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I looked back over at Zac and he was smiling that dimpled smile of his.
“Here,” Lilly said, walking up and surprising me.
I squatted down and took the shiny blue and white seashell out of her hand. “This is so pretty! Thank you, Lilly.”
She stared into my eyes and then hugged me, surprising me again. I looked up at London and Sam to see them both grinning, and after their daughter walked off to continue looking through the loot of seashells with her twin brother, I stood back up.
“That was the sweetest thing,” I said.
“Lilly is our little social butterfly and never meets a stranger, while Skylar is the shy one—until he gets to know you. Then he’ll talk your ear off,” London chuckled.
“Well, all of this has made my day and we won’t take up any more of yours,” I told London and Sam. “It was so nice meeting and talking with you.”
“Same to you,” they said at the same time, reminding me of how Zac and I did that very thing.
We shook their hands again, wished them a great vacation, and then continued making our way down the beach. After finding a few more keepsake seashells, we turned around and started heading back to our beach house. Before we went back inside, though, Zac and I dropped everything we were holding onto the sand and took a short swim in the ocean. The water felt so good and so did the warm sun. After about fifteen minutes of soaking up both, I asked Zac if he was ready to leave.
“Whenever you are. I’m just along for the journey, babe” he said, smiling at me.
“Then let’s journey into our beach house and boil some shrimp for lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.”
After stuffing ourselves, Zac said he wanted to take a shower. I told him to go ahead, and also that while he was getting all the sand and salty water off him, I’d call my dad. Not from the master bedroom, though, where Zac could possibly hear the conversation. My dad still didn’t know about my relationship with Zac and I knew that if Zac happened to overhear my conversation with my dad, he’d figure that out. Me not mentioning that I was in Destin would be the first clue.
Zac had never asked me if I’d let my dad know about us. I could tell that he’d assumed I had, because he’d told his mom and dad about our relationship. It was a different scenario for me, though, because of who my dad was. Because he was a Methodist pastor.
I’d just hung up from talking to him when Zac walked into the living room wearing only a white towel around his waist and drying off his hair with another one.
“Hey, you,” I said, smiling at him.
“How’s your dad doing?”
“He’s fine. He asked me when I was gonna come to see him again or when he could come to see me.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“That I would try to figure out a time.”
“I’d like to meet him if he comes to Dallas.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling again, but Zac’s quick squint let me know he wasn’t buying it. Not my agreement nor my smile.
“Explain to me why you haven’t told your dad about us, Stevie.”
“What makes you think I haven’t?”
“Because I just overheard enough of your side of your conversation with him while I was walking down that hallway,” Zac said, pointing at it, “toknowyou haven’t. You didn’t mention my name, where we are—nothing. You pretended like you were at work.”
I sighed and then slowly nodded at Zac. “You’re right. I haven’t told my dad about us.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a pastor.”
“Yes, I know. But going by what you told me about him, he doesn’t adhere to religious dogma a hundred percent, so he shouldn’t have a problem with us. The way that he and your mom began their relationship is no different than how we did.”
“But there is a difference. My parents didn’t kiss each other untilaftermy dad was legally divorced and they didn’t have sex untilafterthey were married.”
