The roar of the engine is loud enough and mixed with the whipping wind; talking is not a feasible option. I sit back, enjoying the feeling of freedom as the wind dances through my hair and the sun warms my skin. I lean my head back and give in to the urge to raise my hands over my head as we zip onto Interstate 10 heading west.

I glance over to see him watching me, a curious look on his face. He subtly shakes his head, a diminutive smile on his lips before he looks back toward the road. After a beat, he pushes a button and music springs to life in the car, surrounding us with the fast tempo of a song.

The song ends and another begins. I throw my head back, laughing out loud at the song. It’s a catchy little pop tune that I have heard on Shane’s radio enough times. In my periphery I notice Colton give me a quizzical look, so despite my average voice, I belt out the chorus, hoping he hears the words.

“You make me feel so right, even if its so wrong, I wanna scream out loud, boy I just bite my tongue,” I raise my arms again over my head, letting myself go, reveling in feeling that I am telling Colton how I feel without telling him. This is so unlike me—singing out loud, letting loose—but something about being with him, sitting next to him in this flashy sports car, has lowered my inhibitions. As we exit the freeway, I finish the chorus with gusto, “It feels so good, but you’re so bad for me!” Colton hears the words and laughs good-naturedly at them.

I continue singing the song, with less gusto since the car’s purring engine is quieter now that we are on Fourth Street. I can see Colton gauging the street’s parking availability and my curiosity is peaked because we’ve not discussed where we’re going. He swerves abruptly and parks the car with adept precision along the curb.

I glance around trying to figure out where we are as he pushes a button in the sleek dashboard and the sexy purr of the engine ceases. “You okay to sit tight for a sec?” He asks, flashing me an earnest grin that affects me more than I care to admit.

“Sure,” I answer, and I know at this moment I am saying yes to so much more than just sitting patiently in the car. I push the fear out of my mind and vow to embrace the idea of feeling again. Of wanting to feel again. I flick my eyes from his, down to his mouth, and back up, salacious thoughts running rampant through my mind. His smile widens further as he notices my prolonged attention.

“I’ll be right back!” he announces before unfolding himself gracefully out of the car and standing deliberately to give me an incredible view of his ass in snug jeans. I bite my lip to suppress the various urges whipping through my body. He glances over his shoulder at me and laughs, knowing full well the impact of his actions. “Hey, Ryles?”

“Yeah, Ace?”

“I told you you wouldn’t be able to resist me.” He flashes me a disarming smile before hopping up on the curb and walking briskly down the block, long legs eating up the sidewalk, without a look back.

I can’t help but grin as I watch him walk away. The man is captivating in every way and the epitome of sexy. From that boyish grin that disarms me in seconds to his sexy swagger that says he knows exactly where he’s going and what his intentions are. He exudes virility, evokes desire, and commands attention all with a single look from his stunning eyes. He’s edgy and reckless and you want to go along for the ride hoping to get a glimpse of his tender side that breaks through every now and again. The bad boy with a touch of vulnerability who leaves you breathless and steals your heart.

I shake myself from my thoughts to admire the view of Colton’s broad shoulders and sexy swagger as he strides down the sidewalk. He tugs down on his baseball cap before he walks past two women. They both turn their heads as he passes by and admire him before turning back to each other and giggling, one mouthing the word, “Wow!” to the other.

I know how they feel multiplied by a hundred. I watch as Colton stops and disappears into a doorway. From my vantage point in the car, I can’t see the sign above the entrance on the worn down façade.

I pass the time admiring the sleek interior of the vehicle and watching the various people walking by at the car and staring at it. The ring of Colton’s cell phone sitting in the console startles me. I glance down to see the name ‘Tawny’ flashing across the screen. A pang of irritation flickers in me at a girl’s name on his phone before I rein in my unexpected jealousy. Of course he has women calling him, I tell myself.

Probably all the time.

“We’re all set,” Colton says startling me as he places a paper grocery bag behind me. He walks around the car and slides into his seat. As he buckles his seatbelt, he notices his phone’s missed-call message on the screen and thumbs to it. An enigmatic look crosses his face as he sees the caller’s name, and I chastise myself for hoping he would scowl when he saw it.

A girl can hope anyway.

Within moments we are back on the road and headed up Pacific Coast Highway. I’m admiring the sight of the surf crashing on the beach with the sun in the background slowly ebbing toward the horizon before I realize that we’re pulling into the view ourselves.

Colton pulls up to a spot in the nearly empty parking lot. I’m surprised there are so few people here considering the weather is unusually warm for this time of year. “We’re here,” he says, pushing a button that has the top of the car lifting and closing in over us before he turns off the car. I look at him, surprise showing on my face; I was hoping for a non-romantic “date” and yet he has given me my favorite place on earth. A near-empty beach close to sunset. He simply is not playing fair, but then again, he doesn’t know me well enough to know my preferences so I just chalk it up to luck on his part.

He grabs the bag behind my seat and then exits the car. He then collects a blanket from the trunk before coming around to my side. He opens the door with a playful flair as he reaches for my hand to help me out of the car.

“Come,” he demands as he tugs on my hand, a thousand sensations seducing me as he pulls me toward the sand and surf. I am slightly giddy with the fact that he continues to hold my hand in his even though I’ve followed him. The rough calluses on his palms against my smooth skin are a welcome feeling. Almost like being pinched to make sure I’m not dreaming.

We walk out onto the beach past a pile of towels and clothes that I assume belong to the two surfers out a ways in the water. We walk in silence, both taking in our surroundings as I try to figure out what to say. Why am I all of the sudden nervous over Colton’s intensity? Over his proximity?

When we get about ten feet from the wet sand, Colton finally speaks. “How about right here?”

“Sure, although I would’ve brought my swim suit if I’d known we were coming to the beach,” I respond flippantly, my nerves giving way to stupid humor as it usually does. If I could roll my eyes at myself right now, I would.

Sensing my lack of bravado and heightened nerves now that we really are alone, just him and I, Colton quips, “Who said anything about suits? I’m all for skinny dipping.”

I freeze at the comment, eyes wide, and swallow loudly. Odd that the idea of stripping down naked with this ruggedly handsome man unnerves me despite the fact he’s had his hands on me.

His perfection next to my ordinary.

Colton reaches out with his free hand and puts a finger under my chin, raising my head so that I can meet his gentle eyes. “Relax, Rylee. I’m not going to eat you alive. You said you wanted casual, so I’m giving you casual. I thought we could take advantage of the unusually warm weather,” he says releasing my chin and handing me the brown bag so that he can lay a large Pendleton blanket on the sand. “Besides, when I get you naked, it’s going to be somewhere a lot more private so that I can enjoy every slow and maddening second of it. So I can take my time and show you exactly what that sexy body of yours was made for.” He glances up, eyes flashing desire and mouth turning up in a wicked grin.

I sigh and shake my head, unsure of myself, of my reaction to him, and how I should proceed. The man can seduce me with words alone. That’s definitely not a good sign, seeing as how if he keeps it up I’ll be handing over my panties to him in no time at all.

I fidget under the intensity of his stare and the direction my thoughts have taken. “Take a seat, Rylee. I promise, I don’t bite,” he smirks.

“We’ll see about that,” I snort in jest, but I oblige him and sit down on the blanket, distracting myself from my nerves by unzipping my ankle boots. I pull off my socks, free my feet, and wiggle my toes, which are painted fire-engine red, in the sand. I pull my knees up, and wrap my arms around them, hugging them to my chest. “It’s beautiful out here. I’m so glad the cloud cover stayed away today.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmurs as he reaches into the brown bag from Fourth Street. “Are you hungry?” he asks producing two packages wrapped in white deli paper, followed by a loaf of French bread, a bottle of wine, and two paper cups. “Voila,” he announces. “A very sophisticated dinner of salami, provolone cheese, French bread, and some wine.” The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as if he is testing me. As if he is checking to see if I really am okay with a casual, no-frills dinner such as this in a land of Hollywood glitz, glamour, and pretension.

I eye him warily, not liking games or being tested, but I guess someone in his shoes is probably wary of others. Then again, he’s the one begging me for a date, although I’m still not sure why. “Well, it’s not the Ritz,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes, “but it’ll have to do,” I huff out.