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Relief and joy wash through me. I pull her down for a kiss that tries to convey the depth of emotion I feel knowing she loves me.
“Only you,” I murmur against her lips, “could make that sound romantic.”
“It is romantic,” she insists.
“Okay...” I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Very romantic.”
“Mock all you want,” she says, settling back against my chest. “But loving you is the least logical conclusion I’ve reached in my life.”
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, catching me watching her.
“How remarkably right this feels,” I admit. “You, here. Us together, going public with our relationship.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she warns.
“Not flattery,” I correct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Chapter Fifteen
EPILOGUE
ETHAN – ONE YEAR LATER
“You still owe me a boat,” Harper declares, leaning against the railing of my grandfather’s restored yacht, hair whipping in the sea breeze. We’re cruising along the coast of the Mediterranean, the sunset painting the water in shades of gold and rose that make her skin glow.
“I believe I promised you a research vessel,” I correct, moving to stand beside her. “This seventy-year-old wooden yacht, while beautiful, does not meet those specifications.”
“Mmm, true,” she says, smiling as I slip an arm around her waist. “Though the solar conversion and electric motor retrofit are impressive.”
“High praise from Dr. Bennett,” I press a kiss to her temple, still amazed that I can do this so freely—touch her, hold her, love her openly after a full year together.
“Credit where it’s due,” she says, leaning into my embrace. “The old Harper would have dismissed it.”
“The old Ethan would have considered it an unnecessary expense without clear ROI,” I admit. “We’ve both grown.”
A year. Twelve months since we disembarked from that insane love-cruise, our fake relationship grown into something neither of us expected. In that time, we’ve had professional complications, public scrutiny, and the everyday challenges of two strong-willed people with different worldviews being in a relationship.
It hasn’t always been smooth sailing. We’ve argued over seafood sustainability, carbon offset, and whether my private jet can be justified by any rational environmental cost-benefit analysis (her definitive conclusion: no).
Yet somehow, these disagreements haven’t wrecked our connection. If anything, they’ve strengthened it—forcing us to communicate, respect different perspectives, and find creative compromises.
“What are you thinking about?” Harper asks, with that gaze that still makes my heart race after all these months.
“How remarkably well this has worked,” I answer. “Us. This unlikely partnership.”
“Worked so far,” she corrects.
“Always the scientist,” I say with a smile.
She laughs, the sound carrying across the water. “I am just being honest.”
She turns in my arms, studying me with unexpected vulnerability.
I silence her with a kiss, a tactic I’ve found effective for redirecting our disagreements in more enjoyable directions. She responds, her arms wind around my neck.
“Cheating,” she murmurs against my lips when we part.
“Intervention,” I correct.