Page 34 of What I Like About You

Chapter Twelve

The shimmeryblush-colored sundress didn’t fit Zara quite like that custom gown from Posey’s all those years ago, but made her feel just as beautiful. It was light and flowy, giving her plenty of room to move. The color was fun and flirty, and in a way reminded her of Glinda’s dress in the original Wizard of Oz movie. There was no way for Drea to know the significance of that, but the twist of fate was not lost on Zara and was just one more thing making her reevaluate Antwan’s thoughts about fate giving them another chance.

While they might have been over a thousand miles away from where the moment had taken place, Zara knew without a doubt Dalton was referring to the beach in his note. It was a memory she hadn’t thought of in a very long time, but a moment she would never forget either. Some memories were forever.

As she walked across the soft sand, she was glad Antwan and Drea had talked her into going barefoot. The ratty old flip-flops she’d worn to the spa didn’t even begin to match her new dress, and while she insisted she had a pair that would match back in the room, the two of them had been right that it would have been a waste of time to get them. The sun had started to set and was glittering off the water as she found Dalton waiting for her on the warm sand not far from the pool. He looked so handsome in a pair of linen pants and an unbuttoned lilac button-down over a crisp white T-shirt. A twinge of desire passed through her as she took him in, and she let herself get caught up in his beauty for just a moment.

“You look stunning,” he said, and he walked a couple of steps toward her to finish closing the gap. He took both her hands in his as he looked her up and down, drinking her in. She blushed under his gaze and felt that twinge turn into a swell of desire.

“Thanks,” she replied sheepishly. “Drea insisted on the works. Manicure, pedicure, blow job…blowout! Blow. Out.” Zara’s hands flew to her face, covering her still slack-jawed mouth. I did not just fucking call it a blow job to his face….

Dalton laughed, pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her. He held her like that for a moment before lightly kissing the top of her head and taking a step back to look at her. “Mind out of the gutter, Miss Wellington,” he teased. “But I have to admit, I like seeing you blush like this.”

“I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “Shall we continue?” He gestured toward the surf, taking her hand in his again.

She nodded slightly, following his lead down the beach. Not far from where he’d been waiting for her, she found a blanket spread out on the sand with a large wicker basket sitting in the middle.

“A picnic?” she asked as they reached the blanket.

“Yup. Miller packed up a bunch of finger foods,” Dalton told her, gesturing for her to sit. She lowered herself down to the blanket as gracefully as she could in the knee-length dress. “I’m not sure how hungry you are, but if this isn’t enough, we can always go to the dining room.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she answered. Truth was, she was still so nervous that she wasn’t sure she could eat.

Dalton pulled two plates out of the basket, as well as a bunch of smaller tinfoil to-go containers. Popping them open, he put together a full plate for her of pot stickers, meatballs, mini quiche, pinwheels filled with some sort of soft cheese, and what appeared to be crab cakes.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me tonight,” he said, handing her the plate.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for asking me.”

“I’m sorry I upset you this morning.”

“No, you were right,” she said, taking a bite of a pinwheel. The flavor of garlic-and-herb goat cheese burst into her mouth, and she almost moaned at how good it tasted. “It was stupid of me. I know that’s a verbal filler for you, always has been. It is for a lot of people. It’s just you’ve never had a nickname or anything for me, and I guess watching you have one for someone else, even if it was generic, made me feel bad. Especially after that kiss last night—”

“Zara,” he said, cutting her off. “It was not stupid if that’s how you felt. I don’t ever want to make you feel bad about yourself. That’s the exact opposite of my intentions. I’ve never done it because you’re special and unique, and I’ve always thought you deserved to be called by your name. But here’s the thing, beautiful, I will call you whatever you want me to. I have a hundred and one names I can think of from all the stuff we’ve been through, but to me, nothing will ever be as sweet as the sound of your name.”

Dalton’s words washed over her like a wave, except instead of cooling her off, they heated her up like she’d been sitting in the sun. She heard her breath hitch as she tried to respond, but she just couldn’t find the words. That was why he’d never done it? He thought she was that special? Why hadn’t he ever told her this?

“Oh,” she finally managed to say. “I like when you say my name.”

“Then I will say it even more.”

“So, can I ask you something?” Zara asked, a little unsure.

“Anything.”

“Okay, because I have questions.”

“Then consider me Radio Shack,” he said, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

“Huh?”

“You’ve got questions, I’ve got answers. It was part of their slogan.”

“How do you still know that?” she asked with a laugh.

“Now that I don’t have an answer for,” he responded. “But what do you want to know?”