Page 29 of Chasing the Wolf (Dark Wing #7)

Mackenzie

Holding hands with my mate and strolling along a beach in Santorini isn't something I thought I'd be doing a month ago.

Santorini is beyond beautiful. Our dinner exceeded expectations. Which is saying something after the places Xavier took me to in Rome. There's a bar that spills out onto the sidewalk and down to the beach. There's a band playing and tons of people dancing.

"Want to go in? It's our second-to-last night," Xavier says to me.

"It's our last night, really. We need to leave for the airport early in the morning, so we’ll have to get packed the night before. And reality will have to kick in." We should talk about what we're going to do. Heck, I haven't even asked where our return tickets are to. Florida, Maine, or somewhere else. It's been nice to not think about it. "We should?—"

"Not yet, Mackie. Let's worry about that tomorrow." His amber eyes lock onto mine.

"Okay, tomorrow. I can do that. One more night."

"One more night."

We both turn to the bar and then back to each other.

"It looks like fun," I say, "but I'd rather just be with you." I reach up and kiss him. We sway to the beat as our lips crash together. We part, Xavier grabs my hand, and we race back to our suite. Well, not exactly race, as there are exactly 453 steps up to our hotel.

"You want me to carry you?" Xavier asks at step 185.

"Nope, I got this."

It's a testament to how much I want him because, even after 453 steps, I still do. More than ever. Even after three straight weeks of having him once or twice a day, I still want him.

I pull at his suit coat and toss it to the ground.

"Spin," he says in a low voice.

I do, and he unzips me and turns me back, pushing my dress to the floor.

W hen I wake, the sun has just started rising over the island behind our window, and the dappled light glows in our suite. My fingers trail down Xavier's. We leave tomorrow. But I haven't asked what our final destination is. In fact, we haven't talked about what we're going to do at all. Which is way more chill than I normally am. Shopping in Paris, eating in Rome, and now swimming in Greece. We've toured museums and ruins and stuffed ourselves. Talking about what's next? Yeah, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"You should know I'm starting to feel really comfortable with this whole vacation thing." I roll over, putting my head on Xavier's abs. My fingertips trace his muscles until he lets out a long sigh. "Also, I don't think you pay Riley enough."

"They would agree with you, but I do. I pay them a lot." Xavier lifts his head from the feather pillow. "That is some view."

There's a series of white-washed houses with bright blue roofs that go all the way down to the ocean.

"It is. I really love the ocean."

"I do too."

"Wait, I love the ocean when it's warm."

Xavier laughs. "What's not to like about York beach?"

I glare at him and steal his pillow and smack him with it.

"You really don't like Maine?"

"No, I do. But it's just not . . ."

"It's fine. It doesn't have to be your thing."

"I like the seasons, and I even like the first snowstorm, and maybe even the third one."

"I like snowstorm cake."

"I can make the cake without the snow."

"That's not what you used to say when we were cubs."

"You and Colton would have wanted it every week. It wouldn't have been special. You can't have something every day and keep thinking it's special."

"I don't know. I've had you every day for three weeks and I still think you're special."

"Ha ha. But seriously, we have to leave tomorrow."

"We do," he says, sounding a lot less disappointed than I am.

"Let's go snorkeling again today."

"That's a great idea. But first?—"

"Breakfast."

"Another great idea. But first..." He leans over the bed and pulls a manilla envelope from the nightstand.

"What's this?"

"It's what I picked up at the front desk last night."

"That's not answering my question."

"It's an idea. We don't have to go through with it, but it's an option."

"Options are good." I crack open the seal and pull out the paper. "It's a... deed?"

"Yup."

I flip through it, reading the parcel description. "To where?"

"The old watchmaker's shop next to Fiona and Callum's bar."

"Showroom," I correct him.

"Showroom." He's staring at me.

"Thank you?" I look back at the papers and then at him. "Why would I..." I sit bolt upright. “A coffee shop? You bought me a coffee shop?"

"I bought us a coffee shop."

"You don't know anything about coffee."

"Okay, I bought you a coffee shop."

"You bought us a coffee shop," I say slowly.

"Do you want to live on the island with Fiona?"

"You would live there? That's a silly question. You bought the land."

"Mac, if you don't want to live there, it's okay. I got a good deal, and it's a great investment."

"Wait, what? No, that would be perfect. I can see Fiona all the time and my other friends every once in a while. We'll need good fire insurance, though."

He laughs. "I've already got that. Callum assures me that Alistair will not burn our house down. But if he does, he'll rebuild it however we want. And yes, I got it in writing. Plus, when I do occasionally have to travel, I couldn't think of a better duo to keep you safe than Fiona and Callum."

"You're a good businessman and a fantastic mate."

"Most of the time, I make great decisions." He kisses my neck. "Now, do you want to go snorkeling?"

I bite my lip.

"Do you want to use my computer to look at espresso machines?"

"Maybe we can do both." I roll onto his chest and kiss him. "But first, something else." I wiggle my eyebrows at him.

T hanks for reading Mac and Xavier’s story.