They decided to pass on dessert, instead heading over to the beach. The tide was low, the sea a distant rumble. With no breeze, the air was warmer than usual for late July. They found a sheltered spot on the sand below the promenade, just out of the glare of a street light.
Grace was feeling a little tipsy, having polished off Jason’s flask of Malibu. Having grown to like him over the course of the evening, she found herself up for anything. She’d never actually done it on the beach, and had only ever heard bad things from people who had—that it was never like the movies, there were always stones, and the sand got everywhere—but now that she was in the position where it might happen, she found herself not against it. Jason was nice enough, if a bit short, and it would certainly make a cha
