I started to stand up straight, but he covered my hand with his hand and gestured with his eyes to the booth seat beside him. "Sit down."
What he'd told me at Martini's flashed through my mind: You want to be higher than the suspects, talking down to them. Right now, I was talking down to him. If I sat, he'd be talking down to me.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled. Both dimples showed.
I sat down.
He squeezed my hand and leaned closer. I felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of his cologne. "I want to show you something," he said.
"Thanks, but you've shown me plenty." I tried to back out of the booth.
He held me in place with his hand on mine. "No, nothing like that. Something different. Something good."
So John finally wanted to show me something good, huh? I let my eyes travel from his strong neck down to the T-shirt covering his broad chest. I could think of several sights that would qualify. "Like what?"
"The beach."
Fighting the sudden urge to cry, I pulled my hand out from under his and sat back. I pointed at him, as he'd pointed at me with his pen in the cop car one night. "Don't tease me."
"Miami's too far, though. I have to work tomorrow night. I was hoping you'd settle for the Redneck Riviera."
Of course I would settle for the Florida Panhandle. With John. And of course he couldn't be serious.
And of course I couldn't go, anyway. "I have to be back before you do, for my shift at six a.m. tomorrow. And don't tell me you forgot about the diner. You were kind enough to remind me this morning."
"No, I haven't forgotten. I figure it will take us five hours to drive down there—"
"Three, if you let me drive."
He cleared his throat and gave me a stern look. "It will take me five hours to drive down there and five to drive back. That leaves you six hours of spring break."
I was beginning to think he was serious. "When will I sleep? I have to sleep before work tomorrow."
"You can sleep in my truck on the way down, and on the way back."
"When will you sleep?"
"I've been asleep for the last seven hours, and I'll sleep again when you go to work tomorrow morning." He leaned back in the booth and tapped his fingers on the menu. "Next argument."
I hadn't slept since yesterday, right after my run and my conversation with Tiffany about the possibility of her becoming a slut-whore. And right before I almost slut-whored myself to Eric again. It seemed like a year ago, but nothing in the diner had changed. Same bright afternoon sunlight slanting through the front windows. Same secondhand tables, same kitschy saltshakers.
The only remarkable thing was John, still drop-dead gorgeous and hunky, but in a teenager's clothes.
Officer After, transformed into a boyfriend.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" I asked.
He took my hand again and whispered, "No sudden change of heart."
"You mean, this morning, you already intended to invite me to the beach?"
He nodded.
I pulled my hand away and whacked him on the chest. "Then why'd you act like you hated me?"
He grinned. "You've said you don't plan. I didn't want you to stand me up."
"You mean you were manipulating me?"
He touched my bottom lip with one finger. "Just say yes."
I lost myself in his dark eyes. "Yes."
Bonita had come in by then. I asked her to serve John steak and eggs with steamed vegetables while I ran to the trailer and took the quickest shower of my greasy spoon career. Suddenly my career had sped up, with my pulse.
I pulled on clean jeans and the skimpiest shirt I owned, which was saying a lot because I owned some fine examples. As I saw it, the occasion called for cleave and even belly button. I paused for a split second in front of the mirror and wished for the umpteenth time this week that my hair wasn't blue, but I was already on my way out the door.
*
"I know what you're thinking, and I want you to plan for once," John called over the noise of the surf. "It's going to be a long ride back in wet underwear."
Uncanny, how he'd known I was thinking of plunging my whole body into the water, clothes and all. The cold night back home had lifted for the warmest day of the year so far. Florida was even warmer. And even though the ocean was still cool, I longed to experience it in every way I could, for the short time it was mine.
But John was right, as usual, damn him. "You keep your mind off my underwear," I said. Actually, I was delighted to have him think about my underwear.
My face must have given me away, because he took my hand.
We sloshed together through the waves, with our jeans rolled up past our knees. When we'd first gotten here half an hour before, the sun was still up over the dark blue ocean. I had heard the Gulf Coast had the world's whitest beaches, but I hadn't expected them to be this white. They weren't paper-white, but just off—the color of John's hands.
Now the beach was tinted pink, the clouds and ocean glowed neon pink, and a huge orange sun sank in the violet sky. Every time I glanced at John, I expected to look back at the sunset and discover it had been a figment of my imagination. Of course, every time I glanced at the sunset, I expected to look back at John and find he'd disappeared.
He swung my hand as we splashed along. "It's so beautiful that I wouldn't know how to begin to draw it."
"You've drawn the Matterhorn, John. I'm sure you'd manage a Florida sunset."
"This one is special. It would be hard to convey how jarring and in-your-face it is." He turned to me. "And still so beautiful."
I smiled back at him, choosing to tune out the jarring part and listen to the beautiful part. "Besides, where would you put the elephants wearing hats?"
"I think I put those in because I'm not confident in my art. Other people aren't as likely to judge me if I already have elephants wearing hats in the drawing, judging it themselves."
"You know what might help that problem?"
The light had faded to the point that I couldn't make out his hard, dark eyes. I was glad. "A college education in art?" he asked flatly.
"No. Drawing nothing but the bridge over and over. There are no judgmental creatures in your drawing of the railroad bridge."
We walked on in our silence underneath the roar of the ocean. I waited for him to get revenge.
Here it came. "Something's been bothering me since I found out you had leukemia. Your parents stuck with you through it. Doesn't that make you feel like you owe them?"