I PULLED up to the pier and got out of my car. There were only a few people here—fishing over the edge or leaning against the wooden rails to watch the ocean waves roll in. At the very end of the wooden path, Beckett stood, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the gray-blue of the water.
When I got within a few feet, he turned and took me in. “You’re not wearing your dress.”
I laughed. “You said to bring it, not to wear it!” A humorous spark lit his eyes. “It was implied.” “Why would I wear it out here?”
He held up his hand that had been by his side. His camera.
“What?” I asked, not wanting to believe what the two and two I put together were adding up to. “You’re not taking pictures of me in my dress, are you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” He stepped closer and squeezed my fingers. “I want to show you how I see you.” He held up his camera. “This is the only way I know how.”
I turned and looked down the pier. Suddenly the few people there felt like a crowd. “What if someone sees us?”
“You mean the five people here?” He shook his head. “Why do you care what they think of you?”
“I—” But my words stalled in my throat. Why did I care?
“You’re here with me, right?” he asked, coming closer, intoxicating me with his proximity.
I swallowed and nodded.
“Good. So why don’t you go change in my car? No one should be able to see you with the tint, and you won’t get your dress dirty like you would in the public bathrooms.” He reached into his pocket and handed me his keys. “I’m going to make sure I have my settings perfect.”
I looked at him, at the way his hair moved with the salty breeze. How had I ended up here? “Are you sure?”
Understanding dawned on his face, and he put his free hand on my cheek. I was beginning to love the feel of his touch against the delicate skin there. So much so I was afraid to lose it.
He leaned in, and his lips touched mine. The ocean, the pier, the people, they all fell away, and I leaned into the feeling of his breath on my skin and his hand moving to my waist. For once my waistline didn’t seem like a hindrance, but something Beckett could caress—adore. The feeling was heaven. Bliss. Everything I’d hoped for and everything I was terrified to lose.
He slowly pulled away, and I looked up at him, dazed. He bit his lip, smiled at me.
So. Sexy.
“Now,” he said roughly. “Go change.”
Still grinning, I obliged. I’d do anything for him after a kiss like that.
When I reached my car, I pulled the shimmering pink dress from my bag. It was long and silky, and I knew it would flow in the wind the second I stepped out of Beckett’s car. I pictured me through the lens of his camera, hoping the wind would make me look model quality, and not just for fan commercials.
I thumbed the unlock button on his keys, and the locks snapped inside the door. Stepping into his car, I realized how much he trusted me—and relished the time to examine the interior.
I climbed into the spacious back with the seats folded down to make room for his bag with football gear and shoulder pads. There was a boogie board and beach towel back here too, and I liked the idea that he could escape to the beach at a moment’s notice.
Realizing he was waiting for me, I got started on what I came here to do. Changing in Beckett’s car was…a challenge. I wasn’t quite athletic enough to pull off my uniform tights without tipping over. Thank God for tinted windows.
Finally, I was wearing the dress, its silky fabric sliding smoothly over my skin. I reached behind me and zipped it as far as I could. The strappy heels that went with the gown were easy to walk in, even over the wooden slats of the pier.
There were only a few people there, but each of them looked at me. My cheeks were warm, contrasting with the cool air over my bare shoulders and the slit in the dress where the fabric danced around my exposed leg.
I kept my eyes ahead. Toward the attractive guy with his camera pointed over the water.
Beckett turned to me, looking first through the camera and then slowly lowering it. He was smiling, his eyes sliding over me from head to toe.
I gave him a bashful smile. “Can you zip me up the rest of the way?” He simply nodded.
Feeling all of my skin stand at alert, I swept my hair over my shoulder and turned so he could see the zipper.
His fingers grazed my back and took hold of the zipper, sliding it the last couple of inches to the top. For a moment, his hands stayed on my back, and I stood there, holding my hair, frozen with electric shockwaves pouring through me.
When his hands fell away from my skin, I turned to face him.
“You look…amazing,” he breathed, his voice blending with the rhythm of the waves. His eyes were still on me, taking me in.
My heart fluttered, and I had a hard time breathing. I had to change the subject or risk falling into his arms right now. “So…um.” There was that word again. I gripped the cupcake pendant at my neck, feeling the cool metal under my fingertips. “What now?”
“This is my first time working with a model like this,” he admitted. “Be patient with me?”
“Of course.” With that adorable look and his wide-open, earnest eyes, how could I not? Especially if he kept calling me a model.
Taking my hand, he led me to the pier and posed me, showing me how to stand and where to look.
The shutter competed with the lap of the waves, punctuating each moment forever frozen in time. Over and over again, he posed and complimented and captured until I was convinced every angle of me was his.
When he took the final shot, I said, “Can I see?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I want it to be a surprise.”
My lips tugged to begin an argument, but he captured them with his own just as thoroughly as he had with his camera.
“I wish this could last forever,” I breathed against his lips.
Beckett rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. “Some moments are too perfect for photos. They have to be lived.”
