Malibu Rising: A Novel, Taylor Reid [best fantasy books to read TXT] 📗

the charmer,” she said as she took the cube from his hand. She’d put it right into her mouth and sucked on it. “I understand you brought it as a joke but I’m not going to let it go to waste.”

He kissed her, right then, still tasting it on her lips. “I brought a whole box actually,” he said, gesturing to the front seat, where a box of Domino sugar cubes was resting against the back of the seat next to a bottle of rye.

They didn’t even go out for dinner that night. They drove up the coast eating sugar cubes, drinking whiskey right out of the bottle, and teasing each other over who could control the radio. When the sun set, they parked at El Matador—a pristine and stunning beach hidden under the bluffs, home to rock formations so massive and breathtaking it looked as if the ocean had made its own Stonehenge.

Mick’s windshield framed the waves coming in down the shore, a beautiful movie they weren’t watching. The two of them were drunk and sugar-rushed in the backseat.

“I love you,” Mick said in June’s ear.

June could smell the whiskey on his breath, could smell it coming out of her pores. They’d had so much, hadn’t they? Too much, she thought. But it had gone down so easy. It scared her sometimes, just how good it tasted.

His body was pressing against hers and it was, she thought, the most miraculous feeling. If only he could press into her farther, hold her tighter, if only they could fuse together.

Mick put his hand up her skirt slowly, testing the waters. He got up to the top of her stockings before she pushed him away.

“I’m starting to feel like I can’t live without you,” he said.

June looked at him. She knew that was the sort of thing men said to women just to get what they wanted. But what if she wanted it, too? They didn’t give you any answers for that part. All they said was to bat his hand away until you were married. Nobody told you what to do if you felt like you’d die without his hand pushing farther up your legs.

“If you can’t live without me,” she said, regaining some control of herself, “then you know what to do.”

Mick released his head onto her neck, in defeat. And then he pulled away ever so slightly and smiled. “Why are you saying that? Are you saying that because you think I won’t ask you to marry me right now?”

June’s heart began to beat light and fast as if trying to fly. “I have no idea what you’ll do, Mick. You’re going to have to show me.”

Mick buried his head into her shoulder once more and kissed her collarbone. She hummed with the delight of his lips on her.

“I want to be your first,” she said. She knew exactly what she was doing, making a statement like that. It would allow him to give her the answer she wanted and make her think it was the truth.

“You will be,” he told her. He would tell her whatever she wanted to hear. That was the way that he loved her.

June kissed him. “I love you,” she said. “With all of my heart.”

“I love you, too,” he said, as he tried one more time. She shook her head and he nodded and let up.

That night, when he dropped her off, he kissed her and said, “Soon.”

• • •

Mick and June walked along the Santa Monica Pier, the roller coaster and carousel just ahead. The worn boards creaked underneath their feet.

June was wearing a white dress with black polka dots. Mick was in trousers and a short-sleeved button-down. They looked good together and they knew it. They could feel it in the way people responded to the sight of them, the way cashiers perked up to serve them, the way passersby took an extra second to glance.

As they walked toward the water, with the Ferris wheel dominating the sky to their left, they were peeling pink sticky wisps of sugar off the mound of cotton candy Mick was holding. It had tinted June’s lips a rose-colored hue. Mick’s tongue was dyed as red as a raspberry.

He threw the empty paper cone of the cotton candy in the trash and turned to June. “Junie,” he said. “I wanted to run an idea by you.”

“OK …” June said.

“Here goes,” Mick said, as he got down on one knee. “June Costas, will you marry me?”

June gasped so hard she gave herself the hiccups.

“Honey, are you OK?” he asked, getting up off his knee. June shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to gain control of her breathing again. “I … just … I wasn’t expecting this today. Do you mean it? Really?”

Mick pulled out a tiny ring, a thin gold band, a diamond smaller than an apple seed. “It’s not much,” he said.

“It’s everything,” she told him.

“But one day, I’ll get you a huge ring. So big it will blind people.”

“Oh, wow,” she said.

“I’m on my way, I’m going places.”

“I know you are.”

“I can’t do it without you.”

“Oh, Mick …”

“So is that a yes?” he said. He was surprised to find himself finally nervous. “You’re saying yes, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m saying yes,” she said. “I think I was put here on this earth to say yes to you.”

Mick lifted her into his arms and spun her around. And June suddenly felt as if human flight was no big thing at all.

“I know that I can make you happy,” he told her as he put her down and put the ring on her finger. “I promise you won’t ever have to step another foot in that restaurant once you’re mine. And I’ll get you the house of your dreams one day. Two sinks in the bathroom, bedrooms for as many kids as you want, the beach at your front door.”

All she had ever wanted.

“Of course I will be your wife,” June whispered, tears in