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“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she finally said, giving up the whole pretense of having men lined up. Not that I couldn’t believe it, because I could, but I knew Gemma. She wasn’t the type to keep men on the hook.
I leaned in and looked from her eyes to her lips, as though looking for her to give me the thumbs up, to tell me that this was what she wanted to happen. I looked back up at her eyes. “We already established that.”
She closed her eyes and leaned in further, but I could tell she was uneasy, like as badly as she wanted me to kiss her, she also wished I wouldn’t. And it would only make things more difficult and complicated. We didn’t need that.
So I did what was right for both of us, even if she couldn’t see it now, and backed up. I cleared my throat, so she didn’t feel silly and pointed to the sky when she opened her eyes back up. “The sunrise is nice, isn’t it?” I gave her a reassuring smile.
Her gaze turned forward as she exhaled. Not turning to look at me, she announced, “I still have the jar full of sand.” She smiled, clearly remembering the time we collected sand from this beach with fondness.
I couldn’t help but notice how happy she looked in this moment, how carefree, and beautiful she was. My favorite thing was making her feel at ease, like she didn’t have to be wound so tight twenty-four-seven. She once told me she had so many responsibilities and people depending on her back home that letting herself relax was something she couldn’t afford. I loved that she felt she could be that way around me once upon a time.
“I still have the sea glass,” I confessed, shocking even myself that I said the words aloud.
“What?” She searched my eyes before closing her own. “I’m usually not this sentimental, I certainly didn’t think you were.”
“Yes, you are,” I argued. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have entertained the idea in the first place.”
I looked out at the water and let the memory wash over me.
She giggled, kicking the water and sand up at me with her feet. I looked down at the wet sand that now covered my calves and ran to her, scooping her up in my arms, and spinning her around.
When I finally put her down and she stopped laughing, she walked over to where something was shimmering in the morning light. “Sea glass,” I noted.
She looked back at me before bending down and picking it up. “It’s so beautiful,” she cooed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this gorgeous before.”
“I know I have,” I replied, observing how happy finding sea glass made her.
She rolled her eyes and swatted my arm as I came closer. “I’m serious.” She handed it to me. “Look how pretty.”
I held it in my hand. She was right, it was beautiful. This one was blue-green and shined so bright. “The ocean is full of surprises,” I said.
She sighed. “They come from broken glasses, right?”
“Sure, or even shipwrecks. It tumbles around in the ocean for a while, which is why the edges aren’t as sharp, and then finally it washes ashore, where people like you find it in the sand.”
She stood on her tip-toes and brushed a kiss on my cheek. “Well, I think they’re beautiful.”
I looked around and had an idea. “Find more.”
“What?” she asked. “Why?”
“So we never forget this moment.”
“Lance,” she said, “I don’t think I’m going to forget this moment with or without the sea glass.”
“Come on, beautiful, it’ll be just something you and I know about. It’ll be our special thing.”
“Finding sea glass?”
I nodded. “Fine, but you should keep the sea glass. You obviously appreciate it more.”
“You need something to remember this moment by,” I countered.
“I’ll take sand.”
“I like that. Sand and sea glass, like us, meant to be. You’re the sea glass, by the way,” I pointed out.
She quirked a brow. “I don’t really think sea glass belongs in the sand.”
