Page 72 of One More Chance
Jensen
This week has passed too quickly.It’s already Friday, and while I’m excited for the weekend, for time with Harper, I realize before I know it she’ll be going home. The thought makes me sad. Actually, not just sad. Sick to my stomach, like there’s a large rock in the pit of it, weighing me down.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she says, bounding into the bathroom, interrupting my thoughts.
My eyes wander over her body. Her short hair is back in a messy ponytail, her face carries no makeup, maybe only a little lip balm. I sweep my gaze down over her legs, which look great in her cutoff jean shorts, then back up again over her tank top stretched over the black string bikini tied up beneath it.
“Oh my,” I say, exhaling.
She pushes sunglasses up on her head and clips a fanny pack around her waist. “What?”
“You just look,” I pause, “really good. Even if you are wearing a fanny pack.”
“Don’t make fun of my fanny pack. It’s badass,” she says, attempting to suppress a laugh.
I hold my hands up in mock innocence. “Let’s get out of town.”
We hop in and hit the road early, attempting to avoid traffic. Harper plugs her phone in and hits a button. “I made a road trip playlist,” she says.
“I hope it’s good,” I tease.
“It’s the best,” she says. “Don’t worry.”
We’re thirty minutes down the highway before I realize the music is all songs we’ve referenced since knowing each other. I smile both outwardly and inwardly. Harper leans over toward the center console and reaches for my hand, tangling her fingers with mine. This is contentment. This is that comfortable silence people always seem to talk about. Neither of us feel the need to fill the space with words, both of us relaxed and just enjoying being around the other.
“So, where are we staying when we get there?” she asks after a little while.
“I found a little rental right on the water. An Airbnb.”
“Right on the water?”
“Yep,” I clarify. “The patio opens right up to the beach.”
“Oh my gosh, that sounds amazing,” she says.
There’s a reason why I hadn’t let her see the place, although I could easily show her photos. There’s a reason I didn’t just book a hotel room, too. I want Harper to have the very best experience, one where we wouldn’t have to waste time driving to the beach or seeing it from a distance first. I squeeze her hand instinctively. Harper deserves perfection.
My phone rings but I quickly dismiss the call, seeing that it’s work. I told them I wasn’t coming in today, that I wouldn’t be available this weekend. They can wait.
We pull into the driveway of our small rental after another two hours of driving and rest stops. The small bungalow sits in a nice area, and I all but abandon the car to get Harper to the beach as quickly as I can.
“Leave everything in the car, I’ll come back for it,” I say, hopping out and waving her to follow me. I lead her to the gate on the side of the house, the one I know leads straight to the back, straight to the water. “Close your eyes,” I urge.
She gently closes them, allowing me to lead her through.
I position her a little way’s away from the water, her eyes still shut tight. Walking behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and lean down, pressing my lips near her ear. “Okay, now open them,” I whisper.
I can’t see her face, but I hear the ragged sharp intake of breath filling her. She smooths her hands down over mine on her hips, leaning back into me. “This is amazing,” she says.
For a moment, I think she might be crying or near crying. There’s so much emotion in her voice, so much raw feeling.
“So you like it?” I ask.
“I love it,” she says.
A rush of air leaves my lungs, relief washing over me. I press my eyes closed and listen to the water lap onto shore. My favorite part of being near the ocean has always been the sounds it makes.
“You go dip your toes in. I’ll get our stuff from the car.” I press a quick kiss to her lips before turning back.