Free A Week at the Beach by Virginia Jewel Page A

Nick shook his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who didn’t want a big fancy wedding.”
                “Can’t say that now, can you?” I grinned and stole another fry.
                He grinned back at me and shook his head.
                We had fallen back into our playful banter, and something was buzzing around in my head.  “So, I was wondering something.”
                “I wouldn’t want you to hold anything back, so please ask away.” 
                “Would you say that all your exes could be described like the last one?”
                He tilted his head to the side, “What do you mean?”
                “You know, big tits, small brain.  Have all your exes fallen into that category?” I shrugged and took a sip of tea.
                “No, not all of them,” he answered.  “Wait, did you say tits?”
                “Yes.”
                He broke into a wide grin, “That’s awesome!”
                I rolled my eyes at him.  “When they’re real, they’re breasts.  When you pay a doctor to make them bigger than God intended any woman’s breasts to be, they’re tits.” 
                He laughed and shook his head, “I can’t believe you keep saying tits.”
                Watching him laugh at something I’d said, and not something ridiculous I’d done to embarrass myself, was intoxicating.  Before I could stop myself, I’d joined him in laughter.
                We spent the rest of the meal, chatting and laughing at each other.  The waitress checked on us a few times, but left us to enjoy each other’s company.  When we were both stuffed, he picked up the check and led me out of the restaurant.
     
    5.
    “What would you like to do next?” he asked when we’d said our goodbyes and received another round of well wishes from the waitress.
                “I don’t know, but I’m not ready to get back on that bike.”  I made a face at the thought of being on the bike again.  “I like the feeling of having my feet on solid ground.  Plus, that seat is not comfortable.  It made my butt hurt.”
                Nick grinned, gently put a hand on my butt, and leaned close to me.  “Would you like me to massage your butt?”
                I swatted his hand away and squirmed out of his grip.
                “What?” he said with a big grin.  “I’m just trying to be a supportive fake fiancé!”
                I glared at him, “I’m giving you a real no, thank you.”
                He grinned, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.  Turns out I’m a butt man after all.”  He smacked me on the butt and took off running towards the row of shops.  I followed behind him, struggling to keep up.
                When I reached him at the end of the street, he was smiling and waiting for me. 
                “No fair!  You didn’t give me a warning that we were racing.  You got a head start!” I huffed between big gulps of air.  I ran regularly, but I wasn’t used to sprinting quite so quickly.
                “That was the point.  I had to cheat to win.” 
                “What now?” I asked with a steadier breath.
                “Can you paint?” he grinned and pointed at the storefront we’d stopped in front of.
                I turned and studied the window.  “Paint your own pottery?  I think I can do this.”
                He led the way and leaned forward to open the door.  Before he opened the door, he turned back to me and said, “Are you sure this is safe?  You don’t have some kind of freak childhood pottery accident to tell me about, do you?  I wouldn’t want to risk life and limb just to paint a piece of ceramic.”
                I gave him a face that