“Mmmm,” I said as I licked at the flavors.
He watched me, his eyes turning heated.
“Want some?” I held it out toward him. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around it the same way I had just seconds before.
He stared at me intently as he drew back, sucking the sweetness as he went.
Pinpricks of desire raced along my skin. “Did you get one?” I asked, my voice taking on a throaty quality.
He reached into the sack and pulled out one identical to mine.
I snatched mine away. “Hey! Eat your own, then.”
He chuckled as we exited the truck with our icy treats and walked to the wooden stairs and long plank-like walkway that led down to the sand.
Even though it was dark, the ocean was still a gorgeous sight. We stood side-by-side just looking out at the sweeping view. It was an endless sea of dark waves capped with white that crashed along the shoreline and rushed toward the beach. White foam floated along the mysterious water, buoyant and free.
The moon had risen just above the water’s edge in the distance and it hung low, heavy, and full, shining a brilliant shade of gold. It reflected off the surface of the water, highlighting a section of the never-still ocean.
The wind blew off the water, and I closed my eyes and inhaled, feeling my hair lifting off my shoulders and dancing behind me as I took in the heady scent that only nature at its best could produce.
Holt slipped his fingers into mine, linking us together and easily leading me down the steps and onto the sand. I kicked off my flip-flops, eager to delve my toes into the gritty softness of the sand. It was still slightly warm from the day’s sun.
I loved the way it crowded around my toes and buried the tops of my feet. Holt took off his sandals too and we placed them on the bottom step and wandered closer to the water’s edge.
We didn’t say anything as we strolled, hand in hand, down the lonely stretch of beach. The sound of the surf filled the silence and the lack of people made me feel as if we were the only two people in the world.
I lifted my chin, gazing up at the millions of stars shining in the sky. Stars always looked more brilliant when standing on a beach. It was because the land here wasn’t interrupted by buildings and businesses, by lights and music. It was darker here, tranquil.
“I needed this,” I told him, catching the tail end of a falling star.
“The beach has a way of making a person feel small,” he replied.
He was exactly right. That’s exactly why I felt better. Because out here, staring out at this giant body of water, at the endless amount of sky, I did feel small—like there was so much more out there than I realized. At home earlier, all I could feel and think about were the problems, the way my life seemed to be caving in. Things seemed so large and insurmountable. I felt like I might never get out from under them.
But not here.
Here I felt like I could breathe. I felt like the wind coming off the waves was carrying away the worst of my worries and the water was going to soak up the worst of my pain. Out here I didn’t feel like my entire world was crumbling. It was here I realized how lucky I was just to… be.
“Your popsicle’s going to melt,” Holt said, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
A large wave crashed against the shore and rushed forward, soaking our feet and making me laugh. “It’s cold!” I squealed, trying to get out of its way and failing.
Holt released my hand to wrap an arm around my waist and lift me up so my feet dangled above the water.
My chest was pressed against his as he towed me along, backtracking out of the waves. I clung to him, laughing, afraid he would drop me and I would plunge into the chilly inch of water.
When we were farther up on the dry sand, he stopped, staring into my eyes while my stomach somersaulted. He closed the mere inches between us, pressing his voluptuous lips against mine in a warm and lingering kiss.
Then he released me to sit in the sand, spreading his legs wide and motioning for me to sit between them. I did, pressing my back to his front and stretching my legs out along with his. I giggled when I saw that my feet only made it to his mid-calves.
I hadn’t realized how cold my skin had turned until he wrapped both arms around me. It was like stepping into a ray of sun on a cold and windy day. His chin rested on the crown of my head and I could feel thin strands of my hair stick to the scruffy area of his jaw.
I concentrated on the dripping treat in my hand, trying not to slurp it too loudly, but then finally giving up and just digging in. When it was gone, I used the stick to trace uneven patterns in the sand between our legs.
“Katie, will you tell me about you?” He spoke closely into my ear so the wind wouldn’t carry away his words before I could hear them.
I leaned into him a little farther, enjoying the feeling of being completely surrounded by him, and tilted my head back, angling it so my words were directed toward him.
“It was just me and my mom for most of my life,” I began, feeling a little awkward because this was the very first time I ever told anyone about my past.
“She never told me who my father was, only that he wasn’t interested in being a father and that I was better off without him anyway. When I was fifteen years old, she was killed in a car accident.” Holt’s embrace tightened around me, but he didn’t say anything or interrupt my words.
“We didn’t have any other family. My entire life had been just her and me. So when she died, I was sent into the system, into foster care. I tried to get emancipated, but the judge said I was too young to live on my own.”
I paused to glance back out at the rolling waves, still using the stick to trace in the sand.
“I moved a lot, usually at least once a year. Sometimes three times a year. There were a couple nice foster families, but the rest seemed like they were tired and wrung out from the system. I don’t know why they continued to foster kids when they clearly were so tired of it. I guess it was for the money, or maybe they just didn’t know how to tell the government they were tired of babysitting. It seemed like every time I moved, I had to give up more and more of my life before Mom died. Keeping all my possessions became a pain to move around and lots of times I didn’t have my own room to keep them in anyway.”
“That sounds like it was hard.”
“It wasn’t the material possessions that were hard to give, but the memories that were attached to them.”
I felt him nod against my head and I continued. “I was shuffled around, lost in the system for three years. I worked everywhere I went. I took on as many hours as I could. I read constantly. Books were my greatest companion and stories my greatest distraction. I saved every penny I had, hoping one day I would be able to have my own life, my own house, somewhere that no one could ever take it away.”