Twisted Perfection

distance to the water’s edge.
    The first splash of water to cover my feet was shockingly cold. I managed to stifle my squeal and force myself to stand there. My feet slowly sank into the wet sand and after a minute or so the water wasn’t so cold. I eased in further and had to stop again once the water crashed across my calves.
    “It’s easier if you just go all in and get the initial shock over with,” the familiar deep voice said from behind me. I guess Woods did make it down to the beach on occasion. I glanced over my shoulder to look at him. I was glad for the safety of my sunglasses.
    “Is that so?” I asked.
    He was standing on the shore wearing a pair of white board shorts and no shirt. His already dark skin looked even more sun kissed against the white shorts. That was unfair- to every female on this beach. He needed to wear more clothes.
    “The only way to do it. You keep easing in and you will never make it out there.”
    Why was he talking to me today? He’d acted as if I didn’t exist since the night in the room when he’d told me he was getting engaged. Why now? I looked back out at the water and tried not to think about the way his abs glistened in the sun thanks to tanning oil. He was an engaged man now. Dirty thoughts of him were prohibited.
    “You want me to go with you?” he asked and his voice was closer. Jerking my gaze back around I saw him taking several more steps in my direction. What was he doing?
    “Probably not a good idea. I’ll do this alone,” I managed to choke out.
    “You ever been in the ocean?” he asked as his arm brushed my shoulder. He was too close now.
    “No,” I hissed, wishing he’d back away. Far, far away.
    I heard Woods’ swift intake of breath and I glanced up at him. His eyes were on my body. Even though he had on dark sunglasses I could feel his heated gaze on me. Not good. Really, not good.
    “Damn, baby. Where’s the rest of your swimsuit?”
    The rest of my swimsuit? I turned my attention to my body to make sure it was properly covered. What did he mean? I wasn’t missing anything.
    “This is my swimsuit,” I replied.
    Woods’ head lowered and his mouth was too close to my ear. “That top is barely covering you up,” he whispered.
    Annoyed, I glared at him. “If you don’t like it, then don’t look,” I replied and started moving out deeper into the water. Getting distance from him was more important than adjusting to the cool temperature.
    “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I fucking love it. That’s the problem.”
    I stopped moving. Why would he say that? Did he not care what he was doing to me?
    “You can’t say things like that to me. It’s wrong,” I replied angrily.
    Woods moved toward me again and I waited. This was a confrontation he wanted to have. I was going to let him have it.
    “You’re right. I shouldn’t. But would you rather I lied? I’ve done a lot of things to you Della but I haven’t lied. I don’t want to lie to you. I could tell you that I don’t care about you or that I don’t want you but that would be a lie. You want the truth? Because the truth is all I can think about is being with you again. I try not to look at you because all I can think about is hauling you off to the first closet I can find and kissing every inch of your body.” He was breathing hard and his jaw was working back and forth.
    Why? If he wanted me like that then why was he engaged to someone else? Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “I don’t understand you.”
    He smirked and shook his head. “No one does. But I’d like to explain it to you. Please. Just go have a drink with me. I need you to understand this.”
    His tactic was different but he was the same. He wanted me for an amusement. Someone to entertain him for a moment and then he’d find another. I wasn’t that girl. I shook my head and started to leave the water. I wanted the safety of the beach.
    “You won’t even let me explain?” he called out.
    I looked back at him. “The ring on her finger is the only explanation I will ever need.”

Woods

    There were orders I needed to make that Juan, the head chef, had placed on my desk yesterday. Phone calls I needed to return and a fiancée determined to get me to decide on a date for our wedding. Was I doing any of those things? No. I was torturing myself instead.
    Della needed a bigger bikini top and Thad was about to lose the use of both his hands. Grinding my teeth I tore my