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In the glow of the golden morning light, that strong, stern jaw is accentuated. It’s made even sexier by the stubble he’s let grow the last few days.
Handsome. He’s so handsome. So calming. He is like the best soft sweater on a rainy day.
Ash’s lips turn up and her stomach flips.
That heart in her chest.
It’s slipping away.
Last night, she let him see the most private, sad parts of her. And it didn’t feel so bad. It felt…beautiful, actually.
He made her feel safe. Understood. Heard.
Nathaniel Whitford likes the weird. Her weird. The good and the bad about her. The thought causes her heart to lurch so violently she places a hand to her chest.
After Jakob, she believed she’d never have anyone else. Find anyone who truly saw her. She never thought she’d want to try again.
And maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she just wants it with Nathaniel. Maybe he is that little invisible string, that universal gotcha, that man she never saw coming.
“Voyeurism isn’t your strong suit, Bigfoot.”
She scowls. He’s caught her in the act of lurking.
But then he turns. A lopsided grin splits his lips. Her heart turns to a firefly in her chest. All warm and glowing and hopeful.
Behind him, the sky is indigo and without clouds. It stretches the horizon. Endless. It’s how Ash feels. How she feels about Nathaniel.
She could go on and on and on.
“Secretly ogling you is my new kink,” she says. “You just have to deal with it.”
“Fair enough. How’s Tessie?” he asks, his eyes full of genuine concern.
Ash strides toward him. “She is being bossed around by a very brawny mountain man, so I think she’s in the mid-to-late stages of being frustratingly horny.”
He chuckles. Traces the strap of her bikini with those long fingers. Heating her. “Glad to hear it.”
She tips her face up. Grasps the front of his shirt. Holding tight. “I almost flew to Alaska,” she admits.
His throat works, over and over. Then he says, “I would have fueled up the jet.”
Her entire body sparks with warmth. Nathaniel’s willingness to move mountains to make sure she could get back to her best friend has Ash melting. If she thought her heart had cracked before, now it’s wide open.
Nathaniel pulls her against him. Their hearts hammer in sync. “I’m glad you didn’t go.” He chuckles, then lets out a relieved sigh. “You’re the best thing on this trip. I would have missed you.”
“I would have missed you too.” She wants to be angry with herself for this lapse, for this softness, but it’s impossible. It’s getting easier. To drop her guard. To say what she means.
Eyes turning molten, he angles her toward his mouth. Kisses her. Ash rakes her fingers through his disheveled hair and drinks him in.
He tastes like coffee and sunlight and the sea. He runs his tongue over hers, and his enormous paw of a hand skims the curve of her hip. Ash moans. God, just the man’s hand is an entire love language.
When they untangle, he wraps his arms around her. For a long moment, they’re quiet, watching the horizon.
“You know,” she says. “When I was younger, I was sure I’d have to worry a lot more about the Bermuda triangle and Atlantis.”
“The ’90s let down a whole generation,” he says.
She leans forward over the railing, squinting at the ocean beneath them. Her heart bottoms out when Nathaniel grasps the waistband of her shorts. Steadying her. Protecting her.
