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Fortunately, being surrounded by three dozen people serves as a distraction.
“How’s that?” I tease, reaching out for the sunscreen.
Ivy slaps it in my hand. “Like you want to suck on my nipples.”
“You’re very good at reading my expressions because that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“It doesn’t take an instructional manual to figure you out,” she says, laughing. “Even if that wasn’t totally obvious, I know you too well.”
“Better than anyone.” I squirt some sunscreen into my palm and tell her, “Lay flat on your stomach.”
She folds her arms in front of her head like a pillow and rests her face on them. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
I smooth sunscreen over Ivy’s shoulders, massaging the muscles as I go. She sighs contentedly.
“Laying in the sun or being in Honeysuckle Harbor?” I still have a hard time saying the name of this town without a healthy dose of big city cynicism. It’s just so foreign to me, the southern charm, the fact that everyone knows everyone, and that people look after and out for each other.
I’ve lived in my apartment building for three years and I’ve never spoken to a single neighbor except for the woman who is always drunk at the pool and thinks I’m Timothee Chalamet. Three years ago, I would have loved to be him. Now? I’m fucking thrilled to be me.
“Both,” Ivy says. “This is so relaxing and I love the vibe here. The pace is slow and everyone is so damn nice.”
“They are, aren’t they? I haven’t had anyone cut me off or swear at me yet.”
As if to prove our point, a young girl runs up as I’m massaging down Ivy’s back, dipping my fingers under the string of her bikini top.
“Hi, are you Liam?” she asks, putting her hands behind her back and rolling her shoulders back and forth. She’s wearing a one-piece swimsuit and a cover up, the hood flipped up over her damp hair.
“Yes, I’m Liam. Can I help you?”
“I just wanted to tell you that the episode ofMy Fellow Aliensthat you were lead writer on, Season Three, Episode Eleven, was my favorite episode of all time. The character development was extraordinary. You brought Sante to a whole new level.”
I’m impressed with her understanding of what I was aiming for. “Wow, thank you. That’s exactly what I was trying to convey, so thank you for recognizing that. And I can’t believe you know which episode I wrote.”
“Ford is my cousin. Sometimes we watch the show together and he knows that’s my favorite episode, and he told me you wrote it and I honestly can’t believe it.” She gives me a grin, flashing braces. “I want to be a writer someday, too. I’m Emily, by the way. I’m ten.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Emily. This is Ivy.” I gesture to my girlfriend. “She’s worked on the cooking showSouthern Charmas a stylist, so she’s in the TV business too.”
“Hi, Emily,” Ivy says. “It’s lovely to meet you. Liam is a great writer, isn’t he?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emily nods eagerly. “I’ve watched your show, too. I prefer adult programming because I’m a ‘miracle baby.’” She uses air quotes. “My parents are fifty-five and fifty-seven.”
That explains her aura of mini-adult. “You said Ford’s your cousin?”
“Yes, sir. His father and mine are brothers. Okay, bye!” She runs off, kicking a little bit of sand over Ivy’s back.
I shake my head, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called sir in my life.”
“She called me ma’am. That was definitely a first. It’s charming, though it makes me feel old.”
Sliding my hands down her thighs, I lean forward and murmur, “You’re not old, but even when you are, you’ll still be gorgeous.”
“You must be Liam and Ivy.”
The unexpected woman’s voice startles me. I jerk back guiltily, since I was dangerously close to squeezing Ivy’s ass. I turn and see a tall woman wearing a floppy hat, a flowing dress, and a lightweight sweater. She’s nailed the coastal grandma fashion look.
She elegantly drops into one of the four beach chairs Harrison set up. “I’m Daphne, Harrison’s mother.” She drapes her hand out for me to take.
I scramble to my feet, wiping my hands on my trunks.