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“Wow. I wanna come back to the Brad and Julia thing later, but what do you think Aurelie’s going to do if she stays? Where will she live for starters? I’ve seen your place and it’s barely big enough for you and your TV dinners.”

“I don’t know,” Paige admitted. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet. I have a feeling this was her plan the whole time, and I can’t say I hate it. I mean I’ve missed her, and I think she’ll love Banberry. She must have had some idea because she came with all of her credentials, all her equipment.”

Owen held up glasses for each of them filled with the caramel-colored liquid that had nursed her through her breakup with Paulo. The scent almost bowled her over it brought back so many memories.

“And all her rum.”

“Yes, thank God. That, too.” Paige smiled for the first time in a while, remembering how nice that was, too.

They clinked glasses, Owen’s gaze never leaving hers.

“To your health,” he whispered.

She nodded, mesmerized by him.

The liquid warmed her from her from the inside out. The hint of spice and coconut danced in her mouth and her heart ached with the life she’d walked away from, but also the one she was leaving behind here.

Owen closed the distance between them, stealing the last of the breath trapped in her lungs. He took her glass from her hands and placed it on the counter in front of her. He did the same with his, and with his now-idle hands, pulled her into him.

Before her mind could argue about what an awful idea it was, Owen’s mouth was on hers, the sweet taste on his tongue partly from the rum. The other part was just him.

She kissed him back, wrapping her hands in his hair, chills coursing down her spine as the muscle memory of loving this man came back to her in floods.

She gave over to the tide, bent into Owen with everything she’d been using to hold herself back until that moment. Her tongue reached for what it wanted, for more of the sweetness Owen offered.

Hands migrated to her waist, thumbs pressing into her hips, making her wet through her panties, which, she realized, were hideous.

Never mind. She shut down her brain for good, moving her own hands beneath the white work shirt Owen wore, breathing in the scent of work and wood chips that always seemed to emanate off his skin. It was exhilarating and comforting at the same time.

His skin was smooth and she used her pointer finger and thumb to tease his nipples to rough peaks that she would nibble on later. For now, his mouth sated her, making her unbelievably glad she’d baked him a pie, came over to apologize. She fiddled with his belt, frustrated that it wouldn’t budge, like it was glued at the buckle or something. She’d saw it off if she had to, she wanted him that badly.

Breaking free of his kiss to glance down, she realized small wood shavings were snagged in between the metal and leather, acting as stops each time she tried to pull at it. She giggled, picking them out one by one, desperate to get at the swelling that rose beneath Owen’s jeans.

“You’ve really got to stop taking your work home with you,” she teased.

He growled, a rumble that started low in his throat and vibrated his chest where her hands had just been. He nibbled at her neck, his teeth grazing her skin and making all the hairs on her arms stand on end. She shuddered with desire and finally broke the belt free and whipped it out of his jeans, accidentally lashing him on the arm.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I’m so sorry.” She bent down to kiss the red welt that rose on his tanned bicep, her lips brushing over the mark, until he took his hands to her cheeks and pulled her back up to him. His tongue explored the cavern of her mouth and she moaned with pleasure.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re staying, Paige,” he whispered between her lips, the words traveling down her throat. She smiled, running her tongue along Owen’s lips.

Until the words sunk in enough for her brain to register them.

She pulled away, his arms barely able to reach around her.

“What do you mean?”

He cocked his head, confused but didn’t answer.

“I’m still leaving, Owen.”

His arms fell from her hips and settled on his own.

“What?” he spat. “What about Aurelie? You said you were excited to see her. That she’s staying.”

He roared, hurting her ears. Hurting her heart.

“I can’t stay for her, Owen. She knows that. So do you. I’ll figure out work along the way.”