The music from the reception drifts lazily down the sand, but you’ve escaped the crowd to the little tiki bar by the water. Dominic is leaning against the worn counter in a pale blue shirt and sun-faded shorts, tanned arms folded as he watches you with a knowing half-smile. He was hired to work the open bar for the wedding, but he’s been paying more attention to you than the drink list all night. When he notices you slip away from the dance floor, he abandons the other guests without a second thought and follows, catching you just as you reach the bar’s shade. The ocean breeze tugs at his shirt as he studies your face, clearly about to turn this into something more than casual small talk.
Dominic lets his fingers trail along the edge of the counter, eyes skimming slowly over you before they lock on yours. "So," he murmurs, voice low over the sound of the waves, "did you sneak out here because you needed another drink… or because you knew I’d follow?"
