Page 22 of Blame It on the Bikini (Ocean Shores #4)

Chapter Twelve

When Lexie entered the courtyard shortly after five, there were several people around the pool, which wasn't surprising since it was a warm Friday afternoon.

Josie was at the nearest table, and when she saw her, she jumped to her feet. "Lexie," she said sharply. "I've called you several times."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, moving over to the table where Josie had been playing cards with Margaret, Frank, and Emmalyn.

"Did you take the blue plate of brownies?"

"Uh…I took a plate. Why?"

"Where are they now? Are they in your apartment?"

"No. I gave them to Grayson hours ago. I told you I was going to."

"Oh no. You have to get them back," Josie said, unusual worry in her eyes. "You took the wrong plate of brownies, Lexie. You took the ones I made for Joan. And they were…enhanced."

"Enhanced?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

"They had a special ingredient to help with her chemo symptoms."

"Are you saying…"

Josie met her gaze. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"Maybe Grayson didn't eat any. I'll talk to him."

"Grayson left about a half hour ago," Emmalyn interjected. "And what are you guys talking about? What was in the brownies?"

"Weed," she told Emmalyn.

"Oh, wow," Emmalyn said. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"I ran into Grayson on his way out, and he was really friendly. He gave me a big smile, and when I asked him where he was going, he said the sand and the sea were calling him."

"Oh, my God! I have to find him. I can't believe I got Grayson high."

"Well, technically, it was me," Josie said. "But I told you to take the white plate."

She ignored her aunt as she ran into the parking lot.

Grayson's car was still parked in the lot, so at least he wasn't driving.

She jogged out of the lot and across the beach path, pulling off her sandals as she hit the sand.

There were at least a couple dozen people on the beach.

But Grayson wasn't one of them. She started walking along the sand toward town.

Relief washed over her when she spotted him sitting on the sand.

His suit coat and tie were tossed over the shoes and socks next to him, and he appeared to be talking to a seagull.

"I know what you're thinking," he said to the bird, which had landed a few feet away from him. "You're thinking, 'What's this guy doing in a suit on my beach?' And that's a fair question. Really fair."

The seagull squawked and took off.

"That was rude," Grayson called after it.

Lexie approached slowly, like she might approach a wild animal. "Grayson?"

He turned toward her with a smile that was brighter and more relaxed than any expression she'd ever seen on his face, just as Emmalyn had described.

"Lexie! Perfect timing. I was just having a philosophical discussion with a seagull about appropriate beach attire."

"I heard."

"Did you know seagulls can live up to fifteen years?"

"I did not. Grayson," she said gently, "how are you feeling?"

"Incredible," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Absolutely fantastic. I can't remember the last time I felt this... relaxed. It's like someone turned down the volume on the noise in my head."

"Did you eat the brownies I brought you?"

"Yes, and they were great. The best brownies I've ever had. Just like this day is the best day I've ever had. Especially now that you're here."

"Really?"

"You're so beautiful, Lexie. How are you still single?"

"Sometimes it's a mystery to me. I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait?" he asked, holding up a seashell.

"You need to look at this shell—at the patterns, the lines, the colors.

It's like nature's own artwork." He held it out to her, and she could see genuine wonder in his eyes.

This wasn't the calculating businessman she'd been sparring with for weeks.

This was someone completely unguarded, seeing beauty in a simple seashell.

The shell didn't appear that extraordinary to her—but then, she hadn't had any brownies. "It's pretty." She sat down next to him, having a feeling it would take a little time to explain to Grayson what was going on.

"Think of how many shells get washed up every day, and most people never stop to look at them.

They just walk on by. That's what I would normally do.

" His gaze swung to her. "But you wouldn't walk by.

You'd stop. You'd take a picture. You'd make sure everyone in the world could see the beauty of that one shell.

Because that's what you do. You should take a picture now. Where's your camera?"

"I left it at home." She realized she'd left everything with her aunt, including her phone, but she wasn't going to worry about that now. They were only a few blocks away from Ocean Shores, and she'd fulfilled her responsibilities for the day.

"Too bad. You should take the shell home or go get your camera."

"I'll come back later with my camera," she promised.

"It might not be here then. You might not ever find it again." His gaze grew serious. "Sometimes you don't appreciate what you have. You let it go. You think there will be time to come back later, but maybe there won't be time. Maybe when it's gone, it's gone, and you never get it back."

It felt like he was talking about something personal, something real, and she found herself liking this open, wondering, philosophical version of Grayson.

But this wasn't the real him; this was a drugged version, and it was her fault.

As soon as she told him the truth, he'd probably be furious. And all this happiness would end.

"I want to walk," he said, jumping to his feet. He grabbed his tie and tucked it into the coat pocket before throwing his coat over one shoulder. Then he picked up his shoes and held out his free hand. "Walk with me, Lexie."

How could she resist? She stood up and put one hand in his, holding her sandals in the other hand.

They walked down the endless beach, Grayson rambling on with amazement at so many sights she didn't think he would have ever noticed on a normal day, and all the while his fingers clung to hers.

Suddenly, he stopped abruptly, pointing to a weathered shack with picnic tables on the edge of the sand near a sign for Chuck's Chili. "What's this place?"

"They serve hot dogs, burgers, and fries—all with chili," she said with a laugh.

"Is it good?"

"I like it, but it's not fancy."

"I don't want fancy. I want a chili burger and some chili fries," he said with enthusiasm, his blue eyes lighting up. "Let's go."

"I don't have my wallet."

"I've got mine," he said, patting his pants pocket. "It's on me."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to a nicer place?"

"You said it's good. You're not lying, are you?"

"No. It's good if you like chili."

"And I do." He pulled her across the sand to the restaurant.

They ordered at the counter, then filled their cups with sodas from the fountain and walked outside, grabbing an empty table that was aglow with the setting sun.

"Look at that sky," Grayson said. "All those colors. You should take a picture. Wait, you don't have your phone. Here, take mine."

She waved off the offer of his phone. "It's okay. I've taken a million photos of the sunset over this beach. I need to start getting to other beaches and taking other sunsets."

"We're going to Joshua Tree on Sunday. We should make sure we stay until sunset."

"That would be a good idea," she said, a little chill running down her arms as a gust blew in off the ocean.

His gaze narrowed. "Are you cold? Here, put this on." He pulled his coat off his shoulders to give it to her.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You just shivered." He got up from the table and came around behind her, helping her put on his coat.

She had to admit she felt toasty warm now, not just from the coat, but from the scent of Grayson's cologne that clung to the fabric. "Thanks."

"That's better," he said, sitting down across from her. "You’re so pretty, Lexie."

She flushed, knowing it was one thing to let him talk about sunsets and seashells and another to let him talk about her.

"You make it hard to stay away from you," he added.

"Why do you want to stay away from me?"

He met her gaze. "Because I'll be leaving in two weeks. It's not enough time."

"Enough time for what?" She really needed to stop asking questions, but she couldn't seem to stop. Grayson was normally so guarded. She had to take the opportunity in front of her.

"You know what," he replied.

Her cheeks grew warm at the look in his eyes. "I—I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say or do. It is what it is." He looked more somber now. "I just wish we'd met somewhere else, under different circumstances."

"If that were the case, you probably wouldn't have looked at me twice."

"Not true. Once I saw you, I wouldn't have been able to stop looking at you."

"We live in different worlds, Grayson."

"I want to live in your world. I want to have adventures. I have never felt as alive as I did when we went into that cave together. I thought I was a risk-taker, but that was only in business, not in life. I took a risk that day. So did you."

She nodded. "I needed to push myself. But I might have chickened out if you hadn't been with me."

"You're brave. You would have done it."

"I don't know about that. But I'm glad you were with me, and I want to have more experiences like that, too." She paused. "There's nothing stopping you from doing the same. Just because you run a company doesn't mean you can't have adventures."

"My father didn't. He worked nonstop his whole life. He was always the first man in to work and the last man out, and that's what he taught me to do. He said that's how you make it. And I can't argue with his success."

"But do you think he sacrificed other parts of his life to be at work?"

"I know he did. You can put my mother at the top of that list. They've been living separately for years."

"That's sad."

"Actually, I think they're both fine with it."

"Are you also on the list?"