Sunsets at Seaside(26)
He laughed, then touched his forehead to hers. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe we should have parameters, like a three-date rule or something.” She lifted one shoulder and blushed.
“Babe, tell me what you want and I’ll do the best I can, even if it means three cold showers a day. What is a three-date rule?”
“You know, like we won’t be intimate for three dates, then…” She lifted her shoulders. “Then I guess we go with whatever we feel.”
“Three dates? We went to the flea market, then the beach. Is that two?”
She laughed again. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Okay, so no touching for three dates.” He nodded. “I can handle that.”
Her smile faded.
“What?”
“I thought we were talking about being really intimate, not touching.”
He groaned again. “I have a feeling I’m going to get detention for misbehaving. There are too many gray lines I might cross.”
“Okay, okay. How about this? Nothing below the waist for three dates.” She drew a line across her waist with her hand. “For either of us.”
“Thanks for the clarification. I thought I might get lucky.” He pulled her into his arms. Nothing below the waist. He felt a little like he was a kid again, wanting more from a girl than he probably should. He wanted below the waist—he wanted above the waist. He wanted all of her. But for Jessica to feel comfortable and safe, he didn’t mind holding back. “I’d wait a month if you wanted to.”
“This means you can still kiss me, you know.” She pursed her lips.
“If I have to.” He took her in a greedy kiss that left them both breathless.
JAMIE PULLED THE car into a parking lot and parked in front of Zia Pizzeria.
“Are we having pizza?” Jessica loved pizza, though she rarely ate it. She didn’t allow herself to indulge in much of anything outside of the cello. Now she wanted nothing more than to do just that.
“If you’d like.” He cut the engine and stepped from the car.
When he opened her door, wearing a white tee that pulled tight across his chest and wrapped itself around his biceps like a second skin, the breeze carried the scent of his cologne, something masculine and spicy that sent a little thrill through her.
How on earth will I make it through three dates with you smelling like that?
Jessica wore jeans and a black lacy tank top. She was so used to wearing fancy clothing when she went out that she was taking full advantage of being on a break from her real life and wearing all the things she’d never had a chance to. Still on tap were her cutoffs, a tight minidress she probably had no business wearing, and she even hoped to find an appropriate place to wear a pair of overall shorts she’d loved on the mannequin when she was shopping for summer clothes.
She turned in the direction of the pizza parlor, her mouth already watering. Jamie draped an arm over her shoulder and turned her around, heading for an ice cream parlor.
“Everyone should experience ice cream for dinner.”
She gasped. “You are a very bad influence, and I really, really like it.” She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling like the luckiest girl on the planet. Not because of the ice cream, but for the thought behind it. Jamie had listened to what she’d said when she was talking to his grandmother, and that meant a lot to her. The few men she’d dated were very self-important, and she’d always felt like an afterthought.
After getting waffle cones bursting with enough ice cream to feed three people, they drove down to Nauset Beach and walked along the shore while they ate. Jamie held her cone while she put on the sweatshirt she’d brought and rolled up her jeans; then she held his cone while he rolled up his jeans.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked as she handed him back his cone.
“You keep my engine running pretty hot.” He reached for her hand, and even after all they’d said to each other earlier in the day, she felt herself blush.
In the distance, a red light blinked up high in a lighthouse. It was nice walking hand in hand with the sounds of the waves lapping at the shore beside them.
“You have to taste this.” She held up her cone for him to taste.
“I don’t think I like chocolate. Let me try it this way.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “Yup. I like Jessie chocolate better.”
“You’re a goof.”
He laughed. “Tell me about yourself, Jess. I know you like chocolate ice cream, you play the cello, you dislike technology—which I’ll change if I have my way—and you love your father. What don’t I know?”