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“Silas. Baily. Me. We were all scared for you,” he said, his voice husky.
“Okay. Who else wasreallyutterly terrified that something might have happened to me? And if you sayDawson, Hayes, or Fletcher, I’ll kick you where it counts.”
He took a moment and pulled up that night. Plucked out the whispers and the chatter. It wasn’t that people weren’t concerned, because they had been—but she was right. Most had been gossiping about how her showmanship—weird choice of words—had finally bitten her in the ass.
However, that wasn’t it at all.
Backing a boat in was commonplace. He did it all the time. He backed his truck into his garage.
All she was doing was what everyone else in this town did. Except, they saw a prissy little rich girl showing off daddy’s toys.
He cringed. “I might have misjudged certain aspects of this.”
“Ya think?”
“Jeez, you’re a tough crowd.” He took her glass, set it on the table, and traced her cheek with his thumb. “As crazy as this will sound coming from me, I like who you are.”
“You have a weird way of showing it.”
“Perhaps this is a better way.” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her closer. His heart tightened as he pressed his mouth to her sweet, plump lips.
A fire erupted deep in his belly. It spread over his skin like warm butter melting on top of a pancake. His tongue caught hers, twisting and turning, tasting the robust wine.
She grabbed his shoulders, and for a split second, he braced himself to be rejected. He wouldn’t blame her.He’d been an asshole. It didn’t matter that, to him, he had justifiable reasons. She didn’t know them any more than he’d taken the time to truly understand her. She fisted his shirt, deepening the kiss until it was wild and out of control.
They were both breathless, hanging on to each other as if for dear life under the blanket of stars, as the sweet sound of the ocean waves rolled across his ears.
He ran his hand down her collarbone and cupped her breast, forgetting they were sitting on her porch. He’d lost all touch with reality. Nothing mattered but her.
His thumb brushed over her nipple, eliciting a gasp from her parted lips. Emboldened, he let his fingers venture farther, tracing her contours with an artist's precision, a reverence that belied his previous disregard. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, her body melting into his touch like molten wax bleeding onto parchment. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, a thrilling symphony underscored by the song of the sea and their ragged breaths.
“Wait,” she gasped suddenly and pulled away sharply, breaking their connection. Confused at her reaction, he blinked. Her chest rose and fell heavily under the moonlit sky, eyes wide and filled with something indecipherable.
He feared he’d pushed too far, and his audacious move was unwelcome. But there was no anger in her eyes, no spurned offense or disapproval. Instead, there was an intensity that both intrigued and alarmed him.
“Listen,” she said, quieter now but with a clear urgency in her voice.
The only sounds were the ocean waves rhythmically caressing the shoreline and the occasional faint laughter of some partygoers in the distance. And then it came, a gentle padding from around the corner of the house, growing louder until a dog appeared by their side.
The animal wagged its tail, completely oblivious to the precious moment it had interrupted.
Chuckling at the irony of it all—a man treading uncharted territory with an enchanting woman only to be halted by an excited pet—he dropped his forehead against hers and let out a relieved sigh. “Your dog?”
“No, the neighbor’s down the street,” she said, turning her head. “Sawyer, go home, now.”
The dog whimpered but turned and trotted off, its tail happily wagging in the air.
“Shall we go inside?” she asked so softly he thought he might have been hearing things, but when she stood, collected the tray of food, and made her way toward the door, he knew he’d lost all ability to keep the emotions of the last year at bay.
He followed her into the house. This time, he noted the details. The decor was simpler than he’d anticipated. A seaside beach home. Teal-green, blues, and whites, decorated in a combination of new and old with a hint of nautical. So fitting.
He followed her to the kitchen, wine and glasses in hand. Without saying anything, he set everything down, watching her as she tossed the cheese back in the fridge.
She turned. “Inviting you up to my bedroom is crazy, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He inched closer, wrapping his arms around her slender but muscular frame. “However, we can end things here.” He kissed her tenderly. “For tonight, as long as I know you’ll go out with me.”
Resting her hands on his shoulders, she chuckled. “Would you think badly of me if I didn’t want you to go?”