Sandcastle Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story Page 4

  ***

  “Hey, Izzy,” Adele, the owner, called out as Noah and I walked into the small restaurant. I waved a hello as the door chimed behind us and I went to claim my favorite table. The restaurant was brightly colored and decorated with pink flamingos and parrots. It screamed tourist attraction, but Adele made it homey and warm. I sat down at my favorite table by the window, and Noah followed my lead.

  “You've been here a few times, I take it?” he asked with a smile. I laughed.

  “Yup. Dom over there owns the bar I work at on weekends, and Adele is his wife. The bar is right next door. This is my favorite place to get breakfast.” I slid him a menu. “If you like French toast, Adele makes it from cinnamon rolls.”

  “Cinnamon rolls? I'm sold. I'm having that.” Noah set the menu down and grinned.

  “Yeah, it's my favorite. That or the banana-nut crepes.”

  “Okay, now you're making me rethink my first choice...” He reached for the menu. I put my hand on his to stop him, feeling a quiver in my stomach at his touch.

  “Go with the Cinnamon Roll French Toast. Tomorrow you can come back and get the crepes. Or for dinner. Adele serves breakfast all day.” I let go of his hand and sat back into my chair.

  “This island just keeps getting better and better!” Noah laughed.

  Adele came over in her yellow plaid apron and pale yellow dress. I always thought she was what a grandmother should look like. She was all warm curves, hugs, and smiles. It was part of the appeal of eating at Adele’s. Not only was there amazing food, but it felt like I was always getting spoiled by a favorite relative by coming there.

  “What can I get you folks?” Adele asked.

  “Two of my usual. Bacon and scrambled eggs on mine, please,” I replied politely.

  “Scrambled eggs and sausage links for me. And coffee,” Noah added.

  “You got it. It'll be right out,” Adele promised, taking our menus and bustling off to the kitchen. It was slow now that the breakfast rush was over. The normal waitress must have been on break, so Adele was probably playing both waitress and cook.

  “So, what do you do, Noah? Other than tend bar?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.

  “I buy distressed properties,” he said. A light went out in his blue eyes, like this wasn't something that he enjoyed discussing.

  “That sounds... interesting.” I was surprised at his lack of enthusiasm. Most people were eager to tell others about their work and what they did.

  “Not really. It's actually quite boring,” Noah replied, his voice flat. Adele reappeared at our table with a fresh pot of coffee and poured us each a steaming mug. She left the carafe along with a small pitcher of cream. I eagerly added some to my coffee and poured some sugar in as well. Noah took his black.

  “You must be good at it,” I said once Adele had left.

  “Good at what?” Noah looked at me confused, his dark brows meeting in the center of his forehead.

  “Distressed properties.”

  “What makes you think I'm good at it?” His voice held no emotion, and his eyes were blank. He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Because no one who is friends with Jack Saunders would be able to do something badly.”

  Noah frowned slightly. “So you know who Jack is?”

  “My roommate adores those tabloid magazines. If she knew that 'New York's most eligible bachelor' was in town, she'd flip her lid.” I played with my coffee mug and then looked up at him. “I actually didn't even recognize him until I went home and saw him on the cover of one of her magazines. I am so out of the celebrity loop. If it hadn't been laying on her bed, I never would have made the connection.”

  “Are you going to tell her?” Noah's blue eyes searched my face.

  “Hell no.” I set my coffee cup down. “She'd go off to find him, and I'd get stuck doing all her research work!”

  Noah laughed, and his face relaxed. The light was back in his eyes. He was a good friend to worry about his buddy like that. I couldn't help but like him just a little bit more.

  “So, research work? What do you do?” Noah asked. He leaned in against the table, as if he were actually interested.

  “I'm a marine biologist.”

  “Do you work with dolphins?” Noah's eyes sparkled at the idea.

  I shook my head. “Sharks, actually.”

  “Sharks?” Noah frowned. “Like Jaws?” he made a chomping motion with his hands, and I giggled.

  “Sharks, yes. Jaws, no. Jaws was a great white shark, and they typically don't live in the Caribbean,” I explained gently.

  Noah leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You must not have seen Jaws Four, then.”

  “It's what inspired me to become a marine biologist!” I opened my eyes wide in mock enthusiasm, making him laugh. “It's only the worst movie ever,” I said, making a face, and he laughed harder. “I actually mostly study lemon sharks. Not great whites.”

  “Do they look like great whites?” He gave me a serious look. “Please tell me we're going to need a bigger boat.”

  I snorted a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand so I wouldn't spit out my coffee. It wasn't like anyone had never made the joke before, but when he said it, it was hilarious. It took me a second to recover and not shoot coffee out my nose.

  Adele came by then, and dropped off our food. I took a big inhale of the rising steam before diving into the scrumptious feast. This was why my wetsuit was a little tight, but it was more than worth it. Butter dripped off the fried slices of cinnamon roll. The eggs were covered in cheese, and my bacon was the prime level of crispy. Adele had made the perfect breakfast yet again.

  “Holy mother...” Noah said quietly as he chewed his first bite. “Did I die and go to Breakfast Heaven?”

  I just grinned at him and dug into my plate. We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the food taking both of our attention away from talking.

  “Have you ever been bit by a shark then?” Noah asked, his blue eyes concentrated entirely on my face. He pushed his empty plate away and leaned forward in his chair, honestly interested in my profession. It was wonderful to get to talk to him and not be constantly interrupted by drink orders.

  “Once, but it was a baby. I didn't even get a good scar out of it.”

  “I can't imagine being in the water with one of those monsters. They kind of freak me out a little bit.” He smiled with just a hint of bashfulness. Like admitting he was afraid of sharks made him somehow less of a man. “How many sharks are in the area?”

  “Well, we've recorded about thirteen species. The island actually has one of the highest populations of sharks in the area,” I told him.

  He paled slightly. “I'm never going in the water again.”

  “Oh, they're not that bad! Sharks are cool!” I reached out and put my hand on his without thinking. “Haven't you seen Shark Week?”

  “Yes. And I've seen all the episodes where people get bitten!”

  I rolled my eyes, but I smiled, taking any sting out of my expression. “Fine. I dare you to come swim with me, then. I'll show you the wonders of the deep.”

  “If my arm gets bitten off, I get yours.”

  I pretended to think about it for a moment. A movement outside the window caught my eye, and I could see the woman with the khaki shorts from earlier looking in various windows of the local shops.

  “You'd look pretty silly with my arm,” I told him, wearing a serious face. “I think it would be too short for you.”

  “Hmm...” He frowned and nodded. “Good point.”

  “How about I take you on a tour of the research pools sometime? You can see a baby shark, and it won't bite you,” I offered.

  “Baby sharks just bite you, then?” he asked with mock seriousness.

  “Only when you are tagging them and they're mad at you,” I said with a smirk.

  “Sounds good to me.” He grinned at me and then followed my gaze out the window to the woman in khaki shorts.

&nbs
p; “Let's get out of here,” he said quickly, throwing a fifty dollar bill on the table. Our bill couldn't have been more than thirty dollars even with a generous tip, but I knew Adele wouldn't mind the extra money.

  Noah grabbed my hand, a grin spreading across his handsome features as he pulled me out the restaurant and back toward the beach.

  Chapter 7

  Noah didn't drop my hand as we walked out of the restaurant. He didn't drop it as we walked out of the town square, or as we meandered down the pathway leading to the beach. I wasn't about to let go either, even though I could feel mine going sweaty and hot. I didn't want to lose our connection.

  We crested a small hill to the beach, and I could see the ocean laid out before us. The golden sunshine sparkled on the waves, the white light almost too bright to look at. We stood there for a moment, hand in hand, staring out at the waves.

  “How long are you in town for again?” I whispered. I had been thinking the words since we met, but I hadn't found the courage to say them until now. Despite my best intentions, I liked Noah. Really liked him. But he was a tourist and was going to leave as soon as his vacation was done. It was better just not to get attached. I didn't let go of his hand, though.

  Noah stared out at the water for a moment before answering, his eyes distant and his voice quiet. “Just a couple more days. I really only came for the party last night.” He turned and smiled gently. “You can't say no to a Jack Saunders party.”

  “He would definitely be a hard man to say 'no' to.” I turned to look out at the water again. I loved the way the blue of the sky melded with the blue of the water, obscuring the horizon. I wanted the ocean to go on for forever, and I liked the illusion that it did.

  Noah suddenly disengaged our handhold and took off for the water. He sprinted across the sandy beach and ran into the foam of the waves. I hurried after him, afraid he had seen something that needed rescuing. Dolphins had been known to wash up on shore, or even exhausted swimmers.

  When I caught up to him, he held up a small bucket with various plastic shovels attached to the handle. They were just cheap, plastic beach toys, but he held them up in victory as though he had rescued a mermaid.

  “Look what I saved: The environment!” he exclaimed. His smile was as bright as the sun as he stumbled out of the water and back onto the sandy beach.

  “My hero!” I cooed, batting my eyelashes up at him. He grinned even broader.

  “I used to play with these all the time. I made the best sandcastles,” he said, turning the bucket and shovels over in his hands. I could see a multitude of happy memories shining in his eyes as he played with the toys.

  “Me too. I once made one with my dad that could have won a castle-building contest,” I said.

  Noah grinned at me. “You wanna make one now?”

  There was no way I was going to say no. The glint in his eye, the smile, the easy way to get to spend more time with him. Tourist or not, I liked him and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to build sandcastles with a handsome man. Besides, it was my day off.

  “Only if we can fill the moat with actual water.” I crossed my arms, pouting my lips like the moat was a deal breaker.

  “What kind of castle would it be without a water-filled moat?" he responded with mock seriousness. I grinned with childlike delight, hurrying over to a sandy spot where we could start building.

  I kicked off my shoes, digging in the sand with my hands and feet to start building the foundation for our sandcastle. Noah dug up buckets of wet sand and dumped them in a pile next to the foundation. He moved like an excited kid. Every motion was exaggerated yet purposeful, but it was the grin plastered to his face that told me he was enjoying himself.

  Once I had the base for the castle smooth, Noah spread wet sand across it and then used the bucket to pack it down. It took us a couple of minutes, but a strong foundation would make the castle last longer.

  I went to fill the bucket with sand, carefully turning it over so that it would maintain its shape. I went to fill another, but Noah gently grabbed the bucket from my hands.

  “The secret to a sandcastle is to build down, not up.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “If we build down, then we won't risk knocking it over, and it's far more stable.”

  “Are you secretly a prize-winning sandcastle artist?” I asked, the idea making more sense as I thought about it. If we made a big pile of sand, packed it down, and then started shaping it, the sandcastle wouldn't fall apart because it was already solid.

  “Only on weekends,” Noah teased.

  Together we piled the wet sand on the center of the foundation, packing it down with our hands and giggling as our fingers touched. It was impossible not to run into him working as closely as we were. Our hands would brush as we packed the sand down; our knees would bump against each other as we reached for more sand; our elbows would knock together as we piled the sand higher.

  “If we make a tower here, and a door here,” Noah explained, pointing to the lumpy sand with his hands. His eyes were bright as he imagined the castle in his mind and used his hands to explain it to me.“Then we can build this part up and make it last longer.”

  “You sound like an architect,” I said with a smile. He gave me a grin that melted my heart. It made him even more attractive that he was excited and involving me.

  “I've always had a thing for architecture. I never went to school for it, but in my spare time I like to design things. It isn't what pays the rent, but it's something I enjoy.” He turned back to the castle and started to use his hands and the shovel to create the basic structure of the castle.

  I watched him for a moment before joining in, admiring the surety of his hands. I had a feeling not many people got to see this side of him. Creative. Happy. He practically glowed with enthusiasm as he guided the sand into a beautiful castle.

  “Help me hold this here,” he said quietly. He put my hand on the wet sand, his direct touch sending an electric shock of desire straight down my spine. The ache of pure want grew in the pit of my stomach, filling my body with heat. If his hand could have this kind of effect on me, I wanted to know what other parts of his body could do.

  Noah didn't seem to feel the same shock, but then, I was concentrating on the castle and not looking at him. I was afraid my blush would give me away if I looked at his face.

  “There,” he said softly, releasing my hand. “All done.”

  The ache didn't leave my core. In fact, with the removal of his hand, it grew stronger. I wanted him to touch me again. I needed him to touch me again.

  Noah leaned back, examining his work. The castle was almost finished. It wasn't elaborate or immense, but it was beautiful with clean lines and simple towers that reminded me of a princess's castle. It looked like something Sleeping Beauty would be glad to claim as her own.

  “It's gorgeous,” I said. Noah grinned.

  “You have some sand on your cheek,” Noah replied, reaching a hand out to wipe it away. His fingers were gentle and warm against my face as he gently brushed the tiny grains from my skin. I shivered slightly, the heat in my core growing again.

  Noah didn't pull his hand away once the sand was gone. His eyes focused on mine, pulling me deep into the pools of blue that led straight to his soul. His fingers caressed the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I met him halfway, winding my arms around his neck. His mouth slanted over mine, joining us together as if we had always meant to be. The kiss stole the air from my lungs and filled my body with light. My chest tightened and burned with a need that wasn't just physical. I wanted to dive into him like an ocean.

  His tongue found mine, sending a bolt of hunger through me that was so strong I wasn't sure I'd survive. He tasted better than I could have imagined. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me into him. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

  The sand was coarse beneath my knees in a beautiful contrast to the silkiness of his lips. My body was afire with sensation but totally focused on his kis
s. The sun was warm against my hair, the sand rough against my legs, the ocean sighing in pleasure, but all I cared about was the warmth of Noah's lips against mine. The way his hands pressed into my hair, drawing me nearer to him.

  Noah's phone began to ring. It buzzed in his pocket like an angry hornet while making an annoying old-school telephone ring. One hand released my head and slipped into his pocket to silence the intruding sound. The phone was only quiet for a moment before returning to it's incessant noise.

  Noah tipped his face away from mine reluctantly, releasing me so he could fumble in his pocket to make the phone stop. I struggled to breathe and regain my senses. His kiss was overwhelmingly good. He pressed the screen of his phone, grumbling under his breath before reaching for me again. I wanted to kiss him again, but as soon as his fingers touched my skin, the phone began to vibrate.

  “I think someone wants your attention as much as I do,” I whispered. The spell of the kiss was broken.

  “It's just work. They don't seem to understand that I'm on vacation,” he whispered back, stealing a kiss on my cheek. “If I don't answer them, they'll just keep calling. I have a feeling I need to go attend to some business. I'm sorry. It'll probably take a while.”

  “How do you have cell service out here? You must be good friends with Jack Saunders to afford those roaming fees,” I said, the idea suddenly hitting me. Cell service for non-locals was ridiculously priced.

  Noah waved his hand through the air. “It's not that bad.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him and cocked my head to the side. I knew those rates were outrageous. “You're not fooling anyone with that. 'Fess up. You're at least a little more successful than just a bartender to the billionaires.”

  Noah laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Maybe. Maybe stealing phone minutes is just one of my many talents.” He smiled. His blue eyes sparkled at me and the corners of his lips begged to be kissed again. I leaned forward, wanting to kiss him again, but the phone buzzed just a second before our lips could touch.