When I drop my head, he says, "Talk to me, babe."
"I just...I don't do this well."
"Do what?"
"This..." I stop talking when he cradles my face in his hands and moves me so that I'm looking at him.
"Whatever this is, I want it. I just need to know if you do." His eyes are serious, and he never takes them off of me as he speaks. It's intimidating and makes me anxious. Hearing him speak so honestly makes my stomach flutter. I'm scared. I'm happy. I'm all over the place when I finally look up at him. And with trepidation, I nod my head yes.
A smile breaks across his face as he pulls me in and kisses me. I wrap my arms around him, underneath his coat as his cold, rain soaked lips cover mine. He draws me in tight, and I melt into him. Pushing my fears aside, I focus solely on him. His hold on me is strong, which contrasts his gentle kisses. He's in no rush as he takes his time, dragging his tongue across my lip and slipping it inside my mouth. When our tongues slide across each other, I tighten my grip on him. His lips are soft, and I can taste a hint of mint on him. He holds my head and guides me with him as we move with one another. I've never been kissed the way Ryan kisses me. He's slow and deliberate, and I can feel that it's more than just a kiss to him, which settles me because it's more than that for me too.
His hands still on my cheeks, he breaks our kiss, and I stare up into his eyes when he says, "Should we get out of here?"
"Let's stay." I'm in no hurry to go back to his house, and I don't want this moment to end just yet.
"Come here." He pulls me onto his lap, and I hook my arms around his neck. He is much larger than I am, so I fit perfectly in his hold.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything," he says as he turns his head to look at me.
"I never asked before because I didn't want to intrude, but...where is your father?"
He lets out a slow breath and shifts his focus out to the beach. "He died about ten years ago." He turns to face me again, and I feel awful for asking.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I say when I drop my head, feeling bad for bringing it up.
Lifting my chin to look up at him, he says, "Candace, you can ask me anything. I don't want you to feel like you can't, okay?"
"Yeah," I quietly sigh and turn my head away from him, still feeling like I shouldn't have asked him that.
After a moment he begins to speak. "My dad was an ass**le." When I look at him, he continues, "He drank way too much and was never around, but when he was, he was a total dick. So, don't feel bad for asking, because I don't feel bad that he's dead."
His voice is hard when he speaks, and I have no idea how to respond to his harsh words. I want to know more, but I don't dare ask. Whatever is underneath this is something that seems painful, so I let it go.
I look up at the cliff that is behind us and notice a roped off ledge. "Is there a trail up there?"
Turning his head to see what I'm looking at, he says, "Yeah, it's a pretty decent path if you want to go up there."
Needing to cut this intensity, I say, "Yeah, let's go."
He eyes my leopard rain boots and asks, "Those have enough traction?"
"We'll see." I giggle and hop off of his lap and grab his hands to pull him off the log.
He smiles at my laugh and leans down to give me a chaste kiss before bending down and grabbing me behind my knees, scooping me up over his shoulder. I squeal as he starts hauling me up the stairs while I hang upside down. I don't even think to tell him to put me down because I love this feeling of playfulness. I honestly can't remember the last time I have felt like this; I don't think I ever have.
We hike along the path and explore the area for a couple hours. I was apprehensive about coming on this trip with him, but I'm so glad I did. My discomfort has dissipated, and it feels like it always has with us—light and easy.
We start walking back to the jeep, thoroughly wet and windblown.
"You up for shopping?" he asks me with a smirk.
"Shopping?"
"Yeah, everyone is leaving tonight, so I need to get the kids hopped up on sugar before they go," he jokes. Opening my door, he helps me up into my seat before walking around to the other side. When he gets in, I ask, "Where are we going?"
"Seaside. There's a cool candy shop called The Buzz."
I laugh at his excitement. "Your cousins are going to hate you, you know?"
"I'm their uncle, it's my job to spoil the shit out of those kids to spite their parents."
He makes me laugh, but his love for his nieces and nephews is apparent. I get the feeling that is how they all are with each other. It feels so abnormal to be around them, but I know it's because I've never had that in my life. It's always just been me and my parents, and there was never any warmth between us.
Ryan reaches over, laces his fingers with mine, and holds my hand. I smile when I look over at him. I sit back, with our hands connected, and enjoy his quiet company as we drive.
Pulling onto the Broadway Strip of Seaside, there are throngs of people walking on the sidewalks, going in and out of the shops that line the street. When we find a parking spot, we walk to the candy shop. He leads me to the back of the store, and when I see what he is eying, I start laughing and say, "You cannot let those kids eat this stuff!"
"Watch me," he says with a devious smile.