Lunangelique (The Lunangelique Series) by Kristin R Campbell Page B

things about it and have wanted to see it for a long time. But it was not what I expected it to be.”
    “Sorry it didn’t live up to your expectations. If I would have known, I would have rejected the offer and the night would have turned out the way I saw it unfold,” he says.
    “Don’t apologize. At least we still had a new experience together,” I take up his hand. “And we can go on your dream date another night.”
    “We can still do one thing I had planned tonight, if you’re not tired, that is,” he glances at the clock in response to my covered yawn. I look at the clock too and see that it is almost midnight.
    “The night is still young,” I say dramatically.
    “Are you sure?”
    I think about it for a minute before asking, “What do you have in mind?”
    “I thought we could still go to beach. Not the boardwalk,” he clarifies. “The one near our house. Houses,” he clarifies, knowing he just made a blunder. Honestly, I wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t had corrected himself. And I’m too tired to laugh at him.
    He shakes his head at his mistake. “Anyways, I brought some blankets. They’re in the trunk, so we don’t get sand all over our clothes.”
                  I blush thinking about the things I would like to do with him on those blankets. “I like the idea. Going to the beach always makes me happy. I love the sound of the waves, it’s soothing.” I feel sleepier just imagining listening to the sound of the ocean. When it’s cooler out and not so humid, I usually open my bedroom window so I can fall asleep to the sound of the distant waves crashing onto the shore. It’s better than any mechanical sound machine with all their subliminal messages whispering to you.
    Of course it takes us only fifteen minutes to arrive at our neighborhood beach with his crazy speed-driving. We walk down to the shoreline and spread a blanket on the ground. Cole wraps the smaller blanket around my shoulders to keep me warm against the wind. It might be hot and humid during the day but at midnight, with the wind blowing off the ocean, there is a fifteen to twenty degree difference.
    We sit down on the blankets and take in the beauty of the waves cascading in lazily towards the shore, each one rolling into the next and draping its way inward like dressing a sheet onto a bed. There is a waxing gibbous moon overhead and that is reflected onto the water’s surface, just like Cole promised.
    “I don’t think I could ever live far from the ocean,” I confide in Cole. “Living inland would seem smothering. Not being able to breathe in the refreshing salty air.”
    “I totally agree.” Cole takes in a deep, exaggerated breathe of the air. “Very refreshing.”
    I lie back on the blanket to stare awhile at the moon. There are clouds dotting the night sky, skimming the night on their way to far destinations. They only add to the beauty of the sky as they move sluggishly by, presenting stars to us. I search in the sky for the constellations and my eyes start to grow so heavy.
    Cole lies back and turns onto his side to face me. His hand comes up and strokes my hair in a way that makes me shiver involuntarily.
    “Your hair is the same color of the moon beams.” He plays with the tips of my hair that are fanned out next to me, lifting up a lock and using it to tickle my arm. “It glows,” he says with wonder in his voice.
    “It’s only because of the gray scale. I would say your hair looks black, but your hair practically is black,” I tell him and he chuckles.
    His hand comes up to outline my face in a series of soft, spine tingling caresses. I close my eyes and surrender to his touch, feeling drowsier by the second. I feel his body shift closer to me and I turn towards him with my eyes still closed to wait for a kiss that I know is coming.
    His lips touch my expectant ones and we start in on a succession of small, teasing kisses before they grow more serious. His tongue is desperate to