A Week at the Beach (6 page)

            “You’re not going to join the party?” Nick asked and followed behind me.

            I tried hard not to focus on the fact that his face was practically even with my ass as we climbed the stairs to the first floor of the house. 

            “I’m not the party type.  I’m much happier curled up in bed with a good book.”  I stopped and turned around to face him.  When I did, I caught him by surprise, and he quickly looked up at my face with a blush on his cheeks.  Obviously, he had been focused on my ass just as I’d feared.  “Actually,” I continued, deciding to ignore the reddened cheeks, “my idea of a party involves board games and bowls of snacks.”

            He cleared his throat and smiled guiltily at me.  “That sounds like fun.”

4.

After my shower, the party seemed to be even louder.  I wandered down to the kitchen and found that most of my food had been left alone in favor of what appeared to be trays of catered goodies.  I made myself another peanut butter and jelly sandwich, snagged a couple of cream puffs and headed back upstairs to my room.

            An hour later, the beat of the music was still pulsing through the house and even the delicious indulgence of my favorite chick lit novel wasn’t enough to drown it out.  When we’d put the surfboards away, I’d spotted a comfortable looking hammock hanging under the house.  Figuring that the noise was more likely to rise up to the third floor than fall down to ground level, I grabbed my book and pillow and snuck down the stairs.  As I passed the second floor, I caught a glimpse of Nick, showered and shaved, shooting pool with a few men.  The crowd of adoring half-naked women standing around watching them seemed to be holding his attention as well as the game, so I didn’t bother to speak to him. 

            Down on the ground floor, the noise from the party was muted and a gentle breeze was blowing.  Carefully, for fear of falling flat onto the concrete floor, I sank into the hammock.  I positioned my pillow behind my head.  With my book in hand, I let the breeze blow across me as I swayed back and forth in my netted bed.  The memories of the day’s events played back as I read the words on the page.  The pounding music drifted away, and I relaxed into my own little world. I was perfectly content in my summer vacation spot. 

The sound of sea gulls crying in the wind frightened me awake and I nearly tipped out of the hammock.  Steadying myself just before I hit the concrete floor, I crawled out of the net and stood up.  The hammock had seemed comfortable as I lay in it the night before, reading and enjoying the cool, night breeze.  But this morning, my body was aching from the lack of a firm surface.  My ribs hurt from yesterday’s near drowning, and my neck ached from the awkward position I’d slept in. 

I tried to roll my neck to ease some of the discomfort, but it was no use.  I was going to have to take something to loosen those muscles.  Just as I bent to pick up the book I’d dropped onto the floor at some point in the night, the sound of a guitar filled the morning air.  I stood up and listened to the opening chords to one of my favorite songs.  I smiled as a male voice quietly joined in with the instrument, singing the words that always made me smile.

I picked my book up and struggled up the stairs.  The gentle music a contrast to the pounding beats from the night before.  I opened the front door and headed in towards the kitchen.  I could smell the freshly brewed coffee, and even though I knew it wouldn’t do anything to ease my pains, I had to have some.  I looked at the state of the house.  It was a mess. 

“Well, well, well!  Look what the cat dragged in!”  Darren greeted me with a sly smile.  He was standing shirtless in the kitchen.  A giggle escaped from the skinny blonde standing behind him, who had obviously spent the night, and stolen his shirt apparently. 

She gave him a playful swat on the arm.  “Be nice, D!  She didn’t do anything you and I haven’t done on occasion.”

“Yeah, be nice D!” I said in a sarcastic chipper voice.  It hurt to do it, but it had been worth it so I stifled the wince of pain.  “Besides, I didn’t do anything.  I slept in the hammock under the house to try and avoid all the noise your party was making.”

Darren looked me up and down then gave me a nod of acceptance.  The skinny blonde gave me a pitiful look and handed me a cup of coffee.

“Who is out on the deck playing a guitar?” I asked after my first glorious sip of coffee.

“Nick.  He takes that damn thing with him everywhere.”  Darren rolled his eyes.

“He’s pretty good,” the skinny blonde added and wiggled up against Darren.  “Do you have any secret talents you’d care to reveal?”

He grinned mischievously at her, “What?  I know you picked up on my talents last night?” He wrapped his arm around her waist and ran his hand up her back, lifting his shirt to reveal her naked ass to me.

“Ugh!  I’m going outside.  This house is a mess.  I hope you don’t think I’m going to have any part in cleaning it up.”  I hopped off the stool I’d only occupied for a few brief seconds and headed towards the deck.

“Relax; I’ve called the cleaning service.  They should be here within the hour.”  Darren managed to get out while the skinny blonde placed kisses over his chest.  “Actually, would you mind letting them in.  I think I’ll be a little preoccupied with something else when they get here.”

I didn’t turn around to see what they were doing.  The squeal of delight that the skinny blonde made was descriptive enough.  I walked faster and slammed the French door behind me. 

Nick stopped playing and stared at me as I walked over to the swing I’d occupied yesterday. 

“Good morning,” I said as cheerfully as I could.

He eyed me suspiciously, “Good morning.”  He drew the words out, making them sound like a question.

“What?” I asked.

“Where have you been?  I looked for you last night, but I never could find you.”  He was still giving me a strange look, but his voice was back to normal.

I looked back at him confidently, “Really?  You didn’t seem to be looking for me when you were playing pool while all the beach blanket bimbos were watching you.”  I smiled sweetly at him and took another sip of coffee.

The corner of Nick’s mouth curled up.  He stood up and came to sit next to me on the swing.  He pushed the guitar to his side and turned to face me, stretching his leg up to take over most of the swing.  With the same crooked smile on his face, he leaned forward and looked directly at me.

“Where did you sleep last night?”

I watched him intently before I answered, “Downstairs, why?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Where at downstairs?”

I tried hard not to think about how close his face was to mine and how good he smelled.  I cleared my throat, but didn’t flinch back from his proximity.

Before I could answer, he added, “You didn’t happen to sleep in a hammock did you?”

I shrugged my shoulders, but didn’t break the eye contact.  “Maybe, so what?”

He smiled and laughed lightly.  He reached up and touched my face gently, “Because you have a waffle pattern imprinted onto your cheek.”

Yesterday, when he’d touched my thigh, I’d felt an electric buzz.  Today, when his hand brushed against my cheek, it felt like a thousand volts of electricity hit me.  Even the embarrassment of realizing that my face looked like a meal at IHOP wasn’t enough to distract me from the electric current pulsing through my body. 

When I didn’t respond, or shy away from his touch, his hand caressed my face and rubbed against the pattern.  Neither of us moved, and for a few seconds we sat staring into each other’s eyes as his hand stroked my face.  The electricity from the contact was almost visible as it built between us.

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs pulled us both back to reality.  I stood up with my coffee cup in hand and leaned over the railing.  An army of cleaners was travelling up the stairs, each armed with a plastic tub full of supplies. 

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”  I called out to them.  “The house is a mess, something which I had no part in doing, by the way.”

The cleaner in the lead gave me a less-than-pleased smile and continued up towards the front door. 

“If you could just get the first and second floors done, that would be great.  Don’t worry about the bedrooms.”  Nick, who had joined me at the railing, added to my shouts.

After the women disappeared inside the house, Nick sat back down on the swing and picked up his guitar.

“I heard you playing earlier, you’re not that bad.”  I smiled sweetly as I sat down on my spot on the swing. 

Nick laughed, “Wow!  ‘Not that bad’?  What a ringing endorsement!  I’m glad I have a day job.”

I blushed, “I didn’t mean it to sound quite so snotty.  Sorry.”

He laughed again, “It’s okay.  I have no musical aspirations.  I just like to play, that’s all.”

I pulled my feet up onto the swing and sipped my coffee.  Nick pushed off with his feet, making the swing sway gently back and forth.  He positioned his guitar and began to strum it quietly.  I watched the sea gulls swooping down over the sandy beach and skimming over the top of the water as his music filled the air.  It was a very peaceful way to start a day, and a smile spread across my face.  I held the coffee cup up to my mouth to hide my smile, but it was too late.

“What’s so funny?” he asked without stopping the strumming.

“Nothing,” I said quietly against the ceramic cup and shook my head slightly.

“Why are you smiling?”

Caught in my serene moment, I turned to see him smiling while he watched me. 

I lowered the mug to my lap and sighed, “I was just thinking that this is a great way to start a day, that’s all.”

            His smile widened, “It is, isn’t it?”

            As much as I didn’t want to, I turned my gaze from his face and back to the beach.  It was far too early in the morning for so much electricity.  I pretended not to hear Nick’s low chuckle as he continued playing and pushing our swing. 

            When my coffee mug was empty, I leaned down to place it on the deck floor.  I thought I’d timed it perfectly, but as usual, I was off balance.  I started to topple, head first, towards the floor.  I heard the guitar hit the floor as a hand grabbed ahold of the back of my shirt, pulling me back against the swing.  Once again, Nick had been there to pull me to safety.

            “You have an incredible knack for danger, don’t you?” he said as he pushed me back onto the swing.

            After I’d secured my position on the swing, I sighed, “My dad always told me, ‘Cami, you may have beauty and style, but you most certainly do not have grace.  Please put down that knife.’”

            Nick laughed.

            “I’m sorry about your guitar.  It’s not broken is it?” I stared down at the instrument, now lying underneath the swing.

            He shrugged, skillfully leaned down, and scooped it up.  “It’s seen worse, trust me.”

            I waited for him to start strumming again before I trusted that the guitar really was okay.  When it didn’t sound any different than it had before, I relaxed.  Content to just sit and listen to his music and swing, I stared at the beach in front of us.  A few people had started to run past, and a couple of teenagers had already staked their claim on a prime spot in the sand. 

            “Can I ask you something?” Nick asked without stopping the music.

            “Sure.”

            “Was that a hint of jealousy I heard earlier when you mentioned the beach blanket bimbos?”

            I shot him a quick look.  He smiled sweetly back at me.