Page 81 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Makai

I fidgeted with my keys as I leaned against my truck, scanning the crowd of passengers disembarking from the ferry. The familiar knot of anticipation tightened in my gut—part excitement, part something deeper I wasn’t ready to name. Five days shouldn’t have felt like an eternity, but it had.

I’d missed him. His wife had missed him, and though I’d enjoyed her company immensely, there’d been an empty space at the table where he should have been.

The ferry had docked ten minutes ago, disgorging a stream of vehicles and foot passengers. I knew Hamish was on it somewhere. He’d called and announced that he was never riding in a seaplane again, whatever that meant, then given us the ferry schedule.

I couldn’t wait to see him.

I pushed off the truck, standing taller to see over the crowd. And then I spotted him, tall and handsome, with chestnut hair that glinted in the sunlight. He looked different somehow, more relaxed. It was as if every time we met, I saw less of the frightened man I’d first met, and more of who he was supposed to be.

Our eyes met across the crowd, and his face broke into a smile that hit me square in the chest. Fuck, I was in trouble. This wasn’t supposed to be anything serious.

We jogged toward each other, meeting in the middle.

“Makai.”

He dropped his bag and stepped into my space, hesitating only briefly before leaning in for a kiss. His lips were warm and firm against mine, the slight scratch of stubble making me shiver. I gripped his waist, pulling him closer, not caring who might see us, and devoured his mouth like a man starved.

“Missed you,”

I said against his lips. I pulled back just enough to look at him.

“How was England?”

“Stressful. Rainy. Crowded. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing I’d get to leave soon.”

He glanced around.

“No Imogen?”

“She’s stuck at work. Some bride having a meltdown about the table settings.”

I picked up his bag and carried it back to my truck.

“She wanted to be here, but she’s on damage control. She said she’d meet us later tonight.”

He smiled, chewing his bottom lip.

“I’m a little sad she couldn’t make it, but it’s good to see her show such a passion for her work. She’s truly thriving here, isn’t she?”

“Seems like it,”

I said, smiling at his thoughtfulness.

“How was your week with her…”

he trailed off, eyebrows shooting up as he watched me throw his suitcase into the bed of my truck.

“Awful. We fought like cats and dogs.”

His face fell. “Oh.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine.

“Joking. We fucked. A lot.”

He beamed.

“Mm, that’s good.”

“And she spent every night in bed with me, telling me stories about horses. Trying to make them sound a little less scary.”

I popped open the trunk and threw his bag in. Was it bigger than the one he’d brought before? It seemed like it.

Hamish blinked.

“I still don’t understand why you’re afraid of horses. You’re fearless.”

“That’s what she said, too. But I’m not fearless. I also don’t like spiders. A man can’t be perfect.”

“Spiders, I can understand, but horses? They’re beautiful and magnificent.”

“Yep. They are. From a safe distance.”

I slid behind the wheel, turning to face him as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“So, we’ve got options. I can take you to Imogen’s cottage at the Cannery so you can get some rest, or we can head to my place, where she’s been sleeping anyway. Fair warning though—I’ve got clients coming in about two hours for a mountain bike tour.”

Hamish’s cheeks flushed pink, his eyes dropping to his hands.

“If Imogen’s busy, I’d rather hang out with you until your clients arrive.”

“Yeah?”

I tried to hide my excitement by starting the engine.

“Don’t need a nap after your flight?”

“I slept on the plane.”

His flush deepened.

“I was finally able to relax after I dealt with everything back in England. It helped knowing I was coming back here. And I enjoyed that video you two sent me.”

Heat pooled in my groin at the memory of filming Imogen spread out in my trailer, her pussy stretched around my cock while she touched herself.

“The one where I’m fucking your wife while she thanks you for letting her have my cock?”

He shifted in his seat.

“God, yes. I must have watched it a dozen times. Wanked so much I’m going to develop a chafing problem.”

I laughed, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Fuck, Hamish. I love your dirty side.”

“You bring it out in me, apparently.”

His hand landed on my thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Among other things you’ve discovered about me.”

I covered his hand with mine, lacing our fingers together.

“It’s too bad I’ve got these clients coming. I’d much rather take you back to my place and see if we can top that video.”

“There’s always tonight.”

His thumb stroked the inside of my wrist, sending sparks up my arm.

“With Imogen.”

I nodded, forcing myself to focus on the road and not the growing bulge in my shorts. An idea struck me—impulsive, probably stupid, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Come with me on the tour,” I said.

Hamish turned to me, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“The mountain bike tour. It’s the same trail we rode last week—the one with the overlook.”

I squeezed his hand.

“You’ve done it twice before, you know the route well enough to pull up the rear. You could help me guide.”

“I’m no guide,”

he protested, though I caught the interest in his voice.

“It’s a family—parents and three kids. You’d just need to hang back with the slower ones, make sure nobody gets left behind or lost. I’ll lead from the front.”

Hamish hesitated, chewing his lower lip.

“You really think I’m skilled enough?”

“Absolutely.”

I meant it. For a guy who’d barely touched a mountain bike before this summer, Hamish had picked it up remarkably fast.

“Plus, you’re good with people. Better than me, honestly. You’ve got that posh British thing going on—makes people trust you.”

He laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out.

“My ‘posh British thing’ is a professional asset, I suppose.”

“So, what do you say? Want to play tour guide with me today?”

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

“Yes,”

he said finally, his eyes bright with excitement.

“That sounds brilliant. Though I should warn you—I’ve never worked with children before.”

“Kids are easy. Just treat them like people. Don’t talk down to them, and you’ll be fine.”

I squeezed his thigh, letting my hand linger.

“We’ve got time to prep the bikes before they arrive. And I’ve got spare gear that should fit you.”

Hamish covered my hand with his, a smile spreading across his face.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m looking forward to it. A month ago, the idea of mountain biking would have terrified me.”

“A month ago, you wouldn’t have been caught dead making out with a surf instructor at a ferry terminal, either.”

“True enough.”

He leaned across the center console, pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth.

“You’ve been a terrible influence on me, Makai Yamamoto.”

I turned my head, capturing his lips properly.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

We spent the drive back to Strawberry Creek Ranch trying to settle or raging libidos, which wasn’t an easy task, but Hamish brought up a lot of fascinating facts about spiders and horses to help me.

When we got there, we checked the bikes we’d need, airing tires and checking brakes. Until the crunch of tires on gravel announced our clients’ arrival—a silver SUV pulling into the parking area beside the barn. I straightened, switching into professional mode as two adults and three kids piled out of the vehicle.

“Ready for this?”

I bumped Hamish’s shoulder with mine.

He nodded, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing for battle instead of a family bike ride.

“As I’ll ever be.”

The family approached—dad in expensive-looking outdoor gear, mom in practical shorts and a sun hat, followed by two lanky boys and a small girl with blonde pigtails and a determined expression that reminded me weirdly of Imogen.

“Welcome to Salish Sea Adventure Tours.”

I stepped forward, extending my hand.

“I’m Makai, and this is Hamish, my co-guide for today’s mountain bike excursion.”

The father shook my hand firmly.

“Tom Mitchell. This is my wife Renee, and our kids—Jake, Leon, and Aimee.”

“First time mountain biking?”

I asked, leading them toward the row of bikes.

“It’s Aimee’s first time. The boys have gone a few times,”

Renee answered.

“And Tom and I used to ride quite a bit before they came along.”

“We’ve got three skill levels of trails here,”

I explained, glancing at Hamish with a hint of pride as he knelt to help Aimee find a helmet that fit her.

“We’ll start on the easy loop to get everyone comfortable, then decide if we want to tackle anything more challenging.”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of bike adjustments, safety instructions, and basic skills practice in the flat area beside the barn. I demonstrated the proper body position, braking technique, and how to shift gears efficiently. To my surprise, Hamish jumped in naturally, adding clear, patient explanations that complemented my more physical teaching style.

“Remember, your bike wants to stay upright when it’s moving,”

Hamish told Aimee, who looked apprehensive on the blue bike we’d prepped for her.

“Just like a spinning top. The faster you go, the more stable you’ll be.”

“But what if I fall?”

she asked, her small hands gripping the handlebars tightly.

Hamish smiled, adjusting her helmet one more time.

“Then you’ll get back up, just like with anything worth doing. And I’ll be right behind you the entire time.”

Something warm unfurled in my chest watching them—the way Hamish spoke to the girl without a trace of condescension, how he’d instinctively picked up on her fears and addressed them directly. I forced myself to look away, focusing on checking Jake and Leon’s bikes one last time.

“Everyone ready?”

I called, mounting my own bike.

“We’ll take it nice and easy to start.”

We set off down the beginner trail, a well-packed dirt path winding through the forest with gentle hills and wide turns. I took the lead with Jake and Leon close behind, their youthful energy immediately apparent as they peppered me with questions about jumps and tricks. Tom and Renee followed at a steady pace, while Hamish brought up the rear with Aimee.

After a few minutes, I glanced back to check on them. Hamish rode alongside the girl, talking animatedly, his hands occasionally leaving the handlebars to gesture. Whatever he was saying had Aimee giggling, her initial fear transformed into cautious enjoyment.

“Can we try that?”

Jake pointed to a small dirt ramp branching off the main trail—nothing dangerous, just enough for a beginner to get a taste of air beneath their tires.

“Sure thing.”

I guided the boys toward the feature.

“Watch me first, then we’ll take it one at a time.”

I demonstrated the approach and lift, getting just enough air to make the boys whoop with excitement. Leon went next, then Jake, both executing wobbly but successful jumps. I high-fived them both, then let them try again, until their parents caught up, but there was no sign of Hamish and Aimee. I gave the family directions to continue the loop, promising to go back to check on Hamish and Aimee.

“I can’t do it,”

she insisted, her lower lip quivering slightly.

“It’s too steep.”

“It does look steep from here,”

Hamish agreed.

“But what if we try it together? I’ll ride right beside you the whole way.”

I hung back, watching as he patiently talked her through the approach, showing her where to position her weight, when to brake. After a few minutes of coaching, they remounted their bikes and tackled the hill together—Hamish calling out encouragement the entire way up.

When they reached the top, Aimee’s face split into a grin of pure triumph.

“I did it!”

she shouted, looking back at the hill with wide eyes.

“Did you see me, Mr. Hamish? I did it!”

“You absolutely did,”

Hamish beamed at her, his face alight with genuine joy at her accomplishment.

“And brilliantly, too. Perfect technique.”

In that moment, I could see it so clearly—Hamish and me running tours together, his patient instruction complementing my more adventurous approach. Building something lasting here on the island, with both him and Imogen. The three of us making a life together. The vision hit me with such force I had to look away, pretending to adjust my bike seat while I got my shit together.

Because they weren’t staying.

“Everything alright?”

Hamish asked, riding over to me while Aimee proudly pedaled ahead to show her parents what she’d learned.

“Yeah, just making sure my bike’s good.”

I straightened, forcing a grin.

“You’re a natural with kids, you know that? Might have to steal you from the investment world and make you a full-time adventure guide.”

“I’m not sure guiding would pay for the upkeep on an eight-bedroom estate.”

There was something wistful in his eyes.

“Come on, let’s catch up,”

I said, climbing back onto my bike. We rejoined the group, continuing along the trail with Hamish still attentive to Aimee’s progress. By the time we returned to the ranch, all three kids buzzed with excitement and accomplishment. Aimee tugged at her parents’ sleeves, insisting they watch as she showed off her new mountain biking skills in the practice area.

“Your colleague is excellent with children,”

Renee commented as we unloaded water bottles from my pack.

“Has he been guiding long?”

“He’s...new to the team,”

I replied, watching Hamish patiently adjust Leon’s helmet.

“But a quick study.”

After the family departed with promises to book another tour before leaving the island, Hamish helped me store the bikes, his movements easy and relaxed.

“That was fun,”

he said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy teaching others, but there’s something satisfying about seeing them improve.”

I caught myself staring at him again, at this version of Hamish I never could have imagined when we first met.

“You’re full of surprises, Walker.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing mine as he reached for a bike lock.

“Though I think we’ve barely scratched the surface of surprises between us.”