Chapter 7 #2
“Yes. The Hideaway gives us steady income,” she replied. “And honestly, we probably all benefit from some distance and a fresh perspective after losing Mom. Eventually, I hope it becomes just our family home again, but I’m not in any hurry. As it stands, we can always block out time for ourselves.”
Did she realize that she had scooted closer to him as they talked?
Or maybe it was him inching toward her. Either way his focus was shot.
Every fiber of his being was locked on her.
Her long fingers were surely stronger than they looked.
He’d seen her work up close. What drew her attention fascinated him.
The way her gaze moved over the marsh. Over him.
The soft twilight seemed to add a layer of sultry mystery to an already unique woman.
The ocean air mingled with the citrus scent in her hair and he wanted to breathe her in.
For tonight, tomorrow, and possibly all the nights after.
Whoa. The wild acceleration of his thoughts had him backing up. He hadn’t been this into anyone since… Ever.
She tipped her head, her gaze warm and curious. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure you want to know the answer.”
She angled toward him—clearly an invitation. As if he could pull himself away. “I definitely do. And don’t you dare turn that question around on me.”
Again, he laughed and the tension edging so close to desperation eased back into a simmering desire that felt almost manageable. Her transparency deserved no less from him. “I’m thinking about kissing you,” he confessed. “Not sure it’s possible to think about anything else right this second.”
“You know what they say about great minds.” Her fingers traced over his hand on the railing. “I’d really like you to kiss me.”
He stared at their hands. She was fine-boned, but not fragile. Her hands did impressive things every day as she created art from items most folks considered trash. Forgetting all those life experience notes about rushing or being appropriate, he blurted, “I like you, Natalie. A lot.”
“It’s mutual, Trent.” Her lips curved. “A lot mutual.” Her tongue slicked her lips. “Are you going to kiss me or should I make the first move?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve made all the first moves,” he pointed out. “It’s my turn.”
That smile turned downright sultry. “Now you’re catching on.”
On the verge of another laugh, his lips landed softly on hers. Then, with a heavy beat of his heart, everything changed. He would’ve sworn a support dropped from under the boardwalk.
On a soft gasp, her lips parted and his tongue dipped inside. His first taste of her was a marvel that turned into a miracle as she reciprocated, her fingers moving into his hair, her grip undeniable as she fused her mouth to his.
Those strong fingers, her tender touch, drove him to a fever pitch. He gathered her close, stroking the length of her spine, and she arched closer still. She was a study in contrasts—long limbs, sweet soft skin, and a fiery kiss.
Hands cruising over her waist, following the tantalizing curves, he eased back. “We can’t stay out here.” Doing everything his imagination wanted to do out in public would be undoubtedly delightful, but it would ruin both of them.
Her head dropped to his chest and she gave a little snort. “No. Of course not. It’s a family place.”
He sputtered and choked on a laugh. “You make me laugh at the most inopportune times.”
“One of my many talents,” she teased.
“Thanks for sharing.” He cleared his throat. “I should drive you home.”
“I brought myself, remember?”
No, he’d forgotten. “It’s definitely moving way too fast to ask you to follow me to the Hideaway. It’s okay if you say no.”
“Was that meant to be an inside thought?”
“Probably. But since it’s out there…” He slipped an arm around her waist and they walked back toward the restaurant.
“No. I don’t think it’s too fast.” Her body moved in sync with his along the boardwalk.
“I’ve never been a big fan of self-control,” she admitted.
“Especially not for the sake of arbitrary social rules or public opinion.” She turned into him, smoothing her palms over his chest. “That said, I do need to go home. Tonight.”
He paused, making sure he wouldn’t beg. “I understand. And I also want to see you again.”
“Same.” Her gentle touch caressed a path up and down his arms. “Have you given the fire pit a try yet?”
“No, but I can build a really good fire.”
She fanned her face. “I’ll say.” Linking her hand with his, they continued around to the parking lot. “Why don’t we have a campfire date? Conveniently located at the Hideaway, of course.”
He grinned. “An excellent suggestion. Tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I was thinking the day after.”
“An exercise in patience?”
She licked her lips again. “Pretty sure no one ever died of anticipation.”
He toyed with her hair, smoothing it behind her ear. “The two of us might just find out,” he murmured.
She tossed her head back on a bright burst of laughter. All he could think about was discovering the taste of her, right where her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. At her car, she pressed up on her toes and gave him a kiss. Simple and chaste, it set him ablaze all over again.
“For the record, I have a commitment tomorrow night,” she said. “Not a date. But I am really looking forward to meeting you at the fire pit. Do you want me to bring anything?”
He shook his head, words were a struggle when all he wanted to do was hang on to her. One more kiss. One more laugh. One more minute.
This immediate, intense connection was unlike anything he’d experienced. “Does everyone get attached to you so quickly?” To hell with restraint. He couldn’t manage it.
“Not really, no.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Most people underestimate me. My fault for not correcting them, I guess.” Her fingertips trailed along his jaw. “Thank you for dinner, Trent. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” The rest of his night was trashed now. He opened her car door, leaned in as she situated herself behind the wheel. “For the record, I won’t be sleeping tonight.”
She paused, a gleam in her eyes. “Because of your work?”
“We can go with that.” He suspected any attempt on his part to explain the visions currently running through his head would overwhelm them both. “Text me when you get home?”
Her eyebrows arched. “Sure.”
He closed her door and stepped back, barely resisting the urge to follow her just to reassure himself that she was safe. Digging deep, he found a remnant of willpower and drove back over to the Hideaway instead.
And once there, he did pour all his restless energy into the work. She’d given him new names to consider. It probably wouldn’t matter, but he couldn’t stop searching for the break this case desperately needed.