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He snorted at that, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You were trying to impress me?”

She nodded, her expression woeful. “I’m pretty rotten at it, huh?”

“Well, it wasn’t good,” he agreed. “Is that what all the arm-touching was for? And the laughing?”

“Was it obvious?”

“I wasn’t sure what you were doing. Thought you were on drugs at first.”

“I don’t normally drink, either.”

“No shit.”

She batted at his arm with one hand, but she was smiling now. “Gosh, you must think I’m such a fool.”

“Nah.” He laughed. “Okay, actually, some of it was pretty fucking ridiculous.”

She threw a handful of sand at him. “Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better about this if I confess my sins?”

“You got the wrong guy for that,” he said, ducking away from the flying sand. “But thank god all of that was just to impress me. You were acting weird as shit.”

Marjorie stuck her tongue out at him.

“Careful,” he teased. “I might bite that.” Immediately the tongue went back into her mouth, and he couldn’t stop grinning. God, sitting here and having a real talk with her was so much better than the last two dates. “Since we’re coming clean,” Rob said, tugging at his sweater vest. “This isn’t me. I’m a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, and I cuss like a fucking sailor.” He tore the sweater vest off over his head and flung it into the ocean. “So I guess we both tried to be something we’re not.”

“Looks like we’re both ridiculous,” Marjorie agreed.

“I don’t know jack shit about bingo, either.”

“I do,” she confessed with a small, cheeky little grin. “You’re not very good at it. You were missing half of your numbers.”

“That’s because some nut kept touching my arm,” he retorted.

Marjorie laughed. She laughed hard and clutched her sides, rolling onto the sand. “Oh my goodness. What a nightmare. I can’t believe you wanted to go out again!”

He had, because he remembered this about her. These brief glimpses of pure sweetness and no pretense. The Marjorie who brayed with laughter when she truly found something funny, who had a mischievous smile, and who didn’t bat an eye when he threw f-bombs her way. “I guess we can just keep tallying up my ridiculousness, huh?” When she smiled, he leaned closer to her. “I don’t like to dance, either.”

She gave a small sigh. “Neither do I.”

That surprised him. “Really? I thought you liked it.”

Marjorie wiggled her sandy toes at him. “No. Everyone stares at me when I stand up as it is. Why would I want to go out and perform in front of them?” She gestured at her heels. “The only reason I wore these tonight was because the other shoes had been puked on.” She grimaced and looked over at him. “I really am a terrible date.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“I’m not sure.” She gave him a faint smile, but her tone was nervous.

“I think,” Rob began slowly. “That you have beautiful, long legs. And that they look fucking fantastic in a pair of high heels. And if they make you feel good, you should wear them.”

“I’ll tower over my date—”

“Any man who’s not secure enough to be seen with a gorgeous woman who just happens to be taller than him doesn’t deserve the aforementioned gorgeous woman. He can go fuck himself.”

Her eyes widened and a shocked little giggle—a genuine giggle—escaped her.

“I think you should wear the fucking tallest shoes you can find,” Rob said, warming to his topic. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if they make you eight feet tall, if you feel like a goddamn goddess in them. Because I imagine you’d look like one.”

“I don’t know about that—”

“I do,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been having erotic dreams about your long legs over my shoulders in a pair of fuck-me heels, so just because it’s not every man’s fantasy doesn’t mean that it’s not mine.”

Marjorie’s eyes were round in the moonlight.

“Too crude? Sorry. Actually, no, fuck that. I’m not sorry. This is who I really am.” He kicked at the sweater-vest that kept washing up against his ankles. “I’m not this pansy little fucker. I’m just an average guy with a filthy mouth and filthy daydreams. I’m probably ruining any fantasies of yours.”

“No,” she said softly. “You’re not.”

Huh. “You like a guy that talks dirty to you?”

She shook her head. “I like a guy that’s real. And a little flawed. It makes me feel better about my flaws. You were just so utterly perfect that I felt like I couldn’t possibly be good enough for you.”

He snorted. Perfect? Him? “You have a strange idea of perfect, sweetheart.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. When had they drifted to sitting so close together? But now they were inches apart. “Not your sweetheart,” she reminded him in a pleasant voice.

“Not yet.”

Marjorie sucked in a breath and looked over at him, her eyes heavily lidded. It was obvious she’d liked that comment. Her gaze strayed to his mouth, and god, he wanted to fucking kiss her in that moment.

Virgin, his mind reminded him. Go slow, you cocksucking fool, or she really will run away.

So he just nudged her shoulder again. “I like you because you’re different from most girls. I liked that you didn’t seem fake.”

Marjorie gave an unhappy sigh and stared out at the water again, the moment broken. “And then I spent the next two dates being fake.”

“Drunk and then fake,” he corrected. “But it’s okay. I wasn’t exactly Prince Fucking Charming myself.”

She gave him a wary little smile.

An idea hit, and Rob jumped on it. “Let’s start over.” He got to his feet, took two steps forward, and immediately plopped down in the surf. It was only ankle high, but it took everything he had to lie in the goddamn water without panicking. He pretended to make a snow angel, and called out. “Help, help, I think I’m drowning.”

Marjorie’s peals of laughter were utterly gratifying. “You’re nuts,” she called out to him.

“I may be so, but I’m going to drown in another minute,” he told her. The water was fucking cold and his dick was threatening to crawl back inside his stomach cavity, but it’d be worth it if she took the bait and came to give him mouth-to-mouth. “If only someone could save me.”

Her laughter was downright musical, he decided. As he continued to make an ass of himself, she crawled over to him—fucking crawled, which made his dick hard despite the icy water—and hauled him backward a foot or so into the sand. “There. You are now officially rescued, sir.”

Damn it, he wanted that kiss. But if she was missing his signals, maybe he needed to let it go. “You saved me,” he joked. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Why, take me dancing,” she told him in a merry voice. “I promise to vomit all over your shoes and mine.”

Rob threw back his head and laughed, delighted at her sense of humor. This was Marjorie, not the simpering girl from earlier. This was the woman he’d wanted from the moment he’d laid his eyes on her. Everything she said just convinced him even more that she was right for him.

She nudged his shoulder, still grinning down at him. “You should probably get up out of the water,” she told him. “I think someone’s coming.”

He glanced down the beach, and sure enough, two shapes were heading in this direction. It was a couple, holding hands and walking, and as he squinted, he could just barely make out who it was.

Logan-goddamn-Hawkings and his soon-to-be bride.

Ah, shit. If they saw him here on the beach with Marjorie, everything would be over. Logan’s people would swoop in and hide Marjorie away from him and he’d never see her again. She’d have her ears filled with what a horrible fucking person he was and how she was better off avoiding scum like him.