Page 34 of Guys Can’t Write Romance
Chapter twenty-three
Barefoot Stumbles and Gentleman Couch
“Let me root, root, root for the home team…”
With the exception of Daisy’s drunken singing, the Venice boardwalk was much quieter now at the late hour.
A soft breeze drifted in from the ocean, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed, and the distant sound of waves accompanied them as she and Chad headed back to his apartment.
The nearly full moon cast everything in a silvery glow, transforming the familiar daytime strip into something almost magical.
“It’s a… something, something, something…” she sang as she wobbled slightly next to Chad, her heels dangling from her fingertips by their straps. Her bare feet and carefree smile were a stark contrast to her usual carefully composed expression.
Chad chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he watched her, his arms ready to catch her in case she wobbled over too far.
There was something unexpectedly endearing about seeing Daisy Fields, the woman who color-coded her Post-its and arranged her books by height, singing off-key baseball songs with absolutely zero self-consciousness.
“What?” she said, catching his gaze and looking at him like it was perfectly normal to be singing (and forgetting the lyrics) while walking along the boardwalk at 1:30 am.
“Nothing,” he said with a smirk, unable to keep the fondness from his voice.
“You were about to tell me my amazing singing talents are matched only by my sparkling personality,” she said, playfully nudging against him with her shoulder, and nearly losing her balance in the process.
“I was about to tell you, you’re a fun drunk,” he replied, steadying her with a gentle hand on her elbow.
“I’m not drunk,” Daisy protested, drawing herself up with exaggerated dignity, though her attempt to appear composed was, unsurprisingly, not working out as well as she thought. “I’m just a little…”
“Wasted?” Chad suggested, his arm moving securely now around her waist to keep her from leaning too far in either direction. The feel of her body against his side sent an unexpected jolt through him.
“No! Giddy. I’m a little giddy.” She emphasized her point with a wobbly finger gesture that undermined her argument entirely.
“Right, giddy girl. Let’s see if we can get you home without a concussion.” His voice was teasing, but the protective way he held her suggested genuine concern beneath the banter.
“Here. I’ll even prove it,” she said, stopping mid-stride and planting her feet solidly on the sand-dusted pavement with the determination of someone about to attempt a high-wire act. Before Chad could say a word, she handed him her heels, pressing them firmly into his chest.
“Hold these,” she said. “Don’t let them run away without me.”
“I’ll guard them with my life,” he said with a light chuckle as he took the heels in one hand while keeping the other ready to catch her. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Proving I’m sober,” Daisy declared with absolute conviction. She pointed to the ground. “Straight line. Watch. Prepare to be dazzled.”
“Dazzled?” Chad snickered, the moonlight catching the amusement in his eyes. “Alright, I’ll bite. Entertain me.”
Daisy lifted her chin, extended her arms out like a tightrope walker, and stepped forward, carefully placing one bare foot in front of the other. She made it exactly three awkward steps before gravity took over, sending her pitching sideways.
Chad lunged forward and caught her before she could actually fall. He looped his arm securely around her waist, pulling her against him with protective instinct. “Wow,” he said, grinning down at her as he held her from falling, their faces now just inches apart. “Consider me dazzled.”
Instead of trying to stand upright, she relaxed in his arms and let him hold her for a moment, the moonlight sparkling in her green eyes as she stared up at him. “Okay, maybe I’m a little drunk,” she admitted, her words slurring slightly as she gave him a conspiratorial smile.
“A little,” Chad repeated, his voice filled with amusement, though his heartbeat had sped up at their sudden proximity. “Major understatement.”
She giggled, the sound unexpectedly musical in the night air. “Okay. Maybe a lot.”
“Was this your devious ploy to get me to put my arms around you?” he said, borrowing her line from the bar.
“Hey. That was my line. You stole it.” She poked him gently in the chest, her finger lingering against his shirt for a moment too long to be casual.
He nodded. “And you’re supposed to say, it was your subtle ploy.”
“It was my sneaky ploy,” she said as he helped her stand upright. Or, as close to upright as she could manage, as she swayed a bit. “Maybe you should keep your arm around me. Just in case.”
“Happy to, giddy girl,” he said as they resumed walking, his arm securely around her waist. The feel of her leaning against him, trusting and unguarded, stirred something protective inside him he wasn’t entirely familiar with.
A few late-night stragglers passed them — a couple walking a small dog, a man on a bicycle with a basket full of groceries — but the boardwalk was mostly theirs, the storefronts dark and shuttered for the night.
The quiet allowed Chad to hear Daisy’s soft humming, no longer trying to remember lyrics but content with the melody.
“You’re good at this,” she murmured after a while, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.
“At what? Walking?” he teased.
“Taking care of people,” she said, before adding softly. “Taking care of me.”
By the time they reached Chad’s apartment, Daisy was an undeniable mess. But a happy one. Chad unlocked the door and gestured her inside, watching with equal parts amusement and concern as she stumbled over the threshold, still clutching her heels like they might escape her entirely.
“You, uh... still good there?” he asked, following behind her and flipping on the lights.
“I’m great,” Daisy said, proudly dropping her shoes onto the floor with a clatter and dramatically collapsing back onto the couch.
As amusing as it was to watch, Chad knew she was going to hate life tomorrow if she passed out on the couch.
“Okay, up we go, Fields.” He scooped her up in his arms, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, and gently lifted her.
“Why is the room moving?” she said giddily, her arms instinctively looping around his neck for stability.
“It’s not,” he said, carrying her toward his bedroom. “You are. I’m putting you somewhere you won’t wake up with Doritos stuck to your cheek.”
He set her down beside the bed, and she flopped back onto it with zero grace, one arm hanging off the edge. For a second, she blinked blearily up at him, her expression softening into something that made his chest tighten unexpectedly.
“This is totally... the nicest bed I’ve ever stolen,” she murmured, her eyes already beginning to close.
“You’re welcome,” Chad said with a light chuckle. He tugged a blanket over her then headed into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water he set on the nightstand beside the bed. He then gathered her shoes and placed them neatly at the foot of the bed.
On his way out, he grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and crashed on the living room couch, eventually dozing off to the sound of distant waves on the shore.