The Moment We Began (A Fairhope New Adult Romance) (18 page)

“A tent,” Mason says.

She looks at me, and I get the distinct feeling
she’s doubting my ability to sleep in a tent. “I wouldn’t
have guessed that,” she says. “But I think you might want
to try Little Lake campsite. The state one is real commercial outfit.
Lots of RV’s and noise and such. Our little one here is real
close to the beach and is a lot quieter. More off the beaten path, so
to speak.”

“Do they have showers?” I ask.

She laughs. “Oh yeah,” she says. “They
got all the modern conveniences a girl like you could need.”

She’s messing with me, and to be honest, it
kind of scares the crap out of me. I’m tempted to tell Mason we
should try our luck at the bigger site, but I can tell from the smile
on his face that he’s already sold on this other one.

“Sounds perfect,” Mason tells her.
“And if we stay, I’m sure we’ll be back for more of
your amazing food.”

The woman smiles from ear to ear and I swear to
God I see an actual blush creep across her cheeks.

I sneak a look over at Mason. I always knew he was
a charmer, but this is a side to him I’ve never seen. He’s
more humble and a lot less flashy. The Mason I have always known has
always been more aggressively flirtatious. He’s usually the
center of attention. Loud and pushy.

But this Mason is a real gentleman.

And I like it.

Before the waitress walks away, she pulls the
check out of her apron and lays it face-down on the table. Mason
turns it over, then throws a ten dollar bill down on the table.

“Ten dollars?” I grab the check and
turn it over. Dang, no wonder this place is practically run into the
ground. “All that food was only seven bucks? You’ve got
to be kidding me. She didn’t even charge us for our drinks.”

“This place is a real find, huh? What did I
tell you?” he says. “Let’s go check out the beach,
then we’ll head down to the campground to see if there are any
spots left for the night.”

“How long will we stay?” I ask as we
get up and head out the door.

Mason turns to wave at Delores and Buddy before he
leads us back out into the sunshine.

“As long as we want.”

Mason and I walk out toward the beach. It’s
a sunny morning, but there aren’t very many people on this side
of the beach. Pretty far down one side, we can see a colorful cluster
of umbrellas and towels and bodies. On the other side, there’s
the small, weathered pier.

“Which way?” I ask.

Mason studies them both. “Let’s check
out the pier,” he says. “These old ones can be really
cool sometimes.”

We step into the sand and I realize it’s
going to be a tough walk with these boots on. “Hold on a sec,”
I say.

I hesitate, looking around for a place to sit
down. There’s no curb or anything. Just sidewalk and sand. I
plop down on the beach, then nearly jump up as the hot sand
practically burns the back of my legs.

“Whoa,” I shout, crouching down. “It’s
super hot.”

Mason pulls his t-shirt off and lays it down on
the sand for me. “That should help.”

I stare up at him, wide-eyed. My pulse quickens at
the sight of his defined abs and perfectly tanned skin. “When
did you become such a gentleman?” I ask. “First you’re
so sweet to the lady inside and now you’re being really nice to
me.”

I sit down on his shirt and begin untying my laces
and pulling off my boots and socks.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he
says. “I’ve always been a gentleman at heart.”

I snort, but then see by the look on his face that
I’ve hurt his feelings.

“Oh, Mason, I’m sorry. You know I
didn’t mean it.” I pull my other boot off, then stand up,
the hot sand burning the bottom of my feet as I approach him. “It’s
just that back home, you’re usually all about the
hit-it-and-quit-it mentality with women. I mean, I’ve seen
glimpses here and there of how sweet you can be when we’re
alone together, but you can be a real asshole sometimes and you know
it.”

He shrugs. “This is different,” he
says.

“How?”

He leaves his shirt on the ground by my boots and
we take off toward the pier. “Besides it being just you and me,
I guess this is just more of my comfort zone,” he says. “This
is more of how I grew up. The party guy got to be more of an act. It
just felt like that was who everyone expected me to be, you know?
That’s part of why I needed to get away. I was tired of being
me, if that makes sense.”

My shoulder brushes against his as we walk. I want
to lean in to him. To be in his arms. But he takes one step apart
from me and our skin loses contact.

“It makes a lot of sense,” I say. “I
feel that way all the time.”

“How is that possible?” he asks,
shaking his head. “You’re perfect, Penny.”

“Ha! I’m far from perfect,” I
say, leaning down to grab a pretty shell that caught my eye. As soon
as I pull it from the sand, though, I see it has a huge hole in it. I
throw it back down and keep searching. “You’re talking to
the girl who got drunk and wrecked an eighty thousand dollar car.
I’ve made so many mistakes it’s not even funny.”

I step into the waves, then jump back when the
cold water splashes against my feet and ankles.

“Brrr. That’s colder than I thought it
would be. I thought the Gulf of Mexico was supposed to be warmer
water.”

“It is warmer,” he says. “It
just feels cold because the sand was so hot.”

Another wave breaks and rushes toward us. I squeal
and run around him, heading back to the warm sand. Now that I’m
wet, the sand sticks to me.

“Wimp,” he says. He moves toward me
and before I realize what he’s doing, he lifts me over his
shoulder and runs toward the water.

“No!” I scream, kicking and giggling.

I expect him to stop when he reaches the water,
but he doesn’t. He keeps going, running in slow motion through
the waves until they cover his knees. Then, he dives forward, taking
me with him as he plunges into the water.

I scream just before I go under. A wave crashes on
top of us and my head is pushed beneath the surface. At first, the
water is freezing cold, but it’s more like a jolt that hits and
then disappears. I flail my arms to swim away from him, then find the
sandy bottom with my feet and push up out of the ocean.

I wipe the water from my eyes and push my hair
back from my face. Mason comes up laughing, then looks at me with a
terrible grin. I open my eyes wide and start backing up.

“Don’t you dare,” I shout.

But he does. He jumps across the space between us,
hooking his arms around my waist and dragging me under again. This
time he holds on to me. I spin around to face him as we both come up
out of the water. We stand, our bodies half-in, half-out of the gulf
waters. My tank top clings to my body, but rises up every time the
water laps at the edge of it.

Mason sets both hands on my waist, his fingers
brushing against the bare skin as my tank top lifts up, leaving my
skin bare to him.

I wrap my hands around him and lay my palms flat
against his muscled back. We’re breathing hard from playing in
the water, but my heart is racing because of how close he’s
standing. Every time his fingers move against my flesh, my insides
flash with fire.

A bigger wave breaks just before it gets to us,
knocking us slightly off balance. Mason pulls me closer, tighter in
his arms. He dips his head down and I rise to meet him, our lips
eager.

My mouth opens slightly and I lick his bottom lip
with my tongue as he kisses me. He tastes of salt. I open wider and
let his tongue explore mine. I rake my nails across his back and he
moans, pulling me tighter against him. His kiss becomes hungrier,
more passionate. I lift up with the next wave, wrapping my legs
around him in the water and grinding my body against him.

He reaches around to cup my ass, holding me to him
as the waves break over and over again, never interrupting our kiss
for even a second.

Eventually, I pull away, out of breath and wanting
more.

“Is this real?” I whisper.

He kisses the side of my mouth, my cheek, my
temple. “It’s real for now,” he says.

I cling tight to him, but his words echo in my
heart. For now. He’s already leaving room for a time when it
won’t be real, won’t be us, anymore. But that’s
what I offered him, didn’t I? A chance to walk away when this
is over?

It’s only day one and already I’m
falling deeper. I have no idea how I’m going to survive this.

I know I can’t spend the next few weeks
dwelling on what’s going to happen at the end of all this. I’ll
drive myself crazy and I’ll end up pushing him away. What I
need to do is just take it one step at a time. One moment at a time.

I kiss him again, the sound of the waves roaring
in my ears and my heart thundering in my chest.

And I let myself fall.

After an uneventful trip down to the pier to watch
old men fish, Mason and I dry off and drive south toward Little Lake
Campground.

We miss the small sign for the place and have to
turn around. The road leading to it is narrow and sandy, but
well-traveled.

I hold on to the window-frame as the truck bumps
up and down along the road. Mason slows when we come to a small gated
outpost. Behind it, there’s a wooden fence marking off the
campgrounds. There are two square wooden buildings off to the left
marked with male and female, and I really hope those aren’t the
only showers and bathrooms they have here. The buildings are tiny and
weather-beaten. The roof of the Ladies room is covered in leaves and
the overhangs are covered in giant cobwebs. I don’t even want
to think about the spiders that could be lurking under the toilet
seats.

I shudder.

“You okay?” Mason asks. He follows my
gaze to the bathrooms and chuckles. “Not exactly the Ritz
Carlton, I realize, but at least there are showers and toilets.
That’s better than some campsites I’ve stayed in.”

My eyes grow wide. “Please tell me you’re
not planning on taking us to a place with no bathrooms,” I say.
“I’m not complaining, just politely begging you with all
that I am.”

He laughs. “Nah, not anytime soon, anyway.
Let’s get your feet wet first.”

He parks just outside the gate and goes out to
talk to a guy sitting in a lawn chair outside a small wooden
building. They nod and carry on a conversation I can’t hear,
then finally Mason shakes the guy’s hand and hands over some
cash from his wallet.

I relax a little. At least we seem to have a place
to stay. I think I’d definitely prefer camping out in a tent to
some of the shady motels we saw near the beach.

When Mason comes back, I ask him how much it costs
to camp here.

“It’s twenty-five bucks a night to
pitch a tent and use the facilities,” he says. “If we
decide to stay, we can get a discount if we pay for a week up front.
Not bad, huh?”

“Only twenty-five dollars? You’re
kidding me?”

“Nope.”

I clap my hands together. “With our money,
we could stay here for months.”

He lifts one eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re
so incredibly excited about camping out now that you’re willing
to stay for month?”

I slide across the seat toward him and run my hand
up his leg slowly. “Do I get to stay in a tent snuggled up next
to you?”

He bites his lower lip and sucks a loud breath in
through his nose. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing
to me right now?”

“I could make a guess,” I say.

“Come on, let’s find a parking spot
and find our camp site,” he says. “There will be plenty
of time to talk about tent snuggling after dark.”

I laugh again and realize my cheeks hurt from
spending the entire afternoon smiling like a lunatic.

Guilt stabs me as I think about what must be going
on back home, though. I’m sure my parents are mad as hell and
chances are, most of my friends are really worried about me. At least
they know I’m with Mason. Those closest to me will know just
how exciting that is for me and they’ll be happy.

My parents? Not so much.

Mason gets in and pulls the truck through the
wooden gate. He drives around the area for a minute, then finally
stops. He looks down at the piece of paper the guard gave him and
shakes it in his hand. “This is it,” he says, putting the
truck in park and turning it off. “We can’t park the
truck here long term, so we need to grab our stuff and get started
putting it together. It’s only a couple of hours until it gets
dark and we want to have everything set up by then.”

“Okay.” I get out and reach into the
back, pulling out everything I can get my hands on. I try to lift one
of the bigger duffel bags, but it’s way too heavy. “Do we
need all this stuff?”

“Yeah, if you want to be comfortable,”
he says. He makes a face and spins in a circle. “Shit. I
totally forgot that you didn’t bring your own sleeping bag or
pillow or anything like that.”

I shrug. “Can’t I just share with
you?”

He takes both big duffel bags out and throws them
to the ground near our numbered site. “That should be okay for
tonight, but believe me, you’re going to want your own bag if
it starts getting cool at night. Plus, have you ever slept in one of
these?”

I grab a couple of the smaller bags and carry them
over. “A tent? Or a sleeping bag?”

“A sleeping bag.”

I search my memory. “I think I used to have
a pink Barbie sleeping bag that I took when we had birthday party
sleepovers and stuff,” I say. “But I’m guessing
that’s not really the same thing.”

“Not exactly,” he says, shaking his
head. “Grab that last box and I’ll drive the car over to
the parking lot.”

I set the box on the ground and look around at all
this stuff. “I don’t have the first clue to do with
this.”