Chapter 5: Return to state
It had taken the drive to the Club, and six holes before Remington was fairly confident Laura wasn't trying to contrive a reason to cut short their plans for the day, to invent a reason to hide away from him. The comfort of that realization allowed him to finally relax, and once he had, those guileless touches that had been ever-present during their association returned, quite on their own, which, in turn, served to soothe Laura, allowing the tension to leave her shoulders while vanquishing the strain around her eyes. By the time they'd completed the eighteenth hole, the easy camaraderie that had characterized the finest days of their relationship had reasserted itself, and their casual banter was easily restored.
Enough so that he gave no thought to reaching for her hand as they walked from the pro shop to the club, where they'd planned to share a late lunch. But it was when she'd intuitively weaved their fingers together that he made a hopeful decision to change their plans for the remainder of the afternoon.
"Laura…"
"Yes?"
"What's say we forgo lunch at the club and eat at the Pier instead." She turned her face towards him, while giving her head a quizzical tilt.
"But you hate the food at the Pier."
"Hate is such a strong word. There was a time in my life that a hot dog," he said the word with a touch snobbish disdain, "Would have been a most welcome feast. Yes, my palate has refined since, but that doesn't prevent me from appreciating simple fare." He stopped walking and tuned to face her. "Or, more specifically, enjoying watching someone…' he lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles, while holding her eyes with his own, "…as she derives a great deal of… pleasure… from it."
Blush suffusing her cheeks, she agreed to the change in plans. They dined on hot dogs and frenh fries, then took a long, leisurely stroll along the beach, before returning to the pier so that she might indulge her love of air-spun cotton. As she plucked pieces of the sticky treat off the cone, they walked the length of the pier, stopping at the end to enjoy the view as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon
He surprised her when, instead of leaning against the rail next to her as he normally would, he stepped behind her, and braced himself against one arm, his hand pressed against the railing next to hers, while embracing her slim frame with his other. She instinctively took a short step backwards, and stroking a hand down his arm, lay her right hand over his, where it rested against her stomach, her eyes still firmly on the horizon as the sun lit the sky red, pink and orange, as though it were setting the water afire.
"The view is beautiful," she murmured.
"Stunning," he observed, although he was referring not, in the least, to the sunset. Shifting slightly, a pair of fingers turned her chin, then tipped it up. She watched as his lips descended then pressed against hers, their eyes meeting when their lips parted, only for both pairs to close as he leaned in again. His lips settled over hers, teasing, tasting, he humming low in his throat when a touch of the tip of his tongue to her lower lip had her parting willingly for him. His tongue traced the back of her teeth, before settling in to stroke, taste, dance with hers. He ended the kiss with two whispering brushes of his lips against hers. Enfolding her in his embrace again, she nuzzled her head against his shoulder, her hand returning to rest atop his.
"Come back to my flat with me," he suggested quietly, while giving her waist a squeeze. He felt her almost imperceptibly stiffen against him, and ran a firm, soothing hand up and down her arm. "I'll toss us together a bite to eat, then, after, perhaps a bit of champagne before the fire. Hmmmmm?" His own nerves threatened as he awaited her answer.
"Alright," she finally agreed, elongating the word, unintentionally revealing her reluctance.
Hesitant or not, he'd take it, because unless he managed to get her behind the same closed door as he, he'd not a chance of making things right between them.