry from gross, they’re actually pleasing . . . sexy.

Hmm . . .

Okay, I might be a little far gone when it comes to this man, because thinking his feet are sexy, that might be going a little far. Although, in my head, I can see him wearing a pair of jeans, unbuckled, no shirt, and barefoot. Can I get an AMEN to that image? Irresistible, right?

I have to see him again, no doubt in my mind. There is something special about him, something I haven’t seen in another man before, something I don’t want to let go.

When Jack stands, I feel myself gravitate toward him, but not wanting to look needy, I let him make the next move, wanting to see where the night takes us.

He puts his hands in his pockets and smirks at me. “Feel like a late-night coffee? There’s a place around the corner that’s quaint and still open. Unless you’re tired—”

“I’m not tired.”

A lazy smile stretches over Jack’s face. I think he feels it too, this connection between us, this electric energy. There’s no denying it. We were meant to meet each other.

“Good, come with me.”

He takes my hand in his and once again, I’m swept away by my very first blind date.

***

“There is no way you did that.”

Jack’s head falls back as his laugh takes over his body, his hand on my thigh in disbelief.

So many things are running through me right now: the intimate setting, a loveseat in the back of the coffee house, Jack’s body almost flush against mine, his hand on my thigh with his thumb stroking my skin. His gorgeous laugh echoes against the small space we’ve taken over in the back of the coffee shop, filling me with such warmth that I feel like my body is about to combust from heat.

“I did,” I confirm. “I wanted to see if Nomar Guirerra was all talk or not, so I accidentally walked in on him in his dressing room.”

“Oh shit.” Jack wipes at his eyes. It’s the first time he’s sworn all night and for some reason, it makes him that much sexier.

Nomar Guirerra is a famous surfer in Malibu who claims to be well endowed. I’ve seen him in a Speedo before, and unless he rolls his ding-a-ling up like a sushi roll, there is no way he’s packing penis. No freaking way. And when I walked in on him in his dressing room, my suspicions were confirmed.

“All I can say is he must be a grower, not a shower.”

Jack’s laugh starts to subside but there is still humor in his eyes. We both finished our coffees twenty minutes ago but we’ve made no attempt to leave. Instead, Jack has moved closer and closer, hence the hand on the thigh.

“Do you gossip much? About celebrities, that is?”

“Not really.” His question kind of throws me off. Am I gossiping? Am I a gossip? With Dylan, yes, but anyone else, usually not. I don’t want word getting around that I tell celebrity secrets, or else I’ll never get anyone on the show. “I have to be confidential with information I learn, because no one likes to talk to a morning show host who likes to gossip.”

“Makes sense.” He nods, still contemplating my answer. “Privacy is important, especially for me. I’ve been burned in the past about my private life being shared and exposed to the wrong people.”

Huh, I wonder if that’s why he’s been so secretive about his business. That would make sense. Does he not trust me? Of course he doesn’t. He barely knows me. For all he knows, I could be some psycho creep waiting to expose him. Wanting to put him at ease, I say, “Don’t get me wrong, Nomar had it coming.”

“The dude is a total tool, I get it,” he answers, sounding a bit off.

“What about you?” I turn a little bit more so we’re facing each other. His hand slides off my thigh, and I miss his warmth instantly. “Are you an office gossip?”

“Not even a little, but that’s probably because I’m so far removed from all the gossip, I have nothing to share.” He chews on his lip for a second and then says, “But if I heard Jimmy John got Peggy Leggy impregnated on the third floor copier, you can bet that beautiful ass of yours, I very well might spread that little tidbit around.”

Beautiful ass? I like that compliment.

But back to what he really said. I scrunch my nose. “Do you really have someone at your office named Peggy Leggy and Jimmy John?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. Jimmy John, Johnny Jim, and Peggy Leggy are names my grandpa used when telling me stories before I went to bed.”

“When you would stay with him in Malibu?”

He nods his head. “Yeah, he used to open up the window in the bedroom they had specifically for me, so I could hear the waves crash onto the shore, and he would tell me a bedtime story. It was something he always used to make up on the spot and it was always about those three characters fighting a potato with red eyes.”

“A potato with red eyes?”

He nods, his lips turned up in humor. “Yeah, my grandpa was very punny and very Irish. So everything was always potatoes and cabbage, even villains in made-up stories. But they were the best stories. I begged him when I was in middle school to write down his stories, to make a potato with red eyes book, something I could read when I wasn’t at their house visiting, but he said it wasn’t something he could write. What made the stories so great were their spontaneity.” Jack sighs and shakes his head. “I wish back then, we had the technology we have today, because I would have recorded him, anything to hear those stories once again.”

Immediately I reach out to him and place my hand on his leg, stroking it softly, my heart breaking from the sadness in his voice. “From the way you’re talking, I take it your grandpa has passed.”

Nodding, Jack takes a deep breath. “When I was a junior in high school. It really messed with my head. He was my best friend, and it about destroyed me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. I just hope one day I’ll be able to retell his stories to my kids while they listen to the waves crash, or at least attempt to.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Jack’s hand covers mine, and he gives me a sad smile. I’m tempted to kiss the sadness right off his face, to make the light come back into his eyes, but I don’t think that’s my place. We’ve had an amazing night, but we’re still brand new to each other, so I refrain.

Taking a look at his watch, Jack’s eyes fill with regret. “I should get you home. You have a morning show to put on in a few hours, and I’m sure you’re going to want to get at least a couple hours of sleep.” Rising from the couch, he takes my hand in his, and we walk past the tables and chairs in the coffee house and out onto the streets.

“Did you take a taxi?”

“Uber actually.”

He nods. “My driver is around the corner. I’m happy to take you home, but I’ll understand if you want to keep that side of your life private still.”

Should I let him take me home? That is kind of a big step, but I also want to spend just a little more time with him. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m pretty close, I don’t mind walking actually,” I say, feeling silly about driving. The only reason I took an Uber was because I didn’t want to sweat in the sun while walking to the restaurant before my date.

Growing tense, Jack shakes his head. “No way am I letting you walk home alone at this hour. I don’t care if it’s Malibu. Can I walk you home if you’re close?”

“I’d like that. It’s really only about five blocks down the street.”

“Five blocks? And here I thought I was showing you around the area.” We start walking in the direction of my house.

“I thought it was cute. I liked it.”

“I like you,” he counters, his eyes trained on me as we continue forward.

Feeling suddenly shy, I keep my gaze forward, as Jack’s jacket is still draped over my shoulders. “I like you, Jack,” I answer on almost a whisper.

God, I want to bury my head in my hands. No matter how old I get, I think this will always be hard, to express yourself in such a vulnerable way. I always think making friends as an adult is hard, but finding someone to spend the rest of your life with, now that’s the ultimate challenge. There’s so much vulnerability. You have to be strong and confident, but when that’s not your personality, when you embarrass easily, it almost feels like torture, trying to communicate with another adult about your feelings.

I just wish it wasn’t such an awkward situation. Hell, even if I watch a fake sitcom couple try to express themselves romantically, I feel uncomfortable.

“You like me, huh? That’s good to know. Does that mean when the app asks you later if you want to go on a second date, you’re going to say yes?” Jack doesn’t skip a beat, and I like that about him.

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?” Jack squeezes my hand, sending a bolt of pleasure up my arm.

“Depends on if you’re going to say yes.”

For a moment, Jack is silent, as if he’s really trying to decide if he’s going to say yes. “There’s no way in hell I would be able to say goodbye to you forever tonight. I not only want to see you again, but I need to see you again.”

A long exhale escapes me. I swear I feel like I’m living in a movie right now. I never really thought men like Jack existed. I always thought they were a fictional character made up in someone’s head. But here he is, in real life, asking to see me again. I can’t say yes fast enough.

“I would love to see you again,” I tell him sincerely.

We exchange a quick glance, both our smiles stretching across our faces. The rest of the walk, we’re silent, and it surprises me how much I like the simplicity of enjoying each other’s company and the feel of our tandem steps and clasped hands.

When we reach the gate to my house, I turn toward Jack and say, “This is it.” I release his hand and hand him his jacket back. The loss of his smell surrounding me, hugging me, sends a bone-jarring disappointment through my body. How creepy would be to ask to keep the jacket?

Creepy.

You’ve known him for a few hours; don’t try to claim his clothing just yet.

Taking in my quaint cottage house, Jack cutely smiles. “It’s beautiful just like you.” When he turns back toward me, he steps forward and cups my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

My breath hitches in my chest from his proximity, from the anticipation of his lips pressing against mine, sealing our night with a kiss.

What I wouldn’t give for that picture-perfect ending. I feel like I’ve experienced his mind, his humor, his spontaneity, now I want to experience him physically, and not just little touches, but something more.

I want to know what he tastes like. What the scruff on his jaw feels like under my fingers, caressing the soft skin on my cheek. I want to tangle my fingers into his short hair, to grip tightly onto his neck, and not release him until I’m fully sated by his mouth.

“I had an amazing time tonight, Noely. One of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

I press my palm over the hand that’s cupping my cheek and rub the back of it with my thumb. “This has been one of my best nights in a long time as well,” I tell him honestly. “I actually can’t remember having this much fun before.”

“I’m glad.” Moving in even closer, Jack leans forward and gently presses a kiss against my cheek and then pulls away, deflating my hopes in the matter of seconds. “Thank you for tonight, Noely. Sleep well.”

Stepping away, Jack puts his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes fixed on mine as I try to comprehend what just happened. No kiss? Did he just kiss me on the cheek, something a friend or mere acquaintance would do?

Stunned, I press my hand against my cheek where he kissed me, and no doubt, look as confused as I am. Hands still in his pockets, he shrugs his shoulders. “All in good time, beautiful. Now get in your house before I do something I regret.”

“What if I want you to do something you’ll regret?” I ask, feeling a little foolish for being so brazen, but also wishing he wasn’t so far away, that he would give me a tiny taste of what I know would most likely be one of the most soul-searing kisses I’ll ever experience.

He takes another step back, as if he doesn’t trust himself. The man must have some strong willpower because right about now, I’m two seconds away from flinging my body at him.

“If I start, I won’t stop. I know myself too well. You’ve consumed me tonight, Noely, and I know if I kiss you, if I feel your lips against mine, there is no way I’d be able to say good night like a gentleman. So, from a distance I will say, thank you for an amazing night. I look forward to our second date.” With a wink, he pulls his phone from his pocket, dials a number, and says, “I’m ready.”

Like magic, a car appears and Jack hops in, his lip print on my cheek the only thing he’s left behind.

Good God, that man is dangerous. Dangerous for all the right reasons.

Our second date can’t come soon enough.