weight as she tilted her face up toward the sun, allowing it to warm her cheeks and shoulders.
She didn’t want to leave.
It felt so good, sitting right where she was, like visiting some Old World painting. There was still so much of the island they hadn’t seen yet; they hadn’t visited any of the beaches, they hadn’t seen the Fort Pulaski National Monument on the other side, they hadn’t even stopped at the Pavilion, or walked through any of the stores by the pier. They could spend days there taking it all in.
She opened her eyes with a sigh, knowing that little dream was completely irrational; as it was, they were already going to be late getting to Tampa now. The wedding was tomorrow, and they shouldn’t even stay much longer.
But God, how she wanted to.
Andie sat up and plucked a blade of grass from the earth, stroking it between her fingers as she stared off into the ocean. She never would have come here if it weren’t for him, she thought as she saw the tiny shape of him off in the distance, squatting against the sunlight with his head titled to the side, his face pressed almost intimately against the camera.
She would ask him for these pictures. She’d pay for them if he preferred. But she wanted a memory of this place, of this moment. Andie was already thinking about having them enlarged, already picturing where they would go in her apartment.
She leaned back on her hands again, watching the people circulating the lighthouse. Chase had been right; when someone was unaware that another person’s eyes were capturing the moment, it was amazing how much they revealed about themselves through their mannerisms. Like the mother who was clearly exhausted and beyond fed up with the little boy who was jumping behind her, doing karate kicks while shouting “Hiyah,” or the man who was spinning his phone in his hand over and over, glancing down at it every few seconds, obviously anxious about some incoming call or text. But the one that stood out the most to Andie was a young couple walking toward the lighthouse entrance. They looked to be somewhere in their late teens, and as they walked along the pathway, the boy had his hands in his pockets and the girl had her arm linked through his. Her other arm was resting loosely around the front of his waist, so that it almost appeared as if she were hugging him as they were walking. Her eyes were dreamy, a secret smile on her lips as she rested her head on his shoulder.
And he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
He stared off into the distance, his expression uninspired and his body language rigid. He kept his hands in his pockets, making no move to reciprocate the affections she was bestowing upon him, and it was clear to Andie that he was just as unimpressed with the girl at his side as he was with his surroundings.
Andie looked at the girl, a girl she’d never know, as Chase pointed out, and she felt a sudden sadness in her chest for the heartbreak she would undoubtedly be subjected to sometime in the near future.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Chase came up the side of the hill and sat down beside her. He held the camera to his eye, taking a few pictures of the lighthouse from their vantage point before he put the lens back on and gently placed it in the grass beside them. He mimicked Andie’s posture then, leaning back on his hands and supporting his weight in his arms, tilting his head back to allow the sun to warm his face.
“Thank you. For stopping here,” he said after a moment, turning to look at Andie with one eye squinted against the sunlight.
She smiled softly. “You’re welcome, but I should really be thanking you.”
He brought his hand to his brow, shielding the sun so he could look at her fully, and Andie felt her stomach flip in a way that forced her to pull her eyes from his.
She turned, looking over the horizon, but she could still feel his eyes on her.
“I wish I could shoot you right now,” he said.
Andie arched her brow as she turned toward him. “Well, that’s nice. I thought we were past all that.”
Chase threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my God,” he said, holding his stomach. “I meant I wanted to photograph you.”