Part 3 (1/2)

There's a beach-themed restaurant called the Sand Dollar Shack right next to the lot where we left the car. I'm quick to discover that their fried shrimp is positively o.r.g.a.s.mic-or at least good enough to make me temporarily ignore the fact that my clothes are sopping wet. Or that everyone at the patio tables around us is staring at me in my dripping jeans like I'm insane. Which, to be fair, I kind of am.

The shrimp comes with what the waitress tells us is their ”secret sauce,” which is both spicy and sweet. I take one bite and then smother my entire basket of fried goodness with the stuff. Ward appears to be digging his crab cakes just as much.

”These are insane,” he says around a mouthful of food. He holds his next bite toward me. ”Try some.”

I lean forward and close my lips around the fork. The crab cake has a spicy tang that sets my entire mouth on fire, but he's right-it's amazing.

”Good, right?” he says.

”Now you have to have some of my shrimp.” I grab one by the tail and hold it out to him. His smile widens as he leans forward, and he eats it right out of my hand. Some of the sauce gets on his cheek, and I start to reach toward him, intending to wipe it away with my finger, but I get a better idea. I lean forward and flick my tongue at the sauce, licking it up.

Okay, so maybe the other customers are actually staring at us because we're all over each other.

This feels almost like a date-a real date, even with the drenched clothes.

I push my wet hair back over my shoulder. It's already curling like crazy and hasn't even seen a good brush in several days, but somehow it doesn't matter that I'm a complete mess. Ward is smiling as he watches me. Suddenly he reaches out and grabs one of my curls. He twirls it between his fingers.

”Are you going to let the blond grow out?” he asks.

”I'm definitely not going to keep it like this,” I say. ”Though I'm pretty sure I'm rocking the dark roots.”

That gets a chuckle, but he keeps looking at me like he expects me to say more.

”Maybe I'll dye it,” I say, suddenly self-conscious. I haven't stopped to think about what I'm going to do with my hair. I'm not sure why, but the decision makes me nervous. ”Maybe I'll go with something closer to my natural color. Or something crazy. Like purple.”

Ward makes a face, and now it's my turn to laugh.

”What's wrong with purple?” I ask. ”I think I'd look hot with purple hair.”

”You'd look hot no matter what color your hair is,” he agrees. ”So if you have your heart set on purple or green or any other color, then go for it.” He reaches out and takes my hand. His face is full of adoration, but the longer he looks at me, the more his good humor begins to seep away. His smile falters, then falls, and he tightens his grip on my fingers.

I tense. I don't like that expression. I don't like it at all.

”We have to talk about something,” he says. ”About what happened out there.” His voice is gentle, but the weight of his words hangs between us.

I want to tell him to stop there, to forget whatever is bothering him. If we don't have this conversation, we can go on pretending that we're on an amazing date together. But I just sit there, frozen and speechless like the coward I am.

”We can't do that again,” he says finally.

Do what? Have amazing s.e.x?

”We have to be more careful,” he continues. ”We can't-I mean, as much as I enjoy...” He closes his eyes and opens them again. ”We have to use protection. Every time. And if we don't have any condoms, then we need to try and avoid temptation.”

Oh.

”I mean, not that I didn't enjoy it,” he rushes on. ”Jesus, I enjoyed it.” His eyes catch mine, and his voice drops low. ”You have no f.u.c.king idea how good that felt.”

I smile. ”I have some idea.”

He squeezes my hand. ”And it's going to be hard as h.e.l.l to resist doing it again. But we have to.” His eyes still haven't left mine. ”I don't want you to end up like my mom.”

Like his mom. Does he mean knocked up and left to raise a kid on my own? Ward won't even let me run away on my own. I can't imagine, even for a minute, that he'd abandon me if I got pregnant.

But this isn't about that, I realize as I study him. It's about his father. He's afraid of being his father.

Guilt surges through me. I know I'm not to blame for Carolson's sins, but I hate that I'm responsible in any way for the expression he's wearing right now. I was the one who suggested s.e.x when we didn't have a condom. I was the one who stripped down and rubbed against him when I knew I didn't have the self-control to stop or pull back. I hate that I put Ward in that situation.

He twists his fingers through mine.

”Come back to me, Lou,” he says softly.

I blink and meet his gaze once more.

”Whatever you're thinking right now,” he says, ”you're wrong.”

I give a rueful smile. ”You have no idea what I'm thinking.”

”But I can guess. I know that look.”

I search his expression, and though I know by now how easy it is for him to read me, it's still a shock to see the truth in his eyes.

”Whatever you're beating yourself up about,” he says, ”you're wrong.”

I shake my head. ”You don't-”

”Whatever it is, forget it,” he says. ”For now, at least. Forget everything but this, right here.” He raises my fingers to his lips and kisses them one by one. His stubble tickles. When he looks up at me again, his eyes are bright. ”At the very least, forget everything but that shrimp.”

I can't help but crack a grin at that.

He's still holding my hand. ”That out there was the most mind-blowing s.e.x of my entire life. I don't want you anywhere but right here with me.”

If he told me he wanted to throw me down and take me right on top of the table, I'd let him.

”I'm here,” I tell him, pus.h.i.+ng every other thought aside.

He gives a satisfied nod. ”Good.”

I can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn't. He holds my hand a little longer, just looking at me, until one of the resident seagulls gets a little too close to our food. We shoo him away, but not before the little thief manages to steal a fry. I laugh as Ward goes after him with a napkin.

By the time we've settled down again-still chuckling at the gull, who's watching us from afar-it's beginning to feel like a date once more. Fun and carefree and romantic. And Ward keeps his eyes on mine, his gaze darkening until the b.u.t.terflies are fluttering in my stomach once more.

I grab another shrimp from my basket and bite off the end.

”So,” I say casually. ”We should probably figure out where we're sleeping tonight.”

”There's a place just over there,” he says, gesturing down the street.

I turn and follow his finger. Sure enough, there's a motel just a block away. It's sea foam green, and the sign has a flamingo on it.