The water was hot. She turned her face up into the spray and closed her eyes, her hands pushing her wet hair back from her face. I stood behind her and watched the water run down her spine and thought about how I was going to carry this image with me for the rest of my life.
I reached past her for the shampoo on the shelf. She opened her eyes and glanced back at me.
“Turn around,” I said.
She turned. I worked the shampoo into her hair slowly, my fingers moving through the curls, my fingertips massaging her scalp. She let out a loud sigh and dropped her head back.
“That feels so good,” she said. “You have a future as a shampoo boy.”
I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind if the ranch business fails.”
I kept working, careful with the knots and taking my time. There was something about it that felt more intimate than almost anything else we’d done. This was just care. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to do it every morning for the rest of my life.
She rinsed and turned around to face me. She reached up and ran her hands through my hair, returning the favor without saying anything about it. Her nails scraped gently against my scalp. I had to work to keep my eyes open.
“You’re going to put me to sleep,” I said.
“You need to relax,” she said. “I can see how stressed you are.”
She wasn’t wrong. The last few days had been a lot. The legal situation. The calls. The investors. The weight of knowing a man was actively building a campaign designed to tear down everything I’d spent years building. She rinsed my hair with the same gentleness I’d used on hers.
I reached for her then, not with any urgency, just pulling her in under the spray with me. Her arms came around my waist and her cheek pressed against my chest. The water ran over both of us. I held her there and breathed her in.
“You okay?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” I said. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”
She tilted her head up and kissed my jaw. I turned my head and kissed her mouth. We stayed under the hot water until the water started to run lukewarm.
I wrapped her in a towel and then grabbed another one for myself. I dressed in shorts and a button-up shirt while she put on her dress from last night.
“How long do you need?” I asked.
“Fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll be over,” I said.
She gave me a quick kiss. “See you soon, sexy.”
I drove us into town and parked in the main parking area. The same lot all the tourists used. It felt strange to play tourist, but I liked the idea of seeing the place from a new perspective. I took her hand as we walked the main stretch without any real destination.
Summer had her hair down and her sunglasses on. She was wearing cutoff jean shorts and a pink tank top that made her tan look even darker. She looked like summer itself.
We stopped for iced coffees at a place on the corner she liked. The girl behind the counter recognized Summer and started making her order before she’d said a word.
“The usual?” the girl asked.
“Please.” Summer looked at me. “He’ll have whatever’s strongest.”
“Cold brew,” I said. “Straight.”
The girl looked me over once. I was sure she recognized me. I was kind of famous these days. Then she looked at Summer and back at me and something in her expression shifted into something knowing and slightly delighted.
“Sure thing,” she said.
We took our drinks outside and kept walking. The town was alive in the way it got on a good summer afternoon. Families. Dogs. A group of teenagers on bikes who nearly took out a sandwich board outside the sub shop. The smell of sunscreen and fried food drifting from the direction of the boardwalk.
Summer walked beside me with her iced coffee and pointed things out as we went. She knew everything about this place. Every corner of it. It was in her the way Texas was in me. She was completely at home.