CHAPTER 7

~Josh's POV~ –

The three meetings Donna and I have with various Democratic contributors go pretty well. The first two require my Bulldog side to come out to put a handful of minor players in the party in their proper place. You don't threaten the President, even in a backhanded way. When you're as low on the totem pole as these bozos are, you better not even THINK of it. And I made that point painfully clear. The smug jerks that entered the meeting room left with their tails between their legs.

Donna, who has always been in synch with me, read my plays perfectly, interjecting when appropriate and setting me up for the kill when the time was right. We worked together like a well-oiled machine. She had all the supporting ammunition and I just had to use it against these assholes. We shouldn't have any more trouble getting them to shut their mouths and do their jobs of lining up donors anymore.

Our last meeting was actually a pleasant one. We met with a legendary Democratic operative in Southern California. Daniel O'Donnell was the long time mayor of Santa Monica and if not for the fact that he lands a bit farther to the left than will get someone elected to a higher office, he would have been Governor at some point in his career. The meeting was more of a strategy session. Being an old friend of Leo's, he's been tasked with being the home field player to help Donna and I get our point across to the attendants of Sunday's party. We spent the first half hour discussing the who and how and the last half hour grinding old war stories about Leo out of O'Donnell. The old man took an instant liking to Donna and he freely included her in the conversation. At one point, as they were trading ideas on how to get same sex marriage through the California legislature, I looked across the table and felt an enormous sense of pride well up in me. Here was Donna, going toe to toe with a longtime and well-respected member of the Democratic Party like she was talking to her uncle at Thanksgiving dinner. I'd like to take some credit for her skills as a politician, but honestly, she's a natural. I may have taught her a thing or two, but the rest is just raw talent and her ability to absorb the best from those around her.

This is just one of the many, many reasons I love her. Yeah, I've accepted it. I love this woman. More than I've ever loved anyone before. More than I can ever imagine loving anything else. Yesterday only solidified and brought to the forefront that which I have been hastened to admit to myself in the past. But no more. I don't give a shit what C.J. or Toby or Leo think anymore. I don't care what the rest of D.C. or the world want to throw at us. I don't care if this creates complications for the administration. We won reelection already. If anyone tries to mess with this thing Donna and I have, I will fight until my dying breath to make them pay. I've fought for the rights of individuals to live free and happy lives my entire career and fought to keep what makes me feel free and happy at arm's length for the last five plus years. I won't do it anymore. I can't. Donna is my oxygen. I need her to breath. I just hope she feels the same way. If I've been reading her right, she does. I just need to hear the words from her and I'm in this 200%.

As she and O'Donnell continue their conversation, I excuse myself saying I need to touch base with Leo and let him know how everything is going. I walk out in to the hall and do quickly check in with Leo. But my real reason for stealing a few minutes of privacy is I want to set up something special for Donna.

I pull the hotel card I grabbed off my nightstand from my pocket and dial the front desk. I ask to speak with our little friend Chad from check in. I'm put on hold briefly before I'm connected.

"Loews Santa Monica, this is Chad speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi, this is Mr. Lyman. I'm staying in the Palm Suite."

"Oh yes, Mr. Lyman. I hope your finding your stay with us satisfactory?"

"Ugh, yeah, fine. Listen, I don't have much time, but I need to set something up and have it charged to my personal card, not the business card on file."

"No problem Mr. Lyman, what can I help you with?"

I explain my plan to Chad and after answering a few of his questions, he assures me he'll personally make sure everything gets taken care of. I give him my credit card number and convey my appreciation for the last minute help before hanging up. I look down at my watch and notice it's almost noon, give or take 15 minutes. This watch has seen better days. Time for our 48 hours of fun! We don't have anything besides hanging out with Sam until Sunday afternoon.

With a skip in my step, I head back in to the meeting room to snag Donna away. I enter the room to laughter from both Donna and O'Donnell. She's got a great laugh. I don't get to hear it enough. Hopefully that will all change now.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, your honor, but we have to get going. Are we all set for Sunday then?" I ask, standing beside Donna with my hands in my pockets. She looks up at me with a question on her face. As O'Donnell looks back down over his notes, I give her a quick wink to communicate that I'm trying to get us out of here. She must understand my intentions because she starts to gather our files and put them back in my bag.

"I believe so Josh. It was great seeing you again. Donna, a pleasure to say the least. I'll see you both on Sunday. I think together, we three can knock some heads around and get everything back to where it should be," O'Donnell says, standing and offering his hand across the table. Donna and I take turns shaking the old man's hand before saying our final goodbyes and heading out in to the hallway. My hand falls to the small of Donna's back, a place it's found a home for as long as I've known her, and we head back out to the sunny day and awaiting car.

We are both seated in the SUV, sunglasses in place to shield our eyes, when the driver asks, "Where to?"

"Back to the hotel please. Thanks," I reply.

As we pull out in to traffic, I look to Donna who hasn't said a word since we left O'Donnell. I'm not sure if now that we've reached the "free time" part of our trip, she's gotten nervous, or if she just doesn't have much to say, but I'm ready to get the ball rolling and reassure her either way.

I reach out and entwine my fingers with hers. She looks down at our joined hands, seemingly startled, and then brings her eyes to mine.

"Donna, I meant what I said this morning. For the next 48 hours, we leave everything else behind and we focus on us okay? I want you to have some fun. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And yes, I want to figure things out between us. I want to be able to hold your hand and kiss you and tell you I think you're beautiful. And I want you to feel free to do or say whatever you're feeling. As long as that's alright with you that is."

I see tears well up in her eyes, but they don't quite fall. I hate seeing her cry, but I think these are happy tears. She looks at me and nods vigorously. "Deal," she says, pausing to clear her throat. "So what's first?"

Relief floods my system. I mean, I didn't really think she'd dislike my plan, but having her confirm she is on board helped ease the few doubts I've been harboring.

"It's about lunchtime. How about we go change for the beach, grab something to eat, and spend the afternoon by the water?"

"Only if you promise to help me with the sunscreen? Wouldn't want to burn."

"Gladly," I reply enthusiastically.

~Donna's POV~ –

Josh is really turning up the woo these past few days. And I'm shocked about how open and honest he's being. It's like the wall he had built up around him preventing me or anyone else from getting too close has crumbled and he's happy to help me jump over the rubble.

When we get back to our hotel, Josh sends me to the room ahead of him saying he has something to take care of at the front desk. I don't question him. I trust him. Plus, it'll give me a few minutes to decompress before we start this 48 hour 'us' time.

I get to the suite and head straight for my bedroom to change. I choose the red bikini, remembering Josh seemed to have quite a reaction to a red dress I once wore on a date with some "gomer" whose name escapes me. I cover the swimsuit with a pair of white shorts and pink tank top, finishing off the outfit with a pair of simple, white leather thong sandals. I grab the beach towels and sunscreen I bought yesterday and stuff them in the new beach bag along with a book I've had on my shelf for ages but haven't had the time to read.

I really can't believe this all is happening. From Josh's words and actions, he actually feels the same way about me as I have about him for longer than I care to admit. Before we left D.C., I had almost given up on hope that one day, he would somehow give me a definite sign that this wasn't one sided. Sure, we're always flirting, but flirting and actually being in love with someone are two very different things. And let's be honest here, neither of us have a great track record for relationships. The only person I've dated with any regularity since I left Wisconsin was Jack and that ended in flames. I allowed my naivety to overshadow my good sense and almost lost my job and the respect of my coworkers for it. I was never 100% invested in that relationship to start with. At the time, I was just beginning to realize I was feeling something much more than friendship for my boss so when Jack came along, I think I unintentionally used him to try and flush Josh from my system. Not my best hour.

And Josh dated Mandy briefly during the first campaign, which didn't end well. Then there was Amy. What a frigging mess that relationship was. She used Josh and treated him like shit, and he took it for some reason. I was so glad when they finally were over once and for all. Looking back and knowing what little I can conclude from Josh's recent actions, perhaps Josh was using Amy a little too. In much the same manner as I was using Jack. Not that any of that matters now.

Do our mutually horrible track records scare me a bit? Hell yes! But I refuse to live in fear and regret. If Josh is willing to give this a go, I am too. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for Josh. I can be myself around him, quirks and all, and he seems to enjoy it. We laugh and find humor together. We enjoy spirited debate and, of course, banter. He challenges me, often infuriates me, but most importantly, he makes me feel like I matter. Like I'm important.

When he was shot at Rosslyn, I was scared out of my mind. If he didn't pull through, my life would have been over. I don't think I ever would have completely recovered. Part of the reason I was so adamant about being his caretaker as he heeled was I had to see for myself that he was really still here. That he was still breathing. And now, we're about to embark on another chapter. We've had a colored past together and it's time to face the future. Our future. I'm hoping we can use these next 48 hours to gain some agreement on what that future might entail.

I end my musings and head out in to the living area of the suite, deciding to wait for Josh on the balcony. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining bright, there's not a cloud in the sky, and the air is pleasantly dry and warm. I estimate that it must be in the low 80s. I'm definitely going to need to put on some sunscreen when we get down to the beach though. I take a seat on one of the chaise lounges and pull my sunglasses down over my eyes, taking the opportunity to clear my head of all thoughts and just listen to the muted sounds of the ocean. I must nod off for a few minutes because I'm startled awake by someone shaking my shoulder gently.

"Haha, easy there. I didn't realize you were asleep. I can't see your eyes behind your sunglasses," Josh says gently. He's sitting on my lounge chair with his body twisted so his right arm is supporting his weight on my left side and his right hand is resting against my left shoulder. The angle results in his upper body hovering just above mine, blocking out the sun. I pull my sunglasses up and rest them on the top of my head.

"Sorry, the ocean must have lulled me to sleep for a second."

"No problem. I want you to be able to relax. I'll be ready to go in 10 minutes if you could point me toward the swim trunks you bought me."

"Well, I used your card, so technically, you bought them yourself. I just picked them up for you," I correct.

"Of course you did," he chuckles.

"They're in the bathroom by the sink. I got us beach towels too. I have a bag packed so I'm ready when you are." I return his smile and the little air that hangs between us becomes charged again. He leans down slowly, almost cautiously, and meets my lips. The kiss starts out innocent enough, but soon our mouths open and passion takes over. Before I know it, Josh is straddling me on the chair, resting his weight on his knees and forearms, ultimately pinning me to the chair. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and I run my fingers through the soft curls there. His hair is so soft and he smells soooo good. The kiss slows and I move one hand to cup the side of his face as our lips detach almost apologetically. He rests his forehead against mine, leaning in again to put a quick kiss to the tip of my nose.

"Are you sure you really want to go to the beach?"

I sigh contentedly. "As much as I'd love to sit here and make out on the balcony all day, I want to see you in that swimsuit. Maybe we can pick this up again later?"

"We could wear our suits out here," he suggests.

I laugh and move to sit up, which forces Josh to move up on his knees. "Come on Romeo. Let's go play in the sand and I promise to make it worth your while," I wink at him.

"Fiiinnnneee. I'm going to go change then." He pouts teasingly while he disentangles himself from me and heads inside. I straighten out my clothes and subconsciously hold my fingertips to my lips, still feeling the tingle from our kiss. This should be an interesting weekend.

~Josh's POV~ –

After that little make out session, I find myself chanting Toby in a dress… Toby in a dress as I head to the bathroom to change. I need to calm myself down again. I know women have a lot of lady problems to deal with, but at least when they get turned on, they can hide it pretty well. We men, on the other hand, have visible, physical proof that can be embarrassing when said reaction happens at the wrong time or place. I don't mind Donna knowing how much she affects me, but I'd rather not advertise it to the good people of Santa Monica. And I don't have time for a cold shower, so the "Toby in a dress" chant it is.

I locate the swim trunks Donna picked out for me and turn back toward my bedroom to change. Donna is at the fridge gathering water bottles to add to her bag for the beach. I smile at her as I jog past her, "These trunks are great. Much more stylish than I would have been able to pick out. Thanks babe!" She looks at me like I have three heads, but smiles anyway.

I reach my bedroom and realize I just called her "babe". I take a second to think on that… while definitely not something I would have thought to call her before, it fits okay. And she didn't yell at me, so she can't hate it. Maybe I'll try it out again later.

I quickly shed my business clothes and toss them on a chair in the corner of the room. Donna will probably yell at me later for wrinkling my suit, but I don't give a shit right now. The quicker we get to the beach, the quicker I get to see Donna in a swimsuit. And I'm pretty sure it's a two-piece since I got a bit of a peak at her bare midriff when we were out on the balcony a few minutes ago.

I tear the tags off the trunks and put them on, tying the drawstring. I also put on a dark blue t-shirt and realize I don't have any sandals. Luckily, I brought my running sneakers. I'll just wear those without socks.

I open my bedroom door to find Donna waiting by the door to the suite, apparently eager to head out. Grabbing my sunglasses off the stand near the door, I say "Okay, let's do this."

"Let's," she says. "And I could eat. We haven't had anything since the bagel this morning."

"Don't worry Donnatella, I will be feeding you."

"Damn right you will. Oh, and you're paying. I didn't bring my wallet."

"When have you ever paid? Good thing I grabbed mine I guess."

"You don't pay me enough to buy you lunch. Give me a raise and I'll think about it."

"I don't pay you at all. The good citizens of these United States do. And I can't do much about the raise thing. Despite my title, I have little authority over that stuff. You'll have to talk to Leo about it. He does your evaluations now so he's your man."

"I had my eyes on another man, but remind me again… When did Leo start doing my evaluations?" she asks me. Shit. I guess I never told her about that.

"Umm, I guess it was around the time Rosslyn happened. I wasn't back yet when the yearly evals were due and didn't want you to suffer because I wasn't at work, so I asked Leo if he would take over doing yours. When I got back, he told me he might as well keep doing them," I say, chancing a glance over at her as we ride the elevator down to the lobby.

"Really? Well that helps with one problem," she says under her breath.

"What's that?" I heard her, but I want to know what problem she's referring to.

"If Leo is doing my evaluations and has been for a while now, we don't have to worry about any accusations of impropriety in the work place in regards to my position and salary. I mean, you know, if that ever were to be an issue." She sounds like she is unsure in that last statement. I had never thought about it that way, but if Donna and I are going to begin a romantic relationship, she has a great point about the benefits of Leo doing her evaluations and the fact that he has been since way before we started anything personal.

"No, you're right," I say as I reach down and take her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss the back of her knuckles before letting our joined hands hang between us. "And it wouldn't surprise me if Leo was thinking the same way you are. He can be more perceptive then people realize sometimes. Either way, that'll help."

She flashes me a smile and nods her agreement as the elevator dings to signal we've arrived on the ground floor. I don't let go of Donna's hand as we walk through the lobby. Looking over toward the front desk, I nod and wink at the hotel manager, Chad, indicating that it's go time. I have a little surprise for Donna when we return from our day on the beach and Chad has graciously agreed to get things set up while we're gone. For a fee of course.

We head out in to the blinding, early afternoon sunlight and begin our short walk to the beach. We decide to just grab something we can take with us for lunch rather than go sit down somewhere. Donna insists we'll miss the best sunrays if we waste an hour at a real restaurant. I'd prefer to go sit down somewhere, but right now, I'd rather make Donna happy than argue the point. We end up upon an area where street vendors hail carts with various culinary options. The smell of street meat is calling my name, but Donna insists an Italian sausage with peppers and onions is not good for my health. I am about to stand my ground on the sausage when she adds that she won't be kissing anyone with onion breath either. So I settle for a chicken Caesar wrap. Donna chooses a veggie wrap and we get a fruit cup to split. These things are massive and filled with a variety of fresh fruit that the vendor cuts up right in front of us. I'm normally not a big fruit guy, but this actually looks and smells pretty great. Donna grabs us an iced tea to share, puts the food in her bag, and we continue our journey down toward the water.

We hit the sand and I am reminded how much of a pain in the ass walking through it can be. As soon as I feel the sand start to seep in to my sneakers I feel compelled to remove my shoes.

"Donna, hold up. I can't stand sand in my shoes. Let me take these off."

She stops a few steps ahead of me while I bounce on one leg, then the other, pulling the sneakers off and tying the laces together. I hang them over my shoulder and catch up to her. She's still laughing at my little display.

"We need to get you sandals Josh."

"I don't really like sandals. Plus, when would I wear them again after this weekend? There's not a lot of sand in D.C." I place my hand on the small of her back and continue leading her toward a more sparsely populated area of the beach.

"Who knows… maybe we can take a real vacation somewhere tropical sometime. You could wear them then."

I don't reply verbally, but I smile and rub my hand up and down her back landing on her shoulder and pulling her slightly in to my side as I lean over and give her a quick peck on the cheek. We and vacation in the same sentence implies some sort of future. We still haven't specified what this is yet, but I'm hoping like hell it's something she sees lasting.

"How about right here?" I ask her once we've reached a spot that gives us a bit of distance between the next group of people camped out on the beach. Luckily it's still early in the season and a weekday so the Santa Monica beach isn't all that busy.

"Yeah, this'll work." She pulls two towels out of her bag, sets the bag down, and handing me one towel, proceeds to unfold and drape hers perpendicular to the shore. I do the same with mine, placing it on the sand an inch from hers. She kicks off her sandals and stands in the middle of her towel. I'm sitting on my towel, trying to clean the sand from my feet to keep it from contaminating the soft fabric when I look up just in time to see Donna pulling her tank top up over her head and off. She doesn't seem to register my dumbfounded stare and continues with her shorts, unbuckling and unzipping them before pushing them over her hips and allowing them to fall to the ground. My eyes follow their descent and she kicks them off. I'm fairly sure my breathing just quickened as my eyes start making my way up her body, from her perfect feet, to her well toned calves, adorable knee caps, and inviting thighs. It's at this point I realize she's wearing a red bikini. Red! I'm a dead man. Have mercy! My gaze continues up her body across her small stomach (inny… ugh), ribs, and then I land on her breasts. Donna doesn't normally wear anything low cut, which is probably why I'm actually able to get work done around the office. But after staring for longer than is perhaps polite, I'm going to have a really hard time not recalling this image every time I see her. It's burned in to my brain. My work may indeed suffer.

Donna clears her throat and I finally meet her eyes. She laughs and I realize my mouth is still hanging open.

"You okay there, big boy?"

I just smile and nod my head up and down. "Oh yeah, I'm definitely good."

"Okay. You wanna help me with the sunscreen then?" She kneels down on her towel and turns away from me to fish through her bag for it, giving me a view of her shapely ass. If these new swim trunks were not already getting a bit constrictive, they are definitely there now. Remind me not to walk around in public anytime soon.

She turns back to me, handing me an aerosol can of sun block before stretching out in a prone position on her towel. "Yes ma'am!" I state enthusiastically. I love my life.

~Donna's POV~ –

"Start with my back please," I tell Josh as I wiggle a bit to allow the sand beneath my towel to mold to my body. I fold my arms under my head and use them as a pillow as I feel the cool spray of the sun block coat the skin of my upper back, then nothing. Hmm. He may need a bit of encouragement.

"And make sure to rub it in so I won't have to reapply later."

"Okay… sure," he replies, his voice getting a little high there. I know what I'm doing to him. Yes, we need to talk at some point. Preferably pretty soon. But right now, I'm going to enjoy teasing Josh Lyman.

I again feel the sun block sprayed along my upper back and shoulders, but this time, it's followed by Josh's strong hands chasing the cool mist. He kneads the skin of my left side and I groan in appreciation. Yes, I might have been fishing for a massage out of this. Like I said, I know what I'm doing. His hands move slowly and meticulously, not missing one inch until I feel him reach the center of my shoulder blades. He stops his movement but doesn't lift his hands.

"Ugh, Donna, I can't really reach without…" I get what he's saying and feel my own heart race a little.

"Then move so you can silly." I guess he just needed the green light. I feel him quickly shift and straddle my upper thighs with his knees. He goes back to work spraying and kneading the skin and muscles of my back, shoulders, neck, and upper arms, taking his time doing so. I can't help the moans of appreciation that escape my lips when he happens upon a particularly tense spot. I don't think he minds the work, judging by the sizeable bulge I feel poking my backside. The fact that he's not trying to hide the evidence of what I'm doing to him excites me as well. Thankfully we're in a public place, forcing us to keep PG-13 at best. I feel Josh slide his body lower down mine and begin work on the backs of my legs. Again, he takes his time and hits all the right spots except one particular area that is on fire right now. Now I'm getting… frustrated! When he reaches my ankles, finishing applying the sunscreen to the entire back side of my body, he makes his way back up, planting small kisses on the back of a knee, side and ribcage, and finally the top of my shoulder.

"Okay, beautiful, time to turn over. Don't want to cook too long on one side," he says, still straddling my back. I oblige him and flip over in the small space allowed between the confines of his legs. He's looking down at me, smiling that self-satisfied grin he has. I think he knows what he's doing too.

"Hey. How ya doing?" he asks.

"Mmm, wonderful. Finish me off and then I'll do you."

"Oh really, Donna? Good to know you like to reciprocate."

"Joshua," I say with a grin as I slap his leg.

"Hey, you set me up for that one. Not my fault."

"Yeah, okay. Come on, I don't want to burn!" I really don't. That would not be fun.

"Ah-kay." Josh gives my front just as much attention as my back, maybe spending a bit more time teasing below my breasts as he rubs the sunscreen in to my midsection. Only this time I get to watch him. His eyes are slightly hooded but focused the entire time. He occasionally bites his bottom lip as he works out a tough knot. If this is any indication of Josh's level of concentration in the bedroom, I won't be disappointed!

When he's finally finished ensuring I'm thoroughly protected from the sun, he leans over me, supporting his upper body with his left hand. "There, all done," then plants a quick kiss to my lips. Anything more would have been way too dangerous right now.

"Okay. Your turn. Shirt off Lyman. You're going to end up with a farmer's tan!"

"No, that's okay. I don't mind leaving it on. Besides, you're from farm country… You gotta be used to farmer's tans and I don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Joshua, some Vitamin D would do you good. You're just as pale as me and that's saying a lot. Come on. Shirt off." I think I know why he's hesitating. He won't admit it out loud, but I have a feeling it has something to do with a nasty set of scars he has on his chest. I don't know why he thinks I care. I've seen them at their worst. Hell, I changed his bandages enough times.

He gets a faraway look on his face and I wish we weren't wearing sunglasses so I could read his eyes. Josh's eyes are very expressive and often let me in on his moods and feelings when he won't voice them. Finally, he agrees and pulls his shirt over his head quickly before lying on his stomach on his towel. I get the feeling he's still trying to hide his scars, but if revealing them gradually makes him more comfortable, I'm not going to push it.

"Alright Donna. Do your worst." Well at least he's playful sounding again. I really want to keep the mood light right now.

I don't waste any time and straddle his muscular back. I spray his entire upper body all at once making sure to coat him evenly. I still hold the little secret that spray sunscreen doesn't really need to be rubbed in to myself. I begin massaging Josh's shoulders, back, neck, and biceps with as much attention as he gave me. I don't know how he does it when he spends just as much time at the office as I do, if not more, but somehow he's managed to keep in pretty impressive shape. His biceps are particularly impressive. I've never been one for the body-builder types. Josh is lean and well toned. Perfect in my opinion. I find a tense spot just below his left shoulder blade and lean in to work it out, earning a groan from him. Working my way down his body, I spray his legs and massage his calves and ankles. I don't have quite as much ground to reach as he did since his board shorts cover his upper legs completely. These shorts were a good choice though. They fit his frame very nicely and the color blocking draws the eye to that nice little ass he has. I finish up my task and lean back. I tickle his side a bit, causing him to turn over and grab my hands.

"Hey! No fair. I was just getting relaxed," he whines.

"Well I was done with your back and needed you to turn over."

"You could've just asked."

"Huh. Didn't think of that," I shrug my shoulders. "I'll be sure to remember for next time." In reality, I wanted to get him to turn over without over thinking the fact that I would be seeing his scars for the first time since his recovery.

He lies back down and I start with his legs this time, making my way up his body, giving him time to relax again before I reach his chest. Once I do, I am careful to cover all areas beside his scar first without making it obvious I'm avoiding it. It really isn't all that bad. There's a line of white skin where the surgical incision was as well as a puckered scar from where the bullet pierced his chest. Both scars have faded and are no longer the angry red lines they were last time I saw them. I look up in to his face and can't tell if his eyes are open or not behind his Ray Bans. Can't stall anymore. I want to reassure him that this doesn't bother me. In fact, it's nothing more than a reminder that he's still here. And that he's one of the strongest people I know. Maybe the strongest. I rub gently along the line of his scars before tracing my fingers along the edges. He wiggles a bit. They must be sensitive.

"I'm sorry, does that hurt?"

He lifts his head and holds his hand up to block out the sun, which is a bit lower in the sky now. "No, tickles a bit actually."

I smile at him and remove my sunglasses so he can read my eyes. I slowly lean down without breaking eye contact and kiss a trail along the surgical scar before kissing the bullet wound. I then sit back up and gently place my hand over the area. He is still looking in to my eyes when I whisper, "I'm really glad you're here with me," referencing both our current location and reiterating my appreciation of his survival. He seems to understand my double meaning because he places his hand gently over mine, holding it against his scars. "Me too, Donna, me too," he says with emotion behind his voice.

We spend the rest of the afternoon eating our lunch (the fruit was phenomenal!), taking turns burying each other in the sand, and telling stories of family vacations from our childhoods. Josh gets a little misty eyed when he talks about his sister, but I'm overjoyed he feels comfortable sharing these memories he holds so close to his heart.

We spend the last half hour just listening to the waves crash against the beach. I am sitting with my legs crossed and Josh is lying with his head resting in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He may have a high hairline, but what he has is thick and soft. I'm pretty sure he's fallen asleep and I am staring out at the ocean, watching the sun drop lower and lower when I feel his head turn slightly under my fingers. He lays a kiss on my calf and turns to look up toward my face.

"As much fun as this little beach adventure has been, what do you say we head back and get some dinner?"

"What did you have in mind?" I ask.

"I don't know. I heard about this quiet, secluded little place with a nice view. Thought we might check that out. Maybe talk a bit?"

"Sure. Look at you Mr. Planner! Since when do you even remotely have plans put together for anything?" I ask sarcastically.

"I'm just full of surprises," he replies.

We get up and shake out our towels before I fold them and put them back in the bag. Then we put our clothes back on over our swimsuits. We both decide to carry our shoes until we reach pavement again, enjoying the sand between our toes for just a little longer. I'm walking just behind Josh, enjoying the view (if you know what I mean), when I get an evil little idea in my head. I sneak up closer behind Josh and pinch his ass lightly.

"What the?..." I take off running past him. "Oh you're gonna pay for that one woman!" He shouts as he takes off after me. I got a good head start but Josh is very fast. Must be all those jogging meetings. He quickly catches up to me and wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me in the air as I squeal in delight. He spins us around and drops me back to my feet, still holding my back against his chest as he starts tickling my stomach mercilessly.

"Josh… Josh… stop… can't… breath," I beg, laughing so hard I can't catch a breath.

"Who's da man, Donna? Who's da man?"

"Okay, okay, you win. You da man, Joshua!" I relent.

"Teach you to mess with me my lady!" he says in triumph. I spin around in his embrace and grab his face between my hands, pulling him toward me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get over here," I demand before kissing him soundly. The kiss quickly escalates, the tension of our earlier ministrations with the sunscreen coming back full throttle. Before I know it, Josh has lowered his hands to my ass and pulls me further in to the evidence of his arousal. I moan in pleasure against his mouth and wrap my arms fully around his neck, pulling our bodies as close together as humanly possible in our standing position.

"Eww, gross. Get a friggin' room people!" someone yells from somewhere in the distance. We break the kiss and look toward the sidewalk about 20 yards away. A boy who looks to be about 14 is riding his bike past us with a disgusted look on his face.

"We already have one, but thanks for the advice," Josh yells up at him. The kid flips us off and rides away. "Little punk," Josh says under his breath with a glare at the boy's retreating form. I laugh and bury my head in his shoulder, feeling my face turn red with embarrassment.

"Joshua, please do not engage the local youth," I say slightly muffled in to his shoulder. He brings his hands up and wraps them around my shoulders, holding me tight against him as he laughs a bit too.

"He's just jealous he can't have my woman!" Josh says sternly.

"'Your woman, Josh?' First of all, he's maybe 14. Second, don't be getting all primitive man on me there, big boy," I say.

He laughs. "Just another gomer in my eyes. I don't care what his age, it is my duty to save you from any and all gomers who dare cross your path."

"Ugh, you're impossible Mr. Lyman."

"Yet here we are. Alright, enough, let's get back to the room before I'm forced to defend your honor again."

"Let's. I'm getting hungry again." We untangle our arms from each other and he grabs my hand as we walk the rest of the way to the sidewalk, stopping only to put our shoes back on. I shiver slightly from the cooling air hitting my sun kissed skin, which prompts Josh to wrap his arm across my back for the rest of the walk back to the hotel. When we enter the lobby, we see Chad straightening magazines in the seating area.

"Good afternoon sir, madam. Having a good time I hope?" he asks.

"Very much so, thank you Chad," I reply as we continuing walking toward the elevator bank. I swear I see him wink at me as we pass but I bet money he'd prefer Josh. I mentally shrug it off as we ride the elevator up to our floor and enter our suite.

"Hey Donna, how about we shower and get dressed? If we hurry, we should be able to catch the sunset at dinner," he suggests as I set down our beach bag.

"Okay, yeah. Mind if I shower first? I can do my hair why you shower that way."

"Of course! Ladies first. That'll give me a chance to call my Mom and check in before it gets too late on the east coast," he says.

I head toward my bedroom to gather my clothes. "Kay, say hi to her for me! Oh, what is the dress code at this place?" I ask.

"Umm, I think you'll be fine with something on the dressy casual side. Something comfortable. It's not a super fancy place… very laid back," he replies.

Hmm… I think I have something that will work. Good thing I packed options! "Kay, I'll yell when I'm out."

"Ah-kay."

With that, I go to my bedroom and get an outfit ready for tonight. I wonder where we're going? I guess I'll find out soon enough.