Page 83 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Imogen

I woke sandwiched between two warm bodies, Hamish’s arm draped over my waist and Makai’s back pressed against mine.

Memories of last night flooded back—watching my husband come all over his stomach with Makai thrusting deep inside him, the raw intimacy they’d shared. Something had shifted between us all, boundaries dissolving like sandcastles at high tide. Now, with the weight of Marco and Juniper’s job offer pressing on my mind, I needed to have a conversation with Hamish that could change everything.

I carefully extracted myself from between them, trying not to wake either man. My cramps had subsided overnight, or perhaps I’d been right and the orgasm had helped.. Hamish stirred, his eyes fluttering open to find mine.

“Morning,”

he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and a light stubble shadowed his jaw. I’d never seen him look so beautifully disheveled.

“Morning.”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, then glanced at Makai, still sleeping soundly, one arm now flung across the space I’d vacated.

Hamish followed my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“He looks peaceful.”

“He does.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Tea? Makai bought you your Yorkshire Gold.”

“Mm, brilliant,”

he whispered.

I kissed my husband’s forehead and let them snuggle.

In Makai’s kitchen, I filled the kettle and set it to boil, moving around the space with a newfound familiarity. I’d spent enough mornings here now to know where he kept the mugs, the tea bags, the honey that Hamish preferred in place of sugar. Domestic rituals in a home that wasn’t ours.

The kettle had just clicked off when Makai wandered in, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants. He yawned widely, scratching his chest.

“You’re up early.”

He sidled behind me to grab a mug from the cabinet, his body heat radiating against my back.

“Thought you might sleep in after last night.”

I felt my cheeks warm at the memory.

“Some habits die hard. Hamish never sleeps past seven, even on holiday.”

Makai froze for a second, and I realized what I’d said.

He turned away from me, spooning coffee into his French press and adding the water from the kettle.

“You’re still thinking of this as just a vacation?”

Before I could respond, Makai glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Shit, I’m running late. Got a kayak tour with that Silicon Valley group.”

He poured his coffee into a travel mug, then pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, who looked pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t wait up. I have an afternoon lesson, too. It might be a late one.”

And just like that, he was gone; the door slamming behind him with a bang that seemed to echo in the sudden quiet of the kitchen.

“He’s quite the whirlwind,”

Hamish said as he wandered into the kitchen.

I nodded, staring at the door Makai had just exited through.

“I think I upset him when I said we were on holiday.”

“Hm,”

he said, staring at the door. I turned to face him, studying the man I’d married. Something about him had changed over these past weeks—a lightness to his posture, a softness around his eyes that had been missing before. And suddenly, I wanted to tell him everything. To figure it all out with him.

“Fancy a walk on the beach?”

I asked impulsively.

“It’s a beautiful morning.”

“I’d love that. Just let me dress and grab my keys.”

***

Thirty minutes later, we strolled along the shore of Cannery Beach State Park, shoes in hand, toes sinking into cool, damp sand. The tide was retreating, leaving behind tide pools filled with tiny, scuttling creatures and gleaming shells. In the distance, the Cannery Hotel rose against the cliffs, its weathered facade blending harmoniously with the natural landscape.

The place where I might soon work permanently. Where we might build a life so different from the one we’d known.

“You’re awfully quiet,”

Hamish observed, nudging my shoulder with his.

“Still having the cramps?”

I smiled.

“A bit. Last night was intense. Watching you two together.”

“It was incredible.”

His voice dropped lower.

“I never imagined I could feel like that with anyone other than you. He makes me feel free of all the trappings of my parents’ life.”

I squeezed his hand, happiness for him momentarily overshadowing my anxiety about the conversation to come.

“You deserve to feel that way all the time.”

“So do you.”

He stopped walking, turning to face me.

“Imogen, what’s on your mind? You’ve been distracted since I got back.”

The moment had arrived sooner than I’d planned. I took a deep breath, tasting salt on the air.

“I met with Marco, Juniper, and Tristan. They offered me a job. A permanent position. Here.”

Hamish’s expression remained neutral, impossible to read. “Go on.”

“Director of Events for all their properties, with the Cannery as my home base.”

The words tumbled out faster now.

“I’d have to travel to Portland and Seattle some, but could spend most of my time here. They said I have an eye for detail, an instinct for what works. They think I belong here, Hamish. It was just so wonderful to hear. So rewarding to be recognized after all the hard work I’ve put in this summer. I wanted to tell you immediately. But I was afraid…”

I trailed off, not sure how to say it.

“Afraid of what, love?”

I sighed.

“Afraid you might not want me to take the job, when everything in my heart is telling me I should.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just stared out at the horizon where sea met sky in a blurred line of blue. My stomach twisted with nerves.

“Do you?”

he asked finally.

“Belong here?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his question.

“I—I don’t know. Maybe? I feel purposeful here, and I love the work. It’s not something I expected, I thought I’d tire of it like everything else. But you need to return to Dorset, and I can’t imagine living on different continents.”

“They have wedding planners back in the UK too, you know.”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“You could work as a wedding planner anywhere.”

“Of course they do! I know that. And Marco said he’d give me a reference no matter what I decide.”

I flushed.

“It’s not just the job though, is it? It’s...everything. The island, the people, the life here. The slow pace.”

I hesitated, then added in a rush, “Makai.”

“Ah.”

Hamish’s smile widened. “Makai.”

“I didn’t mean—it’s not— We’d need to figure things out. It’s complicated.”

“Because you’re falling in love with him?”

The question hit me like a physical blow. I stared at Hamish, searching his face for anger or hurt, but found only gentle curiosity.

“I don’t know,”

I whispered, though it was a lie. I knew. But I hadn’t admitted it to myself yet, let alone to my husband.

“You’re my husband. I love you.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Imogen.”

Hamish resumed walking, tugging me along beside him.

“I’ve seen how you look at him. How you light up when he enters a room. How he makes you laugh.”

“Hamish—”

“Oh, stop panicking. I’m not upset.”

His voice was calm, steady.

“How could I be, when I feel the same way?”

I stopped in my tracks, sand shifting beneath my feet.

“Are you sure?”

“I have feelings for him too.”

Hamish looked almost shy as he admitted it.

“I almost let it slip out this morning in bed, or last night, when he was fucking me. It’s not just physical attraction, though there’s plenty of that.”

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further in the sea breeze.

“It’s more than that. He makes me feel alive, pushes me out of my comfort zone. You’re the only other person who’s been able to do that.”

“Oh.”

The single syllable contained multitudes—relief, wonder, confusion.

We walked in silence for several minutes, the rhythmic crash of waves providing a soundtrack to my tumbling thoughts. If we both felt this way about Makai, what did it mean for us? For our marriage? For our future?

“I have a confession of my own,”

Hamish said abruptly.

“I’ve been keeping a secret since I got back too. I quit my job.”

I stopped walking again, certain I’d misheard.

“You what?”

“I resigned. That’s why I went to the UK, to wrap up some final things for my clients, make sure they had someone good watching over their estates. Then I told Pemberton I wouldn’t be coming back.”

His expression was a mix of terror and exhilaration.

“I’ve hated that job for years, Imogen. I just didn’t realize how much until I came here and saw what it looks like when people are passionate about their work. You, with your wedding planning. Makai, with his adventure tours. You both have such passion for what you do.”

“But—the firm, your clients—”

“The firm will carry on without me.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know what I want to do next. But there’s no going back to that life. I was miserable. You were the only light in my life, and I fear I relied on you for too much of my happiness.”

I stared at my husband, this man I thought I knew completely, suddenly revealed as a stranger capable of surprising me.

“What about the estate? Our home?”

“That’s the tough part. I don’t want to sell it. It’s my last connection to my parents and family. And that old building is a money pit.”

He reached for my hands, holding them between his own.

“But perhaps we could find tenants to help cover the cost of upkeep? Or board horses at the stables? I don’t know what the answer is yet, but I have hope that we’ll find it. We’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

I chewed my bottom lip.

“We have. I wonder how one finds tenants for a stately home who would take care of it properly.”

I trailed off, the enormity of a move like this suddenly hitting me. How did one find tenants who would show proper care for a historic property?

“I have to believe we can work it out,”

Hamish said.

“And if worse comes to worst, we can bankroll keeping the estate in good repair with my trust fund. Might have to tighten our belts a bit, spend a little less, but I’d imagine we could.”

“We could live with Makai,”

I whispered.

“Is that what you want to do, Hamish?”

He looked thoughtful, his gaze turning back toward the water.

“I’m not entirely sure what I want yet. But I know I want more mornings like this—waking up somewhere beautiful, with people I care deeply for. Maybe I want to keep helping with Makai’s tours. Or something similar. I liked that, teaching others, seeing them improve.”

“You were good at it,”

I whispered.

“He told me.”

A pleased flush colored Hamish’s cheeks.

“Yeah. It was fun and rewarding, something I don’t think I’ve ever said about work. And if he doesn’t want me at his company, perhaps I could do something similar.”

I tried to picture it, my proper British husband leading mountain bike excursions or teaching surfing lessons, and found that the image came easily. He’d changed here, becoming more the man he perhaps always wanted to be.

“What about Makai?”

I asked the question that had been hovering between us.

“If we stay...”

“We’ll need to talk to him.”

Hamish’s thumb traced circles on my palm.

“See if he wants the same things we do. If he’s willing to try something more permanent.”

I thought of Makai’s easy deflections whenever the future came up, his jokes and innuendos that steered conversations back to safer territory.

“He might not be ready for that.”

“We won’t know unless we ask.”

Hamish lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“But first, I think we need to go back to England and try to tie up a few of our loose ends. So he knows we’re serious. I don’t want to tell him we’ll move here and then find out we can’t stay.”