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“It’s not your fault.” He doesn’t want her to blame herself. “My grandfather’s stubborn, and he’s also a grown-up. The sun down here gets most people.”
She studies him, her eyes swimming with worry, her full bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
“You did the right thing,” he says, wanting that worried lookoff her face. “Coming to get me. He’ll be okay. A lot of water, air-conditioning and rest.”
“Good,” she says, voice trembling. “Because it’ll only take me five to seven business days to recover.”
She looks toward the open balcony door where a warm breeze blows, but not before he sees a sheen in her eyes. Fuck.
Go. Walk out the door.
He doesn’t. The expression on her pretty face, so forlorn and lost, keeps him here. His legs won’t physically move. He doesn’t want her to be upset or sad. And he sure as hell doesn’t know what that says about him.
He eyes the bar. “Drink?”
“Running straight to whiskey as your main life hack?” Her eyes sparkle, clearer now. “Yes, please. I approve.”
He pours two fingers of amber liquid into a glass. Then another. Curling his hands around them both, he crosses the room. Once he’s lowered himself down beside her, he hands her one.
“Thank you,” she says, accepting it. She studies Augustus’s closed bedroom door. Lets out a long rush of breath. “I’m not ready. I’m really not ready for this.”
Surprise has his eyebrows lifting. “Isn’t this your job?” There’s no malice in it. Only a question. Curiosity.
“Yes.” Ash frowns, brows pinched. “But with everyone else, it was quick. Only weeks. But with your grandfather…” She trails off, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Earnest. Honest. There’s no con in her smile. She deeply cares for his grandfather. The thought sears something deep inside him.
“I’m going to stay,” he says.
That’s all it takes for her tense expression to change to relief.
“To monitor him,” he elaborates. “If that’s okay with you.”
She nods. “I would really appreciate it.” With that, she takes a long gulp of her whiskey and shivers. “Tastes like fire.”
He lifts the glass to his lips. “Feels like it too.”
They sit side by side, their hips, outer thighs touching.
“So.” Ash’s attention is heavy on him. “This rig of yours. Is it dangerous?”
“It can be.”
She tilts her chin. “I read about what you do for work.”
He lets out a small chuckle. “Stalking me? Fits the pattern.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I like danger. It’s—”
She gasps. A mischievous smile curls her lips. “It’s your middle name, isn’t it?”
He rolls his eyes. “You looked it up?” Funny, how his heart beats double-time at the thought.
“I did. I now know more about water circulation and storm tides than I ever needed to.” Her eyes meet his. She arches a dark brow. “I read up on Byford Dolphin.”
A laugh escapes him. “Jesus. You picked the worst of the worst.”
“What can I say? I like my morbid facts.” Ash sips what’s left of her whiskey. Tilts her head, causing her long black hair to curl around her shoulders. “What’s it like?”
