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Beach - Sunday Afternoon

Jacob was rapidly starting to hate this weather. Maybe the island should move to Antarctica or the North Pole or something. Wait no, the North Pole was melting too. Antarctica then. Where it was nice and chilly. He'd made a stop at Chilly Boulder and was now eating his ice cream on the beach. Even the sand felt almost too hot to his feet and as soon as the ice cream was finished, he was going to be in the water.

Stupid Summer.

[Open like beaches are sandy.]

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It was absolutely unfair, then, that Rosalind was walking on the beach looking entirely cool and comfortable in her suit, wasn't it?

She nodded her head in greeting as she got closer.

Completely unfair and Jacob had no qualms about voicing exactly what he thought of that. "Now you're just showing off," he complained.

"I haven't done anything," she pointed out. "Existing is hardly showing off."

"You're showing off your airco suit again," he pointed out. "Don't pretend like you don't know it. It's written all over your face."

No, it wasn't. He was just warm and she was making him feel warmer just looking at her. Maybe he should toss her in the water.

He would have a fight on his hands should he try that.

"It cannot be," she said, rolling her eyes. "For one, that would imply that I'd known you'd be out here."

"Oh, you knew," he said with a nod. "You're much too clever not to."

Well, she wasn't going to argue with being called clever.

"Should I put it another way?" Rosalind wondered. "And ask why I would bother to go through the effort of showing off for you?"

He laughed. "Because you like torturing me," he decided. "Come on, you can't tell me you're not too warm in that."

Rosalind looked at him, the faintest bit of amusement in her eyes. "My comfort or discomfort hardly matters."

He shrugged. "It's Sunday, it's way too fucking hot and even you aren't working for once," he pointed out. "Does it really matter if you take off the jacket for a moment and enjoy the breeze? I promise I won't tell anyone. I'll even look away if you want."

"I can enjoy the breeze with my jacket on," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "Why should it matter to you?"

"Cause you're making me sweat just by looking at you," he replied and he pushed up to his feet.

"Not my problem," she retorted.

"I know," he chuckled and moved into the water. "Let me guess, you don't like swimming either?"

"I'm hardly dressed for it," she said, not actually answering his question.

"No kidding," he snickered and the water felt good. "Underwear's as good as a swimsuit."

Her gaze was severely quelling.

"No."

He laughed and turned his back towards the ocean, leaning against the incoming waves. "I didn't know you'd say that," he teased.

"Of course not," she said dryly, making sure she was standing out of splashing range.

She had no faith in him.

She was probably right not to. "Seriously, lack of swim gear aside. Do you like swimming?"

"I like the water," she said, looking out over the ocean. "Swimming is alright."

Alright was pretty much praise coming from her and he chuckled. "Maybe you should consider getting a swimsuit then," he suggested. "I can highly recommend the swimming waters here."

She gave him a distainful look.

"You would enjoy the idea of my having fun too much."

He laughed. "Man, you're the only girl I know who thinks it's a bad thing if a guy wants to make sure she enjoys herself."

"I strive to be unique," she said, very dryly.

	
		OSZAR »

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