4. Karol

Usually, I had a crap ton of art supplies, so if I lost a paint pen or two, I didn't mind. But the one I'd used the night before to outline the Believe rock was one of my favorites.

I'd tried to tell myself, even if I went down and looked for it, I wasn't going to find it. It would be close to impossible. But no matter how I tried, I couldn't get myself not to search for it.

I took an early lunch break and ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I'd thankfully thought ahead to make myself on the walk down to where I'd sat the night before.

The rec center was close enough, and it saved me from having to fight for parking. We were a small town and usually overlooked compared to other Sothern California beaches, but we still got our fair share of tourists, especially in the summer.

But my hopes of finding it were quickly slipping away.

I looked around where I'd thought I'd been sitting last night but found nothing.

I looked behind me at the blue and white building of condos, noting my favorite one with the yellow door, and turned to look out. Maybe I'd been closer to the water than I'd thought?

But instead of seeing the waves or the ocean or the sand, all I could see was a man.

And my heart stopped mid-beat and my stomach flipped on its side.

A man more beautiful and devastatingly handsome than any man had any right to be. He was tall and built like a man who worked hard for the kind of body he had. He was older than me, with a little bit of a bump on his nose that in no way took away from how captivating he was.

If anything, it added character.

His hair was a little long with a slight wave, almost like he had been swimming in saltwater, or maybe surfing. Surfing. Definitely. He had the body for it. He looked like he could handle himself almost anywhere, but most definitely in the water. There was just the right amount of scruff on his jaw that left you wondering just how good it would feel when he kissed your neck. Or a multitude of other spots south from there. If I had to guess, he was in his late thirties, maybe forty.

I'd forgotten all about my favorite paint pen.

All I could see and think about was the man staring right back at me. Mine, a voice whispered. I scolded myself for being crazy. He wasn't mine. No way would a man that good looking glance at me twice.

I broke eye contact and silently reminded myself to focus.

My paint pen, I reminded myself. I tried to pretend I was looking for it, but I was crazily aware of the man still staring at me. His gaze felt like a caress. A warm one. I glanced back up because I couldn't not look at him again, and sure enough, I'd been right.

He was still staring at me.

But the serious look on his face melted away, and in its wake appeared the most charming, crooked smile. One that made me smile back.

Before I knew what was happening, he was walking. But not away from me. Nope. Not away from me but toward me. Holy shit! He's coming this way!

And I just stood there.

Usually when strange men approached me, there was a feeling of apprehension. Living in a small town that attracted a few of tourists your whole life, so you had to deal douchebag from time to time, you couldn't help it. But the closer he got, the more I felt like I knew him. He was familiar, but I couldn't figure out how.

"Hey." His deep voice felt like a warm velvety throw blanket. "I'm Dan," he introduced himself the moment he was within reach, his hand extended toward me. I looked down at it and blinked. His hand was huge.

"Hi, Dan." My eyes met his again, and for some reason, I took his hand with mine. The moment our palms connected, I felt it. This zing and zip. Of what? I wasn't sure, but it was there. And I liked it. My entire body did. "How are you?" I breathed, and his lips twitched.

"Good, and you?" he asked. I licked my lips. My mouth felt dry.

"Good." I nodded. I was very aware we were still slowly shaking hands. His hand was double the size of mine. Strong yet gentle. Calloused yet tender.

Close up I could make out the warm caramel color of his eyes. But they weren't just caramel-colored, they were melted, ooey-gooey caramel. Just the perfect shade it got when it was ready to be drizzled over incredible cupcakes or popcorn.

"Nice weather today." I fought myself from wincing. God, I am an idiot! I was the world's worst flirt to ever live! Well, no, maybe second worst. I'd seen my sister get giggly over our high school's star basketball player back in the day, and that had been like watching a train wreck you couldn't look away from.

"Very nice." His voice dropped, and I shivered. There was something about the tone of his voice that had me feeling very, very hot.

"Well, umm, it was nice meeting you." I started to pull my hand away from his, but he didn't let me. His head tilted and his perfect lips smirked. Jesus, the guy was hot stuff, and something told me he knew it.

"I don't think we have officially met," he said, and I blinked

"What?" His eyes warmed. I could have almost sworn they dropped to my lips, but he was so quick I wasn't sure.

"You didn't tell me your name," he pointed out. I shut my eyes for a moment. Maybe I could challenge Abby for the worst flirt afterall?

"Oh!" Of course I hadn't! I laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm Karol. Well, Karolina, Karolina Rivas, but my friends call me Karol."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." A line that would have sounded cheesy from anyone else sounded genuine and seriously sexy with a touch of swoonyness.

"Well, umm, thank you." My face felt warmer.

"What brings you out here?" he asked, and I laughed again.

"It's the beach." I shrugged.

"I get that. It's just, you're not really dressed for the beach."

"Oh." I glanced down at my outfit. He had a point. I was wearing my usual Poppy Beach Rec Center polo and jeans. "I came here from work," I explained and for some reason kept sharing. "I was here last night and thought I dropped something but—" My words died on my tongue when, with his free hand, he pulled a black pen from his back pocket and brought it up between us.

"Any chance this is what you were looking for?"

"Yes!" I jumped, actually jumped with enthusiasm. "Thank you! Ohmygod! You have no idea how much you've made my day! This is my favorite pen ever."

"Ever, huh?"

"There's something about the way it paints, I don't know, it"s just my favorite. Thank you! I really thought I'd lost it! I was about to give up."

"Funny, so was I," he muttered, and I frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing." Dan shook his head and let go of my hand before taking a step back. "So, you came from work?"

"Yeah, I'm on my lunch break." I smiled. "Shoot." I glanced at my Apple Watch. "I actually have to head back."

"Mind if I walk with you?". Normally, I would have turned any other stranger who would have asked that down. I would have looked up at him, smiled politely, and said I was okay and to enjoy his time at Poppy Beach.

But the wish I'd made on that shooting star last night floated through my head. Not to mention that when my eyes caught his, it felt like we were the only two people to exist in the world.

"If you want to, that would be nice."

"There is nothing else I'd rather do." He extended his arm, and when I reached for it without thinking, he hooked his elbow with mine.

When we reached the street and were out of the sand, we both put our sandals back on. He protectively moved around me, so I was on the inside of the sidewalk. We hadn't taken a step before his hand slipped into mine. Like he had done it a million times over a dozen lifetimes. And when his eyes met mine with a look in them like he wondered if I felt it, too, something in me softened. Whatever walls I'd unknowingly built around me after any previous dating catastrophe in my life started to crumble.

And I had a feeling it was Mr. Hot Stuff's fault.

That and making wishes on shooting stars.