We watched each other quietly.
Washed one another softly.
Played footsies beneath the water.
It was innocent. Mostly.
Because there was no rush.
Not anymore.
And there was less pain.
Than before.
When we went to bed there was nothing between us. No doubts. No guilt. No clothes. Wrapped around one another.
The first night with no nightmares. No tossing and turning. No quiet crying Shy didn’t know I’d heard, aching to comfort her.
****
I busted into Passion for Fashion a few days later in the middle of a blazing hot September afternoon just as Shy swung around the long counter decorated with all kinds of perfectly highlighted accessories.
She was still unable to use her prosthetics, and I knew how much she hated the crutch things in public, but she wouldn’t let that stop her.
In fact, the woman was planning on opening another store in Mt. Pleasant with the same charitable business plan.
As well as helping me get the brewery up and running.
I’d never met anyone so unstoppable before.
Pulling her to me with an arm around her waist, I held her steady against me. Slowly lowering my mouth to hers, I twirled my tongue inside and curled it around hers in nothing short of a mating dance.
“April’s watching,” Shy gasped out when I released her lips with slow suction.
“Don’t care.” I bent for another long, lingering kiss, not giving a fuck April the manager had a front row view.
“You’re a bad influence,” Shy admonished, finally prodding me a step back.
“Yup.”
“To what do I owe the honor? Don’t you have to work this afternoon?” Her cheeks dimpled, her lips shined, and her hair had grown in more, soft pale blond curls giving her a sassy surfer girl look.
“Shy’s taking the rest of the day off,” I called to April.
“I am?”
“Yup.” I started off down the racks of trendy clothes, looking for one section in particular.
“Why?” Shy followed after me, maneuvering with ease on her crutches.
“Beach.” I found the bathing suits. “We’re going to it.”
“I can’t.” Shy halted behind me. “Not like this. And I haven’t been since—”
“Not since before the amputation. I know.” I began flicking through the two pieces, intent on finding a bikini for her. “So I checked with Dr. Haines and your rehab team. You know they have special prosthetics for swimmers, but it’s too soon after the”—accident was the wrong word, kidnapping and torture more apt—“after what happened. But, she thinks the sunshine and salt water will help with the healing.”
Hangers clacked together as I pushed more swimsuits aside.
I felt Shy’s stare boring holes into my back.
“And how am I supposed to get over the dunes like this?”
Glancing back, I asked, “Like what?”
“Missing one leg?”
“Well, exactly the same way you get around downtown I guess. Use the crutches. Or I’m gonna carry you. Which I like to do anyway.” I shrugged.
She grabbed my shoulder. “I’m too self-conscious.”
“Please. You’re sex in the flesh. I can hardly keep my hands or eyes off you.” I lowered my voice, my gaze roaming boldly up and down her body. “And by the way, I think the moratorium on sex is gonna end today too.”
“I’m scared,” Shy said in a hushed voice.
“About the sex or the beach full of people.”
“The beach.” Her eyelashes fluttered down to the crests of her cheeks. “Both?”
I almost backed down, but this time Shy needed to be pushed. And I needed to give her this one thing she didn’t think she could have again. To show her it was possible.
The beach.
The ocean.
Sand and waves and water.
And sex—pure primal fucking with me. But not at the beach. Exhibitionism aside . . .
“I know.” I caressed her neck with a sole finger, feeling the fineness of her skin. “That’s why I’ll be with you.”
“People will stare.”
“Fuck ’em.” I showed her my two middle fingers.
Her head jerked up, and she smirked.
Oh yeah. I’ve got her.
“So that’s settled then.” From behind my back I pulled out a crocheted, tiny-looking, aqua blue two-piece thing that appeared to be smaller than my fist. “I choose this one.”
“NO! Are you insane?” Shy’s eyes tripled in size.
“Maybe.”
“I can’t possibly parade around in that . . . that . . .”
“Teensy-tiny sexy bikini? Because people will stare? Because of how rockin’ hot you are?” I twirled the two pieces of almost-nothing around on my finger.
She snapped the offending articles from me.
“You shouldn’t sell something you wouldn’t wear yourself, ya know?” I teased.
“Shut up,” Shy muttered, on her way to the dressing rooms in the back.
“I’ll just help you change.” I loomed behind her.
Pushing me back, she shut the door. “I’m fully capable of dressing and undressing myself, Handsome Rush.”
“Handsome?” April asked.