“Do you think you could have it up and running by next spring?” Brooke asked her.
“Is that when you’re planning on getting married?”
Brooke smiled. “Yeah. Aiden wanted to do it this year, but, seriously, there’s not enough time.” She glanced at Ember. “And not everybody has an event planner for a sister-in-law to pull a rabbit out of the bag.”
“I’m almost certain we could be up and running by next year.” Autumn looked at the pier again, ideas spinning through her head. She couldn’t stop the excitement from bubbling up inside her. She’d spent the last few days trying to figure out how to make a profit from the pier without hiking the rents beyond anything affordable. Using the space for events and weddings could be the exact answer she was looking for. Part of her wanted to run across the sand and up the warm wooden slats of the pier to her office to start working on her plan right away.
But then a movement caught her eye. She turned to see Griff riding a wave, surfing his body into the crest as the board weaved in and out of the spray. He made it look so easy, as though the board was glued to his feet, as he effortlessly surfed to the shallow. When he got there, he jumped off the board and pulled it with him, wading to shore.
“He looks like Aquaman,” Brooke murmured. “But bigger.”
As soon as he spotted Autumn sitting with his friends, Griff grinned and walked over. “Hey, how’s the light bulb?”
“Still working.” Autumn smiled up at him. “Thanks for changing it.”
Ember looked curiously at her. “Did a bulb blow?”
“Yes, last night. But Griff came to the rescue.” She smiled at him again. “Actually, can I talk to you for a minute?”
He blinked. “Yeah, sure.” Pitching his board in the sand, he ran his hand through his wet hair, droplets spraying everywhere. “You wanna take a walk?”
She nodded, following him to the shoreline where there was room to move in a straight line. Blowing out a mouthful of air, she tried to decide what she wanted to say. It’d seemed so easy when she was talking to Lydia earlier.
“So, um, thanks for last night.” God, she was lame.
“Any time.”
“I was wondering about what you said…” She looked up at him. His bronzed skin was covered in water droplets, clinging to him like limpets. The sun reflected from them, making tiny rainbows appear.
“What I said?”
“About kissing me.”
He stopped walking and turned to look at her, his eyes soft. “About wanting to kiss you,” he corrected.
She felt a little flutter of excitement. “Yeah,” she said, her breath catching. “About that.”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “I’m listening.”
She could feel her heart race. “I wanted you to kiss me, too.” She kicked her toes across the surface of the water. “Just so you know.”
That half-smile was still playing on his lips. “I got that impression.” He reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, his finger tips trailing across her skin. “But I’m guessing you don’t mean here.”
She shook her head. “I was thinking you could come over for dinner tonight. I’ll cook for you and we can talk.” She ran her tongue across her lips, tasting the salt of the ocean. “And maybe kiss again.” She looked at him through her lashes.
“Yeah. We can do that.” His voice was low. Thick. It sent a shiver through her. “What time do you want me?”
“Does six work?”
“It does for me.”
She let out a long breath. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah, you will.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against her brow, his hand cupping the back of her head. The warmth of his mouth was like a shock to her skin. Then he was gone, walking back across the sand as he lifted his board with one hand, waving goodbye to her with the other.
“You okay?” Ember asked her once she’d returned.
“Yeah.” Autumn nodded. “I’m good.”
Brooke eyed her speculatively, but said nothing. She could feel their unasked questions lingering in the air.
“So tell me about your wedding plans,” Autumn said to Brooke. “Maybe we can start to work something out.”
Griff ran his fingers through his hair, raking it back from his face before he rapped on Autumn’s front door with his knuckles. Funny to think about how much time he’d spent here over the past few years since Lucas had renovated it. Long hours watching sports on his big screen television, even longer cooking out on his grill and drinking ice cold beers as they laughed. But not once had he felt the rush he was feeling now.
And it was all down to her.
Autumn opened the door, a huge grin on her face. Her hair was down, light brown waves cascading over her shoulders. She was wearing a dress again, this one with spaghetti straps and a fitted bodice that skimmed her curves before it flared out at the waist. Her skin held a light tan, enough for him to guess she’d sat on the beach for a while after he left this morning. The glow suited her, made her even more attractive, if that was possible.
The caveman in him wanted to lift her up and carry her to her bedroom.
“I brought wine,” he said, passing her a bottle as he stooped to kiss her cheek. She was barefoot again, and he liked the way she looked so relaxed. It was as though any vestige of her life in New York had left her, making her as laid back as the Californian sun.
“Sauvignon blanc,” she murmured. “My favorite.”
“I know. I saw the way you were knocking it back last night.” He winked at her.
She shook her head, the grin still lifting her lips, then gestured for him to come inside.
“I’m making steak and potatoes. I hope that’s okay.”
“Are you kidding? I love steak.” He followed her into the kitchen where she opened the bottle and poured them both a glass. She passed one to him and lifted the other. “To new friends,” she said, her eyes sliding to his. “And working light bulbs.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.” The wine was cool and crisp against his tongue. He swallowed it down and put his glass on the counter. Next to it was a plate holding the biggest steak he’d seen in a while. It had to be at least twenty ounces.
“Are we sharing that?”
“That one’s yours. Mine’s here,” Autumn told him, pointing at another plate. “I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be, but I figured you probably eat a lot. You have a busy job and you’re…” she gestured at his height. “You.”
“If you cook it rare, I’ll probably eat the whole thing before you lift a fork,” he told her. “Can I help with anything in here?”
“You can set the table while I cook the steaks,” she said, pointing to the silverware on the side of the counter. “The potatoes are in the oven and the salad’s in the refrigerator. I think I have the food covered.”
The food tasted amazing. Within fifteen minutes Griff had finished everything on his plate, laying his silverware down on the white porcelain and leaning back on his chair to rub his stomach.