Summer with the Soldier by Amy Lamont

Author:Amy Lamont [Lamont, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Productive Ink Media
Published: 2016-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The next morning, shortly after the sun turned the beach a rosy gold as it peeked over the horizon, I stood with my toes digging into the sand and the breeze tugging my silky pink robe in all directions. I gasped and gripped the hem, holding it against me to keep it from flying up and revealing all my bits.

“This was a bad idea. Maybe we should do something else.” I stared out to sea, watching waves curl in the distance and break before they got to shore. I shivered as the water lapped at my feet and the spray hit my bare calves.

“Fine by me,” Logan said grumpily. “I didn’t think this was a good idea in the first place.”

I gave him my angry face—wrinkled nose, puckered lips, eyebrows pulled together.

He shook his head, unimpressed with my display.

“What else can I do?” My whining plucked my own nerves. I could only imagine what Logan must be thinking.

But I couldn’t help it. We’d spent the evening avoiding serious topics like what happened during his deployment or the hypothetical baby that kept me from opening the bottle of wine I was dying for. Instead, we brainstormed ways for me to win the bet.

The brainstorming turned into a weird game of Never Have I Ever. Weird because I’ve never played it before without the aid of alcohol. Logan thought it would help me come up with some wild ideas that I hadn’t ever tried before.

I’d shared a few things, but Logan had fixated on the fact I’d never been skinny-dipping. That led to a list of a few other things I’d never done before including singing in public, having an embarrassing video of myself uploaded on YouTube, being handcuffed, and getting married on a drunken Vegas binge

Skinny-dipping sounded like the simplest place to start. Right up until this moment when I stood all but naked on the beach in the chilly morning air getting ready to plunge into the icy ocean while Logan snapped a photo.

The photos had been my idea. I figured I’d need proof of any and all wild shenanigans.

But that was last night when I was a little giddy from exhaustion and worry and what had happened between Logan and I the night before.

This morning I was something else. Past exhaustion from a sleepless night of tossing and turning, and not tossing and turning in a good way, like I tossed and turned between the sheets of the guest room with Logan.

It was disconcerting. I slept like the dead on a normal night. At the beach house in my fluffy bed with its crisp white sheets and the windows thrown open to let in the sounds and scents of the ocean, I usually slept even better.

But last night the pounding surf didn’t soothe me. The sea-tinged air didn’t follow me into my dreams.

Sleeplessness wasn’t all that surprising given the circumstances. I’m sure many women carrying hypothetical babies tossed and turned as they waited to see if their periods arrived.

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