Thinking about Timber’s hard features — his cynical, piercing blue eyes, those lips that I knew were softer than they looked, the feel of his body pressed up against my back, his mouth brushing my ear — my senses kicked into overdrive. I’d never felt my entire body so on alert, and wanton. When he spoke, his deep, gruff voice resonated all the way to my core. There was no doubt that if he had tried to come on to me last night, I would have given in without a second thought. That was not acceptable.
I needed to get myself together before he showed up again. Lying, there I scolded myself for acting like some silly teenager with a school girl crush. And I did have a crush on Timber back then. He was different than the rest of the guys he hung out with. He didn’t come from the same type of family that his friends did. He had worked in the grocery store, bagging groceries and helping old ladies out with their buggies. I knew his buddies gave him a hard time for it, but I’d also overheard him one day tearing them all a new one, saying he had to work for the kicks he wore, but that didn’t make him any less than them. He knew, just like they all did, that he was only accepted into their social circle because he was good looking. How sad it must have been for him to know that his looks were all he had going for him. Except I knew better. I had been a teacher’s assistant in his biology class and I often helped grade papers. Timber was smart. Very smart, in fact. He had once told Mr. Kent that he wanted to go to med school and work in biomedicine. He wanted to find cures for cancer, fix infertility problems, and make the world a better place. I mentally rolled my eyes at that thought. Mr. Perfect wanted to bring world peace. Okay, so technically I threw in the last one about making the world a better place, but really that’s what he had wanted. What teenage boy thinks about those things?
Looking at my clock, I realized I’d been lying here for an hour longer than I normally do. It was Sunday, my beach day. Time to get up, get my bathing suit on and head out. I got dressed in my black bikini, my favorite cut-off shorts that were frayed around the edges, and grabbed a new book I’d borrowed from the library. Throwing on a pair of flip flops, and putting my hair up in a messy bun, I made my way downstairs and through the bar, locking up on my way out. Driving the few blocks to the beach, I got out, grabbed my towel that I kept in my back seat, and walked to my usual spot. It was about thirty yards away from the pier and perfect for sunbathing. When I got myself all situated, I laid on my stomach, flipped to the first chapter of my book and quickly became engrossed in the story. After some time of reading and listening to the sound of the waves rolling onto the sand, I must have dozed off. When I woke up my face was on top of the page I’d last read. My arm felt numb from being raised above my head in an awkward position for so long. Blinking rapidly, I lifted my face and saw someone sitting next to me, blocking the sun.
Sucking in a breath of air, I saw Timber about a foot away with his arms resting on his bent knees, looking out at the water.
“So is this what you do on your days off?” His voice was like a shock to my still dozing body. He must have seen me move, and knew I was awake.
Pushing up with my arms, I rolled over and sat Indian style. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me or something?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Or something,” he smirked.
I shook my head, loose strands of hair falling into my face. “Stalking isn’t an attractive quality, Timber. In fact, most girls would have you arrested for such a thing.”
He turned to face me, his blue eyes startling in the light. “Possibly, but you’re not most girls, are you, Kat?” His grin looked devilish. Tapping his head with his index finger, he said, “See, I remembered.”
“Hmmm… yeah, I guess you did. You want a cookie or something?”
“Are you baking them?”
“What? No! I didn’t mean I was going to bake you cookies. Do you take everything so literal?”
“I was kidding, I knew what you meant.”
“Hmmph. Yeah, I bet.”
His smile widened, with his perfectly white, straight teeth. “But really, if you wanted to bake me some cookies, I’d gladly accept. My favorite is sugar cookies by the way. Feel free to drop them off whenever you want.”
Trying my hardest to glare at him, I said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that. Hopefully I can mix them up well enough that you won’t even taste the arsenic after they bake.”
His deep chuckle made me feel dizzy. “Were you this much of a smartass in high school?”
The mere mention of high school snapped me out of my Timber induced haze. I turned behind me and grabbed the book I had been reading. It looked like it was time to call it an early day and head back to the bar. As I placed the book in my beach sack and moved to stand up, Timber reached out and placed his hand on my forearm.