slowly. He’d never seen Honey Belle look so
out-and-out sexy. The word exquisite came to mind.
She
smiled as she made her way across the crowded restaurant. He could see the avid
expression on the other men’s faces—which she ignored. No doubt about it, Honey
Belle was a knockout. She had no conceit, no concept of her own perfection.
Perhaps that’s what drew him to her. She was beyond the perfect alignment of
facial features, the graceful lines and generous curves of her body. She was
Honey Belle.
Their
eyes met and held in the reflection of the glass, and she blushed—her composure
obviously shaken by the warmth of his gaze.
She
slid into the chair across the table from him.
Tripp
leaned close and murmured, “You know, it’s occurred to me I want to feed you
and then take you to bed.”
Her
answer nearly knocked him off the chair. “I want you to.”
He
laughed. “You are most unique, Honey Belle Garrett.”
There
was live entertainment—a bluesy singer at a piano. A warm breeze and the
cadence of the waves kissing the shoreline seemed to match the rhythm of the
music. It was an intimate setting for lovers.
They
ordered dinner, a cup of New England clam chowder, almond fried grouper,
parsley potatoes, and sautéed mushrooms. A dish of chocolate ice cream
completed the delicious meal, washed down by a fine vintage wine.
The
orchestra was playing a slow piece. “Do you think we can dance to this?” Tripp
asked, impatient to hold Honey Belle in his arms.
“We
can try.” She wore heels, which brought her almost up to his height. When they
danced, she couldn’t avoid his eyes. Eyes that seemed to drink her up,
swallowing her whole. Their bodies fit, moving slowly to the music, a prelude
to another dance. When his hand slipped to the small of her back and drew her
closer, a small gasp escaped her. She couldn’t contain a shudder of pleasure.
Tripp
nuzzled her ear and felt the heat in her face as she flushed deliciously. “This
feels nice,” he said, his voice husky, not making any effort to hide the effect
she had on him. It was too late for pretence now, far too late. “How about a
walk on the beach—I brought the blanket.”
“Mmm.”
Honey Belle pulled him close. “Then I think we should leave, now.”
When
he raised his head to look into her eyes, he saw naked hunger there and knew
his eyes must betray the same dazed expression.
****
Honey
Belle and Tripp walked hand in hand down the long stretch of beach, far away
from the restaurant, until reaching their special place. Lightning cut across
the sky, promising an August storm.
An
ominous feeling loomed over Honey Belle when Tripp said, “It’s too bad you
can’t get off work tomorrow. I’d like for you to see me off at the airport.”
“I
wish you didn’t have to go, Tripp.”
“Don’t
worry,” he chided. “I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”
“How
long will you be gone?”
“A
week. Maybe longer, if I can’t find an apartment right away.”
A
painful lump formed in her throat. “A week seems like forever, Tripp.”
He
hugged her close. “I told my parents about us—our engagement. When I get home,
we’ll shop for the perfect ring to place on your long slender finger.”
A
little gasp slipped out. She whispered, “What did your parents say?”
“The
usual concerns. Mostly afraid I won’t finish law school.”
“What
did you say?”
“I
assured them there is nothing to worry about.”
“Tripp,
what if your parents don’t like me? I mean, it isn’t as if we’re both from the
same social circles.” Honey Belle knew truer words had never been spoken. His
parents would never accept a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. How would
Tripp react when he found out?
Humor
laced his face as he lifted her hands to his lips. “I love you, and that’s all
that matters.”
She
wanted to latch onto him and never let go. No matter how hard she tried, she
couldn’t shake her mother’s words.
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