"It wouldn't matter if I was Peyton Manning," Jude said, pursing his lips. "With you running around in that more-string-than-swimsuit thing"-his hands gestured up and down me again-"no eyes would be turned in my direction."
I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't help the laugh that sneaked out. It was kind of cute when he was mildly upset. It wasn't as cute when he was full-blown pissed.
Jude's eyes latched onto something behind me. "Hey, jerk-off!" he hollered, narrowing his eyes. "Unless you want to be reading your monthly issue of Playboy in braille the rest of your life, you'd better turn your eyes now!"
I rested my hand on his side and ran my thumb in slow circles. Slow, calming circles. "Could you get any more territorial?" I teased.
"Ever heard of the Middle East, Luce?" he said, smirking. "Covered head to toe in layers upon layers of material." He tickled my sides. The worst was over.
"Ever heard of Europe?" I shot back in between fits of laughter. "Topless sunbathing? I thought you'd once said you were a fan of it."
"Ballbuster," he mumbled, before holding the sweatshirt back up. "Come on. Put this on?" he asked. He asked. He didn't order, demand, or command. He asked. Well, he almost pleaded.
"Okay," I said, because I couldn't say no. I grabbed the sweatshirt from him and slid it on. Warm, cozy, and smelled just like him. I was half considering jacking this tomorrow when I headed back to NYC.
"'Okay'?" He was looking at me like he was waiting for the punch line.
I slid the hood into position for good measure. "Okay."
"Just when I think I've got you all figured out, Lucy Larson," he said, winding his arm around my neck and pulling me close, "you go and do something totally unexpected. Like listen to me."
I slid my hand into the back pocket of his jeans as we headed toward my little slice of beachfront property. "Also in the fine print, below ballbusting," I said, hip-checking him, "soon-to-be wives are required to keep soon-to-be husbands on pins and needles at all times."
"Ahh," he said, "I really need to check out all that fine print."
"If you don't get to reading it, I'm sure I'll manage to give you a real-life demonstration of each and every point somewhere along the way," I said as we approached my beach towel. "What's for dinner? And please don't pull a can of caviar and a bottle of champagne from that bag or else I'm calling for an intervention."
He held out the paper bag for me. "Because I knew it would . . ." My brows lifted. ". . . absolutely not make you happy or unhappy, because money has no say in your happiness meter"-he popped his brows, obviously pleased with himself-"I picked up a few fish tacos from a street vendor and some cheap beer from a gas station."
He grinned like the devil and shook the bag. I grabbed it and plopped down on the towel before tearing it open. "Fish tacos from a street vendor and PBR?" I said, not sure whether to go for the beer or the tacos first. My stomach made the decision for me. "That, my love, makes me very, very happy." I pulled out a wrapped taco and tossed it into his lap once he sat down.
"Of course a dinner that cost me ten bucks would make you happy," he said, tearing the wrapper back. "Can you be any more infuriating?"
That was the million-dollar question.
Snagging a beer from the bag, I twisted the cap off and handed it to him. "Wow. You really missed the fine print if you don't know the answer to that, babe."
He bit off half the taco and rolled his eyes. "Eat your dinner," he said around a mouthful of food. "I can hear your stomach grumbling from over here."
Tearing my wrapper back from mine, I tapped his before taking a bite.
Damn. Okay, so Cali could rock the sun, the beach, and the fish tacos.
"Good?" Jude asked as I continued the love affair in my mouth.
I remembered my manners and waited until I'd swallowed my food before answering. "Good is an insult to the greatness that is this fish taco." I took another bite as Jude grabbed another beer out of the bag. After twisting the cap off, he held it out. "Finish it with a swig of this and life will be redefined as you know it, Luce."
I didn't even wait to finish chewing before I took a drink. Holy taste-bud orgasm.
"Yeah, that's the stuff," he said, clinking his bottle against mine before taking a drink.
"I. Love. You," I said, taking another bite. "So. Much. So, so much."