Page 59 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

I nod quickly. “Thanks.” I can barely catch my breath, and I don’t even realize I’m staring at him until he clears his throat.

“I should probably get you home.”

He probably should. But I desperately want to stay.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

The walk back to the rental is mostly quiet. We take Bridge Lane out of town, even though the streets are pretty deserted at this point. But I’ll leap at any opportunity to see the moon reflected over the ocean, so I suggest the back way.

“Nice house,” Oliver says when we get to Beach Haven.

“Right?” I feel awkward now, the heat from his body radiating through the crisp night air, reminding me of the kiss we shared back at the dance hall. I’m met with the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him again. I try to shake it off.

“Beach Haven belongs to a friend of my late grandparents. He transitioned to a nursing home a few years back, but he hired a caretaker for the house.” I shift my purse on my shoulder. “Evidently she doesn’t do much cleaning, but we got a great price on the rental.”

Oliver laughs, offering his arm as we walk up the porch steps, which don’t have a handrail. “A little dusty inside?”

“You’ve no idea how much.” I accept his offer of help, and my stomach flip-flops at the contact. As soon as we’re on the porch, I quickly let go of his arm. I can’t let myself get swept up in this. Whatever this is.

“Well, thanks for a very…interesting evening,” I say, leaning against the front door.

Oliver smirks. “I’m starting to get the feeling it’s always a very interesting evening when you’re involved.”

My heart flutters like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. “Are you suggesting I’m very interesting?” I ask coyly.

His pupils are huge in the dark. “Something like that,” he breathes next to my cheek. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

My breath catches in my throat. I meet his gaze, pretty sure my eyes look just as inky as his do.

“Hey,” I whisper. My resolve to ignore the feelings swirling through my drunken brain is unraveling rapidly.

“Hmm?” His eyes drop to my mouth.

Okay, I definitely can’t breathe.

“I’m glad red polo guy was there tonight,” I finally manage.

He slides his hands onto my hips and presses against me, closing the space between us. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he murmurs against my neck, sweeping his lips along my cheek.

My hands find his shoulders. “You’re a good dancer,” I say through increasingly rapid breaths.

“So are you,” he replies, grazing my lips with his.

I moan a little into his mouth without meaning to. That seems to encourage him, because he pushes me up against the door and slips his tongue into my mouth.

I kiss him back, running my fingers through his hair. He’s sliding his fingers along the hem of my dress, then skimming up my waist over the fabric. I can feel him harden against my thigh, and it makes me long to invite him inside, to see where the night could go.

But Kyle’s face flashes through my mind, the worst kind of poorly timed intrusive thought. The truth settles like lead in my chest. I can’t get involved with someone at work again. Thanks to Kyle, I don’t even know if I want to return to my high-paying, tenured job.

God, if I slept with Oliver, how awkward might things get at the bookstore? That dalliance would almost certainly implode, because we actually can’t stand each other. Today was just a fluke.

Even worse, what if Maisie found out? I like her too much to risk the humiliation and judgment that would surely follow.

Would I even want to come back to this place that I love so much if it became tainted by memories of a hookup-gone-wrong?

“Oliver,” I murmur against his skin. “We can’t do this.” I shake my head and push him backwards, away from me. The night air feels cold in the void he’s left behind.

He raises a brow in amusement. “Do what?”