Carter saw Reagan’s eyes widen as they pulled up to the hotel. “Carter, this is where all the celebrities stay. I know, because I’ve heard stories about it from my dad.”

He smiled as he squeezed her hand. “It is. But it’s also where we’re staying. The owner bought one of my horses last year and was happy to accommodate us at the last second. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Reagan said with wonder as she took in the palm trees, fancy sports cars, and beautiful architecture of the hotel.

The car pulled to a stop, and sure enough, the owner was waiting for them. “Carter,” he said as they shook hands. “It’s great to see you again. And this must be Reagan. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” she said as she shook his hand. “Your hotel is beautiful.” Carter rested his hand casually on the small of Reagan’s back, and they walked inside while talking horses. The owner was completely smitten with the horse that had started out as nothing more than an investment.

“I was able to get you the room you wanted,” the owner said as they stopped in front of the check-in desk. “Monica, these are my guests for the evening. Make sure they are well taken care of. I’ll be in Kentucky soon. My baby will be racing at Keeneland Race Track in the fall. We’ll have to get together for dinner.”

“I’d like that, and thank you,” Carter said with meaning. If it hadn’t been for his connection with the owner, there would’ve been no way for him to get the last-minute reservation.

“You’re in The Royal Suite. Fifteenth floor and you need to use your key on the elevator before pressing the floor button. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Ashton?” the beautiful blonde behind the counter asked as she handed him the key.

“Yes, can you have a picnic lunch sent out to our car? We’ll be leaving in thirty minutes for the beach.”

“Of course.” She smiled and picked up the phone to place the order as Carter reached once again for Reagan’s hand.

“Now we shop,” he told her. He saw her grimace. Reagan wasn’t a shopper. She was a jeans and T-shirt girl, and he loved that about her. But right now he had the overwhelming desire to spoil her.

Carter led her to the boutique shop that connected to the lobby. The shop was luxury amplified. Crystal chandeliers, beautiful original artwork, and racks of designer clothes ranging from bathing suits to ball gowns filled the shop. Carter saw Reagan nervously eyeing the racks of swimwear, so he had some fun and held up a skimpy bikini as he wiggled his eyebrows. Helping Reagan shop was going to be fun.

“No way,” she hissed. While she was there to pick out a bathing suit, Carter saw that her eyes kept traveling to a gold mini dress in the window display. It would look stunning on her . . . and she would need a formal dress for dinner. Carter pretended not to notice her glances at the dress while they looked through bathing suits as he formulated a plan to surprise her.

“This will work,” she said, pulling out a navy blue bikini. Only this bikini was a halter that covered everything and not the skimpy see through one he’d pulled out.

“Try it on first, then we’ll head up to the room and change.”

As soon as she went into the changing room, Carter called the attentive sales associate over. “Do you have the gold dress over there in a size eight?”

“Yes, I believe we do,” she smiled. If the dress was in the front window, it was going to cost a fortune but it would be worth every dollar Carter spent to see Reagan’s smile later.

“Bill it to my room and have it put in the closet an hour from now.”

Her smile widened. “Lucky lady.”

“No, I’m a lucky man.”

---

What was she doing? Reagan found herself asking that more and more as the day went along. She was in a stunning bathing suit with a price tag higher than her normal hotel room near the airport, and she was staying in a suite in the hottest hotel in Los Angeles.

Reagan pulled a gray Lexington Thoroughbreds football T-shirt over her head as Carter turned around. He wore a white T-shirt with bright royal blue trunks that stopped inches above his knees, revealing tanned muscular legs. They had grown up swimming together. But in the last five or so years, that wasn’t something they did anymore. They were too busy to get everyone together at Will and Kenna’s pool or to go down to the lake like they used to as teenagers. Instead, some of the girls would get together, have some drinks, and lounge by the pool or at a lake house. Seeing Carter ready to swim made her feel self-conscious. He hadn’t seen this much of her in years. Yet, the idea of him stripping off his shirt as water splashed his bare chest was incentive enough to hurry into the room, ready to go.

“Ready?” he asked, picking up a stack of large towels. He held out his hand, and she crossed the large living room decorated with leather couches, comfortable chairs, and fresh flowers to place her hand in his. “Have you been swimming in the Pacific before?”

“Swimming, no. I went to the Santa Monica pier a couple times but never had time to do anything more than stick my feet in the water and grab a bite to eat.”

“Then this is going to be fun. We have the whole afternoon to spend there. It’s a bit of drive to El Matador Beach, but worth it. It’s much less crowded and will be an afternoon to remember.”

Reagan placed her hand in his and didn’t doubt for one second that this afternoon would be remembered for the rest of her life.

---

The car was waiting for them as they exited the hotel. The drive was long, but Carter kept her entertained by pointing out the sights and telling her stories from his previous trips to Los Angeles. Finally they arrived at the secluded beach, exited the car, and stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A massive rock formation stood in the sand, the water lapped at the base of one edge. There were people at the beach, but it wasn’t crowded.

“It’s low tide,” Carter said as the wind blew off the ocean. “The water is on its way out. When the tide turns, the water will come up and crash around the rock formation. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s so peaceful here. I was expecting crowds and the noise of Santa Monica.”

Carter took her hand again and carried the bag with their towels and a picnic basket in his other. They walked over the rough, wild landscape to a set of steep steps leading down the cliff to the beach. “I wanted this afternoon for just the two of us,” he said from over his shoulder before he descended the steps. “That’s why I picked this beach. It’s perfect for couples and out of the way enough to not be too crowded.”

Reagan followed close behind, trying to look at everything as she walked down the steps. There were jagged rocks sticking up from the sand and in the water, along with several secluded nooks and crannies along the cliffs to sit in the sand, away from others. Reagan didn’t ask where they were going as Carter led her past many of the beachgoers sitting near the steps. Carter already told her. He wanted her to himself.

After a five-minute walk, Carter set the basket and towels down on the far side of a rock formation that looked like a ten-foot-tall arrowhead. Reagan lifted her face to the sun and took a deep breath of the salt air. Her body relaxed instantly. It always did when she was outdoors.

When she opened her eyes, Carter was stripping his shirt from his body and tossing it on one of two towels he’d laid out. “Would you like to eat or swim first?”

“Eat! I’m starving,” Reagan said as she kicked off her flip-flops and pulled off her shorts before sitting on the towel. Carter chuckled and opened the basket. Inside were two plates of gourmet sandwiches and a bottle of champagne wrapped in an ice pack. Reagan set out the sandwiches as Carter popped the champagne.

He poured two glasses and handed one to her. “To new adventures.”

Reagan smiled and tipped her glass onto his before taking a sip. This was an adventure she wanted to last forever. At first, when they were walking to their beach hideaway, she was nervous. She didn’t know how to act. Should she try to be perfect and impress him? But as soon as she’d lifted her face to the sun, she’d known she didn’t have to do all the pretending that normally happened on first dates. Carter already knew her. He knew she wasn’t afraid to eat a sandwich in front of him, knew she loved to swim, and knew she would crack sarcastic jokes. They knew each other, and instead of worrying about trying to be the perfect date, she let the worry melt away with the sun and focused on being with her friend . . . her very hot friend.

As they ate, Reagan and Carter talked about their friends, the upcoming football season, and bets they had placed at the Blossom Café for who was next to be married, who would be pregnant, and who Mr. Chapman, the town’s habitual flasher, would surprise next.

Any lingering nervousness vanished as the ocean called to her. “Want to go for a swim?” Reagan asked as she purposefully, slowly pulled off her shirt and folded it before setting it on the towel as if it were a pillow.

She didn’t miss the way Carter’s eyes slowly traveled from her eyes, down to her full breasts, and still farther down before she laughed and embraced her sexuality. “Come and get me,” she taunted before she ran for the ocean. Right then she didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel.

The water was cool as she splashed in the surf. Carter ran behind her, reaching for her, but she laughed as she darted out of his grasp. Reagan shrieked as he chased her through the shallow water until she decided she was ready to be caught. She tossed her head back and laughed as Carter wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up. He carried her into the deeper water. The water lapped her thighs until he reached water deep enough to float with her in his arms. He moved to cradle her instead of dunking her as she’d thought he’d do.

“This is so much better than swimming in the lake,” Reagan said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked out over the Pacific.

“I never had you in my arms at the lake. You fit perfectly,” Carter whispered against her neck as he pulled her closer, but he didn’t press for more. He kept one arm around her back, with his hand wrapped around her rib cage and his other arm under her knees. Unfortunately, he also kept his lips to himself. She floated in his arms for what seemed like forever as the sun shone down on them. She was completely comfortable in the silence because she was with Carter. He was quiet to begin with, and growing up they’d had plenty of these companionable silences while hiking, swimming, or riding. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Reagan laid her head against his shoulder and relaxed completely into his touch.

“Race me back to the beach?” Reagan challenged when she was ready to get another glass of champagne. They’d been racing each other on the backs of horses since they were seven years old, so it was only natural to race back to the beach.

Carter grinned, then tossed her in the water as he yelled, “Go!”

Reagan shoved off the sandy bottom of the ocean and kicked as hard as she could to catch up to him. She almost caught him on the beach, but he turned, grabbed her around the waist, and gently tackled her onto the towels. “I’ll claim my prize later tonight,” he said as he lay half on top of her.

The pressure of his body on hers had her instinctively arching into him. His hand was on her bare stomach and his leg was thrown over hers as he stared at her. Reagan was sure he could feel her heart beating as he looked into her eyes. His fingers dragged softly across her stomach as he moved to lie on his back, removing his hand and leg from her body. Reagan didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or relief from a desire stronger than she’d ever felt before.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” she asked, shielding her eyes and enjoying the heat of the late afternoon sun and the heat of Carter’s body pressed against her side.

“Dinner and then I have a treat for you.”

“I think this whole day is a treat.” Reagan sighed. “What more could there be?”

“It’s something I know you love but would never do back home.”

Sex? Reagan smiled to herself as she wondered what Carter had planned.