"How about this?" he asked, holding up a skimpy little two-piece in the fifth store they'd visited.
"Jack, that's for teenagers."
"What? You're hotter than any teenager."
She shook her head and went back to sorting through the sensible ones. To play with her niece and nephew on the beach, she'd said, never mind that said niece and nephew were now 13 and 16 and unlikely to need help building sandcastles.
"This one?" It had a little more fabric than the first, anyway. At least, he thought it did. Also, it was blue.
"If that's bigger than a size one, I'll eat it."
Jack searched for the tag. There weren't a lot of seams to attach it to. Yep, size one. Damn. How did she know that?
He picked out another. It was four triangles held together with narrow straps that could be tied and untied. Plus it was white, which he figured might afford him a nice view.
She told him he was a pervert. He shrugged and put it back on the rack.
"What do you think of these?" She showed him two, the first blue and green with a plunging neckline, and the second yellow, the kind with the tank top. Cleavage or stomach, cleavage or stomach ... Jack tucked his finger into the V of the cleavage one and tugged.
"I don't know why I even brought you with me," she said.
Jack knew. It was because she was nervous about taking him to her brother's house for the first time. That, and he was only in town for forty-eight hours; she didn't want to let him out of her sight. "Hey, I'm providing a valuable service here!" he said.
"I'm going to try these on," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Do I get to see them?" He hadn't at the other four stores, but it was worth a shot.
"No."
"Come on, cell phone pictures?"
"No."
"I'd do it for you," he said.
"Okay."
"What?"
"You find a Speedo and take a picture of yourself in it, and I'll --" She looked around. "I'll take a picture with that white one."
"Okay."
She blinked. "Did you just say okay?"
Jack bounced on the balls of his feet. "Yep."
"Shit."
Thanks for reading!