Chapter 7
KAI
Iled Jasmine down the short hallway, stopping in front of a closed door.
“This is the spare room. It’s a work in progress since my brother just moved out last month.
” I pushed the door open to reveal a mess of plastic totes and clothes that looked like they’d been dropped mid-move.
The faint smell of dirty clothes and cologne lingered, the air carrying a ghost of Reef’s presence, like he'd never left. "I’m going to make it an office eventually, if he ever gets all his stuff out of here.”
“Did he move out to live with the detective?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, that’s Coulter. His girlfriend, Faith, is the detective.
Reef is the one who moved onto my brother Trevor’s houseboat when Trevor upgraded to a bigger place with his new wife, before their baby comes.
The houseboat’s at the marina, close to my dad’s house.
Reef moved over there to keep him company after Trevor left. ”
“Wow, that’s a lot of brothers.” She blinked, like she was already trying to memorize the names. Her tone carried both admiration and disbelief, as though she couldn’t quite picture growing up in such a crowded household.
“Yeah, five boys total,” I said with a grin. “Plus Ava.”
Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, your mom had six kids? After two girls, my mom wasn’t willing to test the odds for another shot at a boy.”
“Yeah. My mom used to joke with Trevor that none of us was really planned, but he was the only shock. After they finally got the girl, they thought they were done. But the next year, there he was.”
“Sounds like a close-knit family. It’s great that your brother can be there for your dad. The short commute to work must be a big bonus.” A smile tugged at her pretty little lips, which did wonders for my anxiety. The dopamine dose made me want to do anything and everything to keep her smiling.
“So is living alone.” I lifted my beer, arching my brows. “Reef and I shared a room—in bunk beds—until we were twenty. This is a whole new life phase.”
The words came out with forced humor, but deep down I still felt the relief of having four walls to myself after years of no privacy. I closed the door and motioned for her to follow me out to the patio.
The humid night wrapped around us the second I slid the door open. Thick with salt and cut grass, the air clung to my skin. Jasmine followed me out onto the paver stones, her steps light, careful, like she wasn’t sure if she was intruding.
The faint chorus of tree frogs and distant lapping of water added a rhythm beneath the silence.
We settled into the Adirondack chairs, the old wood cool beneath me. She tucked her legs up, her beer can balanced on her knee. I stretched out, pretending I was relaxed, but every nerve in my body was tuned to her.
“Thank goodness your brother wasn’t here when the visitors arrived earlier,” Jasmine said quietly.
A chill washed over me. The thought of anyone else being caught up in this nightmare made me nauseous. “No kidding. Apparently moving to a houseboat was the safer option,” I answered, bowing my head and shaking it once in regret.
The guilt had been clawing at me since the moment those bastards stormed my house. I’d been the one to haul in that bale. My problem. And now she was tangled in it—collateral damage. Every time I pictured the guns trained on her face, bile rose in my throat.
Her voice softened. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t deserve this.”
“Thank you,” I said, though she deserved it even less. “That’s the irony of it, really. Having to deal with this bullshit because I was forced to do the ‘right’ thing. This is exactly why we don’t ruffle smugglers’ feathers. It’s the reason for the code.”
“There’s a code?” she asked, head cocked. “What’s in it?”
I gave a little shrug. “It’s more of a mutual understanding. We don’t bother them; they don’t bother us. Everybody’s got their hustle.” In the Keys, unspoken rules carved out by decades of survival on these waters were stronger than written law.
“You have a legitimate business. They’re smuggling cocaine. Pretty sure there’s no comparison.”
“I have no interest in being anyone’s moral police,” I said, my voice tightening. “I’m just trying to live my life to its fullest every day. That’s why we have to leave this hostage trauma behind us, right now.”
Her brow creased, and she studied me like I was crazy. “How do you propose we do that?”
The question hit harder than it should have. She was right—barely an hour ago we’d been tied up on my couch with guns in our faces. The weight of the memory pressed down, sour and heavy, but I shoved it aside.
“Well, we're still here, alive and well. The scary smugglers are gone. They took their negative energy with them. So we can let it go, because it’s already gone. All we have is now. And the reason we came here tonight—to know one another. Connection.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t answer. I could see it in her eyes though: she didn’t know how to feel anything but afraid. The storm she’d endured still rattled behind her gaze, but beneath it I caught sparks of something else—something alive.
I locked her gaze. “Don’t let those assholes steal your fire. I won’t let them hurt you. I promise.”
She stared back with eyes eager to believe. She wasn't yet relaxed, but the fear seemed to have loosened its grip on her. Looking out over the lawn, she let out a laugh. The yard was a mess—ropes, tennis balls, and what was left of a squeaky duck scattered across the grass.
“Tell me about your dogs,” she said, shifting to a lighter topic.
“Two labs,” I said, my chest loosening just at the thought. “One yellow, one chocolate. We decided to keep them together after Reef moved out, so they spend more of the time here since I have the yard. But they like the marina and time with their granddad too.”
Her smile was small but real. “That's sweet." She lifted her Coors Light in a mock toast. “Not exactly how I pictured spending an evening with you.”
“Same.” I let out a short laugh, leaning forward in my chair to get closer. “Next time I’ll skip the armed intruders.”
A genuine laugh erupted from her, quick and bright, filling the night. The sound worked its way through me, easing something tight in my chest. For the first time since the invasion, I felt my lungs expand all the way.
Then the silence came—thick, humming, not awkward at all.
When she turned and caught me staring, I didn’t look away.
I couldn’t.
Her pupils were wide in the dim light, daring me to close the last inches between us. Lips parting, breath shallow, she didn’t fidget or glance away; she just held my gaze, steady, like she was daring me.
I set my beer down on the arm of the chair and leaned in, slow, giving her time to pull back. She didn’t. Her lashes fluttered once, and then her mouth was on mine.
Soft. Testing. Then she made a small sound in her throat, and suddenly we were both greedy.
She tasted sweet like honey, with a hint of beer and salt air. My hand slid to her jaw, thumb sweeping along her cheekbone, and she shivered beneath the touch. Her fingers curled into the back of my shirt, dragging me closer, until there wasn’t an inch between us.
“Crazy,” she whispered against my mouth.
“Yeah,” I growled, nipping her lower lip before kissing her deeper. “So am I, when it comes to you.”
Her laugh was breathless, shaky, but it shot through me like fire. I trailed kisses along her jaw, down to the pulse beating wild in her throat. She arched her neck, offering herself up, and the low sound that escaped me was more animal than man.
Heat pulsed through every nerve ending, a wildfire I couldn’t have extinguished if I tried.
She pulled away like she was coming up for air, her eyes blazing. “Let's go inside.”
I didn’t need telling twice.
The chairs scraped as I hauled her up to her feet, threading my fingers behind the small of her back.
For a second we just stood there, bodies pressed flush.
Her mouth found mine again with a hunger.
We stumbled through the slider, bumping into the frame, too tangled in each other to care.
The glass rattled in the tracks, but neither of us slowed.
Desire had its own gravity, pulling harder than reason ever could.
As I backed her against the kitchen counter, my hands found her hips, anchoring her there while my mouth ravaged hers. She tasted like heat and want, like every bad decision I’d ever gladly make twice.
Her nails dug into my shoulders, sharp little crescents that branded me as hers in that moment.
She gasped, fumbling at the hem of my shirt.
I took my time peeling it off, letting her eyes roam over my chest. Her lips parted when she dragged her nails lightly down my stomach. My cock throbbed at the look on her face—part awe, part desire.
The air between us crackled with need, a pulse I felt not just in my body but in the frantic beat of my heart.
We barely made it through my bedroom door before more clothes started flying off.
First her shirt, then her bra, and I couldn’t stop myself from bending, catching a nipple between my lips just to hear her gasp.
She arched against me, hands clumsy at the button of her jeans.
I helped, shoving them down over her hips, kissing her like I’d starve if I didn’t.
Her skin under my palms was warm and impossibly soft, and I wanted to map every inch before the night was over.
By the time I laid her back on the mattress, my lungs were burning, my body strung so tight it hurt.
I braced on one arm, forcing myself to pause.
She was flushed, eyes glassy, hair wild on my pillow.
The sight struck me--quite possibly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.
Her chest rose and fell in quick little bursts, her lips swollen from kissing, her expression a mix of trust and need that hit me harder than any bullet ever could.