Page 16 of Thanks for Coming Along
"He used to talk about that to me when I was a kid," Ronan continued. "My mom would always chide him for it, but it was his reality. He was a kid living in conflict, probably around the same age as me. It has always stuck with me and made me interested in war journalism. I wanted to be able to give a voice to those kids who were just trying to live out their life but had conflict forced upon them."
"Wow, I can't imagine going through war as a child. And I thought my childhood was bad enough." Ronan opened his mouth to inquire about it. He was intent on knowing every detail she would tell him, and her childhood had so far eluded him. He was eager to learn more about her and get the most accurate telling of her story into the documentary, but he respected her boundaries and chose not to pry further, letting her share at her own pace.
"Come on, I want to feel the water on my toes," Eden said as she stood up. She brushed the sand off her jeans. Turning around, she reached out and took Ronan's hands, pulling him up from the blanket. The feeling of her skin against his sent a shiver through him. He quickly released her hands once he was steady on the sand.
He stood there momentarily, watching as Eden sprinted toward the crashing waves. Her laughter carried in the evening breeze, her figure a fleeting blur in the fading light. Eden shrieked when the ocean waves lapped at her toes, and she ran like a flash in the dimness of the evening.
10
Ronan
“It. is. so. cold!” Eden squealed, darting away from the water with a burst of laughter. Ronan couldn’t help but smile, watching her. She had this way of making even the simplest things feel fun and full of life.
He kicked off his boots, pulled off his socks, and planted his feet in the sand. He took a few steps toward the shoreline and let the gentle waves touch his feet. It was late August in Los Angeles, and the evening had a balmy breeze.
He suddenly felt a pair of hands at his back, pushing him forward. With an unexpected stumble, he found himself wading deeper into the water, his pant legs now soaked. He heard a chuckle behind him; he turned around and spotted a shadow-shrouded figure a few feet away. Oh hell no, she did not just do that.
He lunged forward, scooping her up by the waist. With Eden cradled in his arms, he carried her deeper into the water. The icy waves cascaded around them, sending a tingling sensation through his numb feet.
"Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Devil!" he shouted over the crash of the waves. The nickname just kind of slipped out, but it fit. She had this devilish side—a playfulness he had never encountered before.
It had been ages since he’d had fun like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease, so unguarded. Smiling came easy around her, and that was something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
He heard her squeal, followed by Eden squirming in his arms. Ignoring her protests, he continued to carry her deeper into the water. With each step, the sea slowly soaked his pants to his knees, and Eden's feet kicked in the water ahead of him. He placed her closer to where the waves crashed.
Another wave began to crest, and it drenched a wave over her shoulders. A shocked scream escaped her lips as the wave soaked her. He couldn't help but grin in triumph. Eden grabbed his forearm and yanked him right into the path of the next oncoming wave. A rush of cold water engulfed him, causing his breath to momentarily catch in his throat. His grin widened as they both laughed, their clothes thoroughly saturated. She smiled broadly at him while he marveled at how her wet hair clung to her shoulders, at the sparkle of joy in her eyes.
The golden sun reflected off the water, illuminating her face, her eyes glowing in the muted light. Her hands still clung to his forearm, their touch sending a subtle jolt through him. The temptation to reach out, take her hands, and pull her into his arms was almost overwhelming.
Her gaze traced the contours of his face, and her fingers tightened slightly around his arm. Ronan felt a pull urging him to step closer to her, though he wasn't quite sure what he intended to do. It was as though the entire world had dissolved into nothingness, leaving just the two of them suspended in that moment.
But before he could move, a powerful surge of water rushed towards them, enveloping him in a churning mass of waves. His arms flailed instinctively, trying to find purchase, but the force of the wave seemed determined to tumble him.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the wave released him. He was left on the shore, gasping and sputtering, his clothes clinging heavily to his body. He laid there for a few seconds in shock from both the surprise of the wave and the freezing temperature of the water.
He wiped the water off his eyes and searched for Eden. He found her sprawled on her back a few steps away. She was completely soaked from the ocean, her wet brown hair splayed across the wet sand. Her white shirt stuck to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination; he could see the outline of her lacy blue bra. Her jeans were suctioned to her legs, and she was laughing breathlessly as she laid on the wet sand.
"Nothing like an invigorating swim to get the blood pumping, right?" Eden said as she laughed.
"You know, we're health-conscious. Cold hydrotherapy has tons of health benefits," he responded, turning his eyes away from the devilish lace peeking out from under her drenched, white shirt in the dimming light.
"Absolutely," she concurred, her gaze dropping briefly to her clothing. "Let's change before we turn into icicles." Ronan leaned forward, extending his arm for Eden to grasp. She sat up and accepted his hand, and he gently pulled her to her feet.
Together, they ambled up the sandy shore, avoiding the small rocks as he felt the uncomfortable chafe of wet clothes against his skin. After gathering their belongings, they went up the wooden stairs that led from the beach to her back deck. Eden punched in the key code and swung open the door.
The moment Ronan stepped inside, the glaring brightness of the house momentarily blinded him. He blinked rapidly until his eyes gradually adjusted to the interior. He realized he’d never really taken in the decor of her living room before. She was always there, and, well, his focus had always been on her.
His eyes wandered over the dark wood ceiling contrasted with the bright white walls covered with an eclectic collection of oil paintings. Plush, mismatched sofas were spread in the space. The large windows were flung wide open, allowing the gentle sea breeze to infiltrate the room. The willowy curtains stirred by the caress of the wind, and he could still hear the rhythmic crash of waves outside from the opened windows. He looked down and saw small puddles from his soaked clothes formed on the dark hardwood floor beneath him.
"I'll go grab you a towel!" Eden dashed into her bathroom, her bare feet padding softly on the floor, and returned with plush towels, one for Ronan and another for herself. She patted herself down and then rubbed her hair with the towel. He chose to scan the room to avoid staring at her exposed body in the wet clothes, the soaked fabric hugging her figure in a distractingly erotic way. He was determined to maintain his composure and avoid any attention to her ample breasts and slim waist. His gaze turned towards the impressive record collection that adorned one wall of the room, then to the gray stone fireplace with a sizable wooden mantel instead of her sizable other assets.
"Are you going hypothermic?" Eden asked while he was still staring at the fireplace, trying to think of anything besides the gorgeous woman in front of him.
"Oh lord, I don't know how to fix that. Do you need a hot bath or something?" Bath, now he was thinking of Eden in a bathtub. Ronan shook his head, trying to calm his overactive imagination. Eden stood in front of him, and she started waving her fingers in front of her eyes.
"Follow my fingers with your eyes. I have seen this on Grey's Anatomy. After 19 seasons, I am basically a trained medical professional." When Ronan didn't answer immediately, she put her hands on his shoulder and started shaking him back and forth. "We are losing him. Get the defibrillator!"
“Eden, for the love of all that’s holy, go change into dry clothes," Ronan said, his deep voice echoing through the room. He tried—really tried—to keep his eyes on hers, but they flickered downward for a split second, catching on the way the wet fabric clung to her.
