“Boat, yacht, dinghy, whatever floats his boat.”
She gave me that warming laugh of hers.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and led her back to the house.
After the rest of the tour, Melody sat at the kitchen bar while I poured two glasses of champagne.
“Ben, growing up here had to be amazing. The life you have lived...”
I grabbed the wine chiller from the freezer, placed the bottle inside, and set it on the counter. “I wouldn’t call my life amazing.”
“This house has its own elevator and five floors!”
I handed Melody her glass and clinked mine against it. “To getting to know each other better.”
Her jaw tensed, and I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head, but I wasn’t going to push. I watched as she gulped the bubbles down, then took our glasses and placed them by the sink.
“I thought we could take a walk on the beach,” I said, then turned back around and stood in front of her. “After, I wanted to take you to lunch at this seafood shack we would always go to, then I can take you home. How does that sound?”
She narrowed her brow at me. “We aren’t staying?”
I looked around the room. “I don’t see an overnight bag.”
She released an auditory exhale.
I stepped between her legs and stared down at her.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Yes.”
I chuckled at her quick response.
My Songbird was right to be nervous.
I took the fallen golden strand in my hand and placed it behind her left ear. I felt her shiver from my touch.
“I promise to try to behave.”
“That’s why I’m nervous...” She looked up at me, batting those long lashes. “I don’t think I want you to.”
Damn! Now, she had me quivering.
“I have butter everywhere.” Melody laughed.
“Don’t tempt me, woman. I may have to clean you up with my tongue.”
Her brow arched as she laughed harder.
I took Melody to the crab shack down the street from the house.
“Ben, why didn’t your mom pick a place in the Hampton’s? Isn’t that where the rich and famous from New York’s society have their summer homes?”
“My mother didn’t want to be anywhere near that place. She wasn’t pretentious. My father gifted the house to her.”
She shocked me with a whistle. “Some gift.”
I leaned over the picnic table and wiped the edge of her mouth with my finger. She had a piece of crab hanging off, and I placed it in my mouth.
“Mmm, you do taste good.”
She turned a shade pinker before she threw an empty crab claw at me.
“In Louisiana, my grandparents would have crab boils.”
“I went to something like that in Boston, but it was on the beach.”
She smiled at me while she cracked another crab.
“Ours was in the backyard. My grandpa would lay newspapers on the picnic table and pour crabs, corn, and potatoes on top. We didn’t have it often, but every time we did, I felt rich.”
“You were richer than you knew.”
I looked out across the ocean. It warmed my heart, hearing Melody’s stories about her family.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Ben. I know sharing isn’t your thing.”
I took a swig from my beer bottle.
“Sharing is my thing when it’s with the right person.”
She nodded, and those deep browns studied my face for a moment. Then she raised her beer bottle and tipped it toward me.
Her eyes never leaving mine.
“I don’t see you as a vanilla kind of guy.” She licked her cone.
With every lick, my balls became bluer, and it was my damn idea to get ice cream.
I took Melody to the neighboring pier, and we walked around, browsing the shops along the way. By midday, the temperature was perfect, turning out to be better than expected. When we first arrived, there were very few people out, but by five, the place was busy with locals and tourists.
“I see you more as a chocolate lover—or wait—swirl.” She laughed.
“Keep laughing, and you’ll find yourself covered in vanilla.”
“Hmmm... that doesn’t sound bad.” She giggled.
Just as we walked past a store, I pushed her into the small alley. Melody stared up at me as she struggled to control her breathing.
“You are killing me, Songbird,” I said as I slid my lips across her forehead. “I’m trying not to touch you, but you keep it up, and you will find yourself mine.”
When she fluttered those long lashes and slowly smiled, I was undone. This bird had me.
I kissed her passionately until she was out of breath, then kissed her again.
“Before we head back, I thought we could relax in front of the bonfire with some wine. I’m finding I don’t want this day to end.”
She bit her lower lip and nodded.
Melody and I watched the sun as it set, sitting next to the fire. I brought out the charcuterie board my housekeeper prepared and poured a bottle of my father’s Piedmont’s Barolo, an Italian red that paired perfectly with the cheeses. Melody seemed to love the food, and we opened a second bottle of wine.
“I’ll need to call Scott to come get us if we polish off another bottle.”
She snuggled up to me and looked up. “Thank you for today.”
“You are more than welcome.”
“I’m not as experienced as the women I know you’ve been with.”
That came out of the blue, and I assumed it was the wine talking. Melody needed to understand finally that those women had nothing on her. She was perfect.
“Melody.”
“Ben, please let me finish. I’ve only been with a couple of guys.”
My hands balled up. The last thing I wanted to hear was who she had fucked. I was no saint; she was right about that. None of the women I had been with were virgins, that was for sure.
Fuck. A couple of guys?
I ran my hand through my hair, reciting her words in my mind.
“I’m telling you this because... I don’t want the night to end. I want to finish this bottle, for you not to call Scott, and to show me to your bedroom.” She swallowed.
I looked into her eyes, scanning for any doubt she might have.
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
I stood, causing her to sit up in the chair, and grabbed the bottle of wine.
“We can finish this upstairs.”
I couldn't get upstairs fast enough.
Chapter Twelve
Melody
Being with Ben felt... right. Perfect in every way.
Ben was everything I’d hoped for and a lot more. I felt things I hadn’t felt before, and there were times I thought I would literally explode.
It was more emotional than I had experienced, yet he understood me.
I was scared out of my mind. He told me to get out of my head, but it was our first time. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how much he tried, and he did try—very well.