Page 25 of Storm Warning
Kate paused when she spotted a tall figure standing near the water, hands in his pockets, posture rigid. For an instant, she considered turning back, her pulse quickening with uncertainty, but something—curiosity, loneliness, something unnamed—restarted her feet.
Nick turned, and even in the dimming light, she saw the moment he recognized her; the faint easing of his expression,the relaxing of his guard. Warmth bloomed, unexpected and welcome.
“Couldn’t settle?” His raspy voice sounded clipped, careful, but underneath she heard something raw.
“Something like that,” she admitted, moving toward him, her feet leaving shallow impressions in the damp sand. “You?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I find it difficult to unwind some evenings.”
They started walking without discussing it, falling into rhythm along the water’s edge, the water playing with their toes, still warm from the day’s sun. The salt air filled Kate’s lungs, clean and sharp, cutting through the fog that invaded her thoughts.
After a while, she said gingerly, voice swallowed by the shush of waves, “Does this place ever seem… too much?”
Nick glanced at her, his brows lifting, surprise flickering across his features. “Frequently.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the resort lights beginning to glow in the distance like earthbound stars, “but I feel like I’m visiting someone else’s life. Like I’m trespassing.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the only sounds the rhythmic crash of surf and the cry of a gull overhead, before he blew out an audible breath. “I can understand that perspective. It took me some time to reconcile the reality of what we built with the perception others have of it.”
With a tilt of her head, she peeked over at him, catching the way the dying light carved shadows beneath his cheekbones. “You mean the resort?”
Nick nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon where sea met sky in a darkening line. “Yes. People assume I inherited it, that it was merely a matter of paperwork and signatures. But my parents destroyed—” He stopped abruptly, jaw clenching. “Theywere useless socialites that flitted from one party to another. My brothers and I built it from the ground up: our idea, our plan. We constructed this place brick by brick, betting everything on it.”
Kate’s eyes widened, and her steps slowed to a halt, sand shifting beneath her weight, before she started up again. “You built all of this? But you’re so young!” The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
His mouth curved in a sardonic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We did. Not as glamorous as it appears, I assure you. It took a lot of hard work and stubborn determination.” The last words came out tight, laden with memories.
The waves whispered over the sand as Kate struggled to process what it must have taken to build something like this—the sleepless nights, the fear of failure, the weight of responsibility that must have settled on shoulders barely out of adolescence.
She stopped. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d feel that way.”
He paused and met her gaze, eyes direct, warm despite the growing darkness. “You mean because I appear to have everything figured out?”
Heat crept across her skin, then she gave a sheepish nod.
Another wry smile curved his mouth, and he stared back out at the water, now nearly black except where moonlight caught the crests. “I’ve always excelled at making things appear easy. Doesn’t mean they are.” His tired tone implied he’d grown used to hiding how much it cost him, the price paid in pieces of himself.
The breeze stirred her hair against her cheek, the strands tickling her skin. She tucked it behind her ear, studying him in the softening dark, tracing the line of his profile, the tension still held in his shoulders. “You’re different from what I expected.”
“Oh?” He glanced back at her, something vulnerable flickering in his expression. “What did you expect?”
Heat crept up her neck, prickling across her collarbone, but she kept her eyes on his. “Someone… more arrogant. More entitled, perhaps. Less real.” Less human.
He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound almost lost in the wind. “Fair enough.”
They began walking again, their arms occasionally brushing, sending a tingle through Kate that traveled up her shoulder and settled somewhere near her heart, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked, unable to resist her curiosity, though her voice came out smaller than intended.
“Of course.” His tone softened, invitation in the simple phrase.
“What would you be doing if you hadn’t built… all this?”
Nick's hands flexed at his sides, fingers curling then releasing. “I’ve never given it much thought. Perhaps I would have opened a restaurant, or a B&B, somewhere unremarkable, where expectations are minimal. Hospitality has always drawn me.” A wistfulness colored his words, as though he described a dream glimpsed but never pursued.
She smiled a little at the idea, warmth spreading through her chest. “I can understand that.”
He studied her with an intensity that started her heart thumping, the sound loud in her ears. “And you? If you hadn’t pursued writing? If you’d been able to finish college?”