He entices her to follow him down towards the shore, though it doesn't take much for her to find herself at his side. They stroll slowly, fingers locked and eyes catching every now and then as they pass the pool that ripples and shimmers invitingly in the cool afternoon breeze.
Kate lets out a noise before she means to, a soft sigh of longing as she watches the movements of the water - wants to let it bob and buoy her along - and Castle turns, twists an arm low around her waist to keep her moving.
"Later." He grumbles, growls at the shell of her ear, promises all at once.
She laughs and reaches for his collar only to have him duck out of her grasp. She sees why when they approach the arch. Castle tugs her fingers behind her, but pushes her ahead of him almost forcing her to pull him along and she laughs as they stumble.
Every step collides or tugs them awkwardly, makes them cling and the soft stroke of his fingers within her hands is tickling, teasing. Beautiful.
Finally she gives up and lets him lead, his slow pace almost hypnotizing and their languid steps threading them through shadow and dappled sunlight, meandering ever closer to the shore.
When he pauses at yet another gate she glances up, one hand still in his and the other shielding her eyes from the sun. Kate finds herself graceless and lost for words at the sight before her, thankful for the time it takes Castle to open the gate and the extra seconds she has to look up.
The wood of the arch is obviously old, but well loved and cared for, splinters of white paint crack here and there but overall there is evidence of a tender hand having taken the time with each intricately woven piece of timber.
The beams above their heads are latticed and speckled rays of late afternoon sun rain down from above in a shower of white and yellow and deep mahogany shadow. It casts glittering flecks of gold over their skin, great shafts of light spilling in every direction.
It's beautiful. Almost mystical, definitely magical and Kate lets herself get lost in watching the tiny particles of dust and sand that dance in the rays before her face, the warmth of the lights that drenches her skin and the golden radiance that surrounds her.
She's in awe of it.
She forgets Castle is by her side until the gentle press of his fingers over the back of her hand brings her attention and focus away from the flirtation of sunlight and back to his face, his presence.
His head is tilted towards her, a soft indulgent look playing over his features so enamoured and in love with her that she finds herself blushing. Warmth suffuses her face, her cheeks hot and as she dips her head down out of his sight his hand rises, fingertips at her jaw to hold her head up.
He wants to see her.
He leans in and kisses her simply. A quick brush of his lips over hers but as her eyes close it's not his face that she sees but another image altogether.
The two of them, together, standing exactly like this, under this beautiful white arch in the summer sun, with the wind in their hair and their lips touching.
Bare feet.
Him in a suit and her wearing white.
Kate touches his face, clings to his fingertips and surges up into Castles arms, a smile playing through the soft caress of lips and tongue. She kisses him for the day they're sharing, for the reassuring words he gives her when she needs them and for the image that flutters in her mind. For his patience and kindness and the delicate, ferocious way he loves her. Inside and out.
She kisses him for letting her love him back. For allowing her the time to do it right.
She kisses him for all the things she wants to tell him, to share with him and the future that lies ahead of them - thanks to him.
She stops at the edge of the wet sand, feeling the dampness of each grain sticking to her toes and when she casts her eyes over her shoulder Kate can't help but laugh at the sight of Castle trotting towards her, holding her shoes and his own.
"Bare feet?" He calls, "Really?"
"I'm letting loose." She calls back, raising her voice over the crash of the waves, "Like you told me I should, remember?"
"I do." He turns on the spot as if looking for something and shrugs when he can't find it. Without a second thought Castle dumps their shoes unceremoniously into a little heap of leather and laces.
"Hey!" Kate flinches, but smiles when he hurries to her side.
"I remember the letting loose comment, " Castle nods, "I do not remember agreeing to be your personal donkey."
"Donkey?" She laughs, watching as he loses footing in the sand and slips towards her.
He rights himself and strides straight at her, ignoring the laughter that greets him. "Carting your junk around while you paddle in the ocean."
"It's not junk. Those are lea- mm." His fingers slide into her hair and he presses his thumb to her lips to quieten her.
"Beckett?" Castle leans in close and tilts forward, looking down the length of his nose almost as if looking at her over the top of invisible spectacles. He leans closer, closer still until his lips are hovering over the thumb that separates their lips.
"Mmm?" She swallows thickly, feels her heart begin to race.
"Shut up."
Her eyes flutter closed as he kisses her in the sand, taking her off her feet so that she has to step back and with a shocked gasp Kate clings to him, yelping as cold sea water washes over her toes.
Castle laughs at her reaction, a loud, joyous sound that tickles against her lips until she shoves him away from her, claiming his hand so he can't go far.
"Fine, " She huffs, "but that is the one and only time you'll be getting away with that this weekend, Castle."
He grins back like he doesn't believe her and she smiles sweetly, before yanking him off his feet and into the water with her, his girlish squeal the only confirmation Kate needs.
They walk for a little while, pausing now and then to kiss or look at a bird over head. Castle yelps when he steps back and slips on something, insisting it's alive only to find a rock or some seaweed, a piece of driftwood, anything other than the sea monster he insists on believing it to be.
The water kisses the sand, each rolling wave of white foam just shying away from their feet and Kate watches the ripples of water as they walk, her head on Castle's shoulder and the soft sweep of his fingers a heartfelt metronome that keeps them moving steadily.
She falters in step when something catches her eye.
It sits where the water rushes back, a cloud of sea foam acting as a natural cushion and setting off the color of the shell. Suddenly, for no knowable reason she can think of, she wants it.
Kate releases Castle's hand and she can almost sense the questions before he speaks. She's about to throw him a look and hold up a hand to ask for patience when he stills. His hands drop to his sides and, though he stands behind her, her intrinsic awareness of him kicks in.
She knows he gets it, that he gets she doesn't have an explanation right now, a silent communication passes between them, an ease of being that makes everything simpler.
As they often have before - without words - they come to an understanding.
Kate drops to her knees, denim fast absorbing the sea water and she can feel the cold of the ocean leaching through to her skin. She pays it no attention. The coldness of her body will be Castle's problem later on and she promises herself, his mission will be to find a solution to her chilly predicament.
Hot hands, warm lips, the heat of the shower - maybe spread out before that gorgeous poolside fireplace? All manner of visions pass through her mind, but, as he keeps reminding her - later!
Her fingers dig into the cloying grains of sand, not particularly pleasant as clumps worm their way under her nails, yet Kate relishes the feel of the sand between her fingers, clinging to her hands. She could let herself get so lost in the fantasy of being with Castle at the Hamptons that the feel of squishy, wet sand in her palms is welcome. Grounding. It brings back an element of reality that she sorely needs.
Kate digs further and finds what she first thought was one small shell in actuality quite large and clearly not alone. She seems to have stumbled upon a cluster of varying sizes and shapes, but of the six or so that she's uncovered there is only really one that she wants.
It's soft, pearlescent and pink, fading at the edges and buried a hell of a lot deeper than she first assumed. When her fingers scrape over the sides of another well worn shell she gasps, hisses in pain at the sting that assails her fingertips, the graze of missing skin to her knuckles that burns in the salted sand.
Castle is at her side in a second, tugging her hand up and running the pads of his own fingers over her skin as though soothing her with an invisible balm. Strangely it works. Their eyes meet, a silent question lingering between them and she nods, yes, she's okay, better now at any rate.
The power of his touch seems to draw the sudden sting from her skin and Kate steadies herself on one leg. She sees then that Castle has dropped down next to her in the sand, his own knees soaked right through, nothing but love and concern across his face.
"Better?" He asks, but the lump in her throat rises up from nowhere and is too large to speak around. No words could find their way past it.
"Beckett?" He tries again, but her eyes fall to the shell still buried between them. To the edges worn with time, rubbed flat and smooth by a persistent sea.
The shell - grey turning to pink - curls in on itself but opens up and out at the tips. With swirls and conical patterns both vivid and pale over it's surface, worn well with time - like scars.
She traces a thin line and holds her breath, finds a familiarity in the pattern and Kate touches at it with the tips of her fingers. She lets Castle lay claim to her other hand and keep it for the time being, feeling him still smoothing over her now forgotten injury.
It takes a little digging, Castle's presence and her own determination, but suddenly the shell slides free. A laugh bubbles up from her chest and she rises up with the little treasure still clutched tight in her hand, throwing her arms around his shoulders.
"Kate?" Castle laughs, caught up in her happiness and the smile and the hug and her, everything about her.
"I love you." She says softly, the shell - softened and hardened, scarred, and far too symbolic for what it actually is - clutched tight in her fist.
His eyes are blue, like the ocean, when she says it and his lips the same soft coral color as the seashells that lay scattered around them.
Those blue eyes widen and his lips pop apart in surprise before he smiles and it comes at her again - another wave on a different shore - how much she loves him. How it hurts and aches and terrifies her to let it be known. How it fills her up with absolute joy at the same time. How worth it everything has been for them to be here, together.
It's better than saying it with tears in her eyes in bed their first night together or because she's dying slowly in the grass, bleeding out.
And it's not as if she hasn't said it before - because she has at least a dozen times since they dove into this. It's not that she didn't mean it, didn't understand the depth of her feelings, because she did.
No, it's simply the 'them' of it all. The indefinable, inexplicable wondrous, crazy, silly thing that exists between them. In fact she's starting to wonder if a small part of her has always been in love with this man.
The jackass and the genius, the lover and the lunatic.
Hers.
"I love you too." Castle says with a smile spreading his cheeks wide and darting out over his lips like it's threatening to set up camp there if she doesn't at least try and drive it away with a kiss.
But then he's pushing her to her feet and dropping her hands to cup her cheeks and grinning at her like he read every thought in her head as they traipsed through that archway and his eyes light up mischievously - and god, Castle, not yet!
He laughs with her, at them, intoxicated by how much he loves them both, her the woman in his arms and them, the slightly screwy couple they get to be together, and all of it right there on his face until it's too much.
Too much.
She pushes the shell into his pocket, doesn't tell him she spied at least another dozen further down the beach that she wants, but that can wait until later. Right now, with her hands in his pockets and him holding her face, she just wants another soft, sweet moment to share and Kate kisses him.
Kisses him.
And kisses him.