Chapter 36
The drive back to the lighthouse passed in near silence.
Julian stared out the passenger window, turning over everything Elara had told them while the quiet coastal town slipped past outside. His fingers curled around the empty vial pressed against his palm.
He still wasn’t sure why he’d trusted the strange woman enough to drink it. Maybe because she’d looked him dead in the eye and promised it was mercy. Or maybe because beneath the confusion and fear twisting through him, he’d known she was telling the truth.
The liquid had tasted of saltwater and something herbal he couldn’t identify. Nothing had happened afterward. No sudden memories. No visions. No dramatic shift in the world around him.
Just the same strange ache inside his chest.
Brett parked beside the cottage, and cool October air rushed over Julian the moment they stepped outside. Waves crashed against the rocks while the lighthouse beam swept across the darkness overhead in slow, steady intervals.
The front door had barely opened before a black streak shot across the floor.
Orion.
The feline wound around Brett’s boots before trotting toward Julian with his tail raised high. He bent to pet him, then froze. The white mark was on the cat’s right ear.
Julian’s hand hovered uselessly in midair while his pulse skipped.
“What?” Brett asked, shutting the door behind them.
He stared at the animal for another second before looking over his shoulder. “Okay… either I’m losing my mind, or that white mark keeps switching ears.”
A laugh escaped Brett—genuine and amused. “You’re not crazy.”
Straightening, he narrowed his eyes. “So it does move?”
“I thought there were two different cats at first. Then I put the collar on him and realized it was only him.”
As if aware he was being discussed, Orion blinked lazily up at them before sauntering deeper into the cottage like nothing about him was unusual.
Julian watched him disappear into the hallway. “I don’t even know why that surprises me—why anything surprises me at this point.”
Cool air lingered in the living room, the only heat coming from the potbelly stove glowing in the country kitchen. Brett crossed the room without a word, opened the small iron door, and added two split logs. A few sparks jumped as the fire caught again, spreading warmth through both rooms.
Julian shrugged out of his borrowed jacket, watching him.
The cottage felt different tonight. Smaller somehow. More intimate. Like everything Elara had told them had settled into the walls around them.
Or maybe it was just the way Brett kept looking at him now, as if something between them had clicked into place.
They sat on the couch facing each other, close enough that their knees brushed whenever either of them shifted. Soft light from the matching lamps on either side of the couch cast a warm glow across Brett’s face and caught in the russet highlights of his hair.
Julian picked at a loose thread on his jeans and exhaled. “Do you believe everything Elara said?”
“Yes.”
The conviction in the response made him glance up.
Brett leaned forward, his forearm braced on the back of the couch. “Do you?”
He almost said no on instinct, but the lie stalled in his throat. Instead, he stared at a knot in the wooden trunk while the old cottage creaked around them.
“I don’t know why.” Abandoning the thread, he sighed. “But… yeah. I do.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.
“And honestly? Since I woke up this morning…” He shook his head once, frustrated with himself. “I’ve felt this weird pull toward you. Like I know you somehow.” His gaze lifted to Brett’s again. “Like I belong with you.”
Something shifted in Brett’s expression. “I’ve felt the same since last night.”
His heart squeezed at the admission.
Neither of them moved for several long seconds. Then, before he could lose his nerve, Julian lifted a hesitant hand and pressed his open palm against the center of Brett’s chest over his heart.
Warmth exploded through him.
Not heat. Memory.
Images crashed into him so fast they stole his breath away.
Brett laughing while standing ankle-deep in ocean waves. Watching sunrises from the top of the lighthouse. Dancing together in the kitchen while a storm raged outside. Arguments. Makeup kisses. Lazy mornings wrapped together beneath blankets, ignoring the world outside.
Love. So much love that his chest almost burst with it.
He gasped, his fingers curling against Brett’s shirt as emotion overwhelmed him.
Then, lips brushed his.
For one disoriented second, he thought it was another memory, but the kiss was real. The mouth moving against his belonged to the man sitting in front of him now. The love of his life.
Julian’s eyes closed as Brett kissed him again, a gentle, hesitant touch as if Brett feared Julian would disappear if he moved too fast.
A soft gasp escaped him when rough evening scruff brushed against his own.
Brett tasted of steak, lemon, and gin, warm and achingly familiar in a way Julian couldn’t explain.
His hands slid over Brett’s shoulders, one settling at his nape while the other threaded into his hair.
Brett gripped Julian’s waist with restrained desperation.
The kiss lingered and lengthened, neither of them rushing it despite the hunger building between them. Julian could feel Brett’s uneven breathing against his mouth. Hear the quiet sounds slipping from him every time their lips parted before crashing together again.
Memories surfaced between kisses and touches.
Shore fishing at sunset with tangled lines and icy fingers. Wandering hand in hand through town during summer festivals and crowded farmers’ markets. Riding beside Brett in a blue ’68 Impala with the windows down and music blasting through the warm night air.
Different decades.
Different clothes.
Different versions of Driftwood Pointe.
But always them—together.
A broken moan caught in his throat.
Brett answered with a rough sound of his own before kissing him harder, one hand sliding into Julian’s hair while the other spread across his back, pulling him closer until there wasn’t space left between them.
Julian’s pulse hammered with wild abandon.
Every touch.
Every breath.
Every kiss felt like coming home.
He pulled back just enough to stare into Brett’s eyes. “I remember.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “Everything.”
Something raw flashed across Brett’s face. “I do too.” His thumb brushed along Julian’s jaw. “The tides are showing me all of it. Us. In love.”
Myriad emotions crashed through Julian so hard they almost stole the air from his lungs.
Then Brett kissed him again, and this time neither of them held back.
The kiss intensified almost immediately. Months, years, decades of longing poured into it at once until breathing became difficult and the need for more overwhelmed everything else. Brett pulled away first, rising to his feet while both of them fought for air.
Then he held out his hand, and Julian took it without hesitation.
In a silence humming with need, Brett led him down the short hallway toward the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing away the rest of the world.
Hands wandered slowly beneath shirts while mouths met again and again in lingering kisses.
Julian pushed Brett’s flannel from his shoulders while Brett’s shaky fingers worked at the buttons of Julian’s shirt.
Clothes gradually disappeared piece by piece, dropped forgotten onto the floor between touches, kisses, and quiet sounds that neither man seemed capable of holding back any longer.
Despite the chill lingering in the bedroom, Julian’s body was on fire.
His hands roamed over Brett’s bare skin, rediscovering every inch of him through touch as Brett’s mouth moved against his, leaving him dizzy and aching for more.
The man was intoxicating. They’d always burned this hot together. Whatever existed between them had survived time, memory, and even the ocean itself.
Brett let out a low groan before guiding him slowly toward the bed until the backs of Julian’s knees hit the mattress.
A second later, Brett eased him down onto the bed and followed him, bracing himself above Julian while kissing him with hungry desperation.
They reveled in each other’s taste as their bodies rubbed together. Julian’s cock was as hard as the granite the ocean beat against outside the window. It wept with need as he thrust upward against Brett’s groin.
Leaving Julian’s mouth, Brett kissed his way down his lover’s jawline, neck, and chest. Every lick, nip, and brush of lips against his skin sent jolts of electricity coursing through his body.
Brett wrapped his calloused hand around Julian’s shaft, slowly pumping it as he sucked one of his nipples. Julian moaned. His eyelids slammed shut, and he squirmed under the sensual ministrations.
The room spun as words flowed from his mouth, but he had no idea what they were—curses, pleas, or prayers.
As Brett continued lower, Julian’s abdominal muscles quivered beneath his mouth.
He thrust one hand into Brett’s hair, holding him close, while the other clenched the sheets.
When Brett’s lips parted and sucked Julian’s cock into his mouth, a cry of intense pleasure ripped from Julian’s lungs. “Oh! Yes! Please, don’t stop! Please!”
Brett pulled back just enough to say, “Never, my love. We have a lot of lost time to make up.” Then he went to work destroying Julian in the best way possible.
Writhing on the bed, Julian arched his back and lost himself to the sensations flooding through him. Brett’s mouth was an inferno as it engulfed his cock, taking him to the edge before slowing down, then speeding up again.