Chapter Twenty-Seven When You Least Expect It #2
After eating, we wander through the fields, my fingers grazing the lavender as we walk. The lavender-scented air wraps around us.
Hayes pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of me just as I turn, laughing.
“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
He glances at the screen, then back at me. “You look . . . perfect. I had to capture it.”
I raise an eyebrow, but I can’t help but smile. “Okay, now I know you’re just trying to flatter me.”
His mouth lifts in a grin. “I have to admit, you’re different than I imagined . . .”
He smirks, looking so effortlessly smug, and I catch myself glancing at the way the sunlight hits his face. His jawline’s perfect, and his eyes—those damn eyes. They’re warm, like melted caramel, and they definitely do things to me that I can’t ignore.
But it’s not just his face. I can’t help but notice the way his body moves. It’s . . . well, distracting.
And then my mouth opens—and to my horror—words start coming out.
“I’ve decided that it’s weird that I’ve seen you naked twice . . .”
“Twice?” He blinks.
Or maybe once. I possibly imagined the second time, not that I’ll admit that to him.
“And we haven’t kissed . . .”
“You want to kiss me.” It’s not a question, and he doesn’t phrase it like one.
“No.” I hesitate. “Well, yes.”
His lips lift in a teasing half grin that makes my stomach tighten. But he doesn’t kiss me. He just keeps walking, slowly, leisurely beside me.
As the sun dips lower, we pack up and make a quick stop in a nearby village, browsing through market stalls filled with handmade soaps and lavender honey. Hayes buys me a small satchel of dried lavender, slipping it into my bag with a satisfied smile.
“Something to remember the day by,” he says.
Back at the yacht, Charles greets us with a knowing glance over his evening tea. “I take it you two managed not to burn down Provence?”
I laugh, dropping into a chair beside him. “Barely.”
Hayes moves across from us with a purposeful stride, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. As he takes a seat, his eyes flicker to mine, and there’s a charged silence between us, something deeper than the usual teasing.
“Might have to go back just to double-check,” he says, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. It’s the kind of look that makes me feel like he’s thinking about something else entirely.
Charles hums, clearly amused. “I’m sure you will.”
It’s been a few hours since we got back, and Charles is half asleep in his chair, eyes glazed over as he watches C-Span. I’m pretty sure he’s not even really watching it—just the white noise of politics keeping him company while the world passes by.
I yawn, stretching my arms above my head. The day’s been . . . a lot. But in a good way. It’s hard to put into words, but I feel something different. Something lighter. Something I didn’t expect.
“I think I’m going to turn in,” I announce, glancing over at Charles. He barely stirs, just grunts in acknowledgment.
I make my way to my room, running a hand through my hair, but just as I’m about to close the door, I hear it—a soft knock.
My heart skips a beat.
“Frankie?” Hayes’s voice, low and unmistakable, says from the other side.
I open the door, leaning against the frame. “Yeah?”
Without another word, he steps inside. The air around us shifts immediately, charged in a way that leaves me breathless before he even gets close.
He shuts the door and moves.
Before I can say anything else, his hand is on my waist, pulling me gently toward him. His mouth crashes into mine, hungry, insistent. I barely have time to register what’s happening before my back hits the door and Hayes is kissing me like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.
His lips are firm, but there’s something soft about it, too—something that makes my body go still for just a second before my mind catches up. It’s like the tension that’s been building between for months has just burst—an explosion I wasn’t prepared for but can’t pull away from.
I feel the heat of his body against mine, the pressure of his kiss, and suddenly, everything else in the world disappears. It all fades until it’s just Hayes and me, tangled in what I can confidently say is the best kiss I’ve ever had.
When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless, my heart pounding against my ribs. I blink, trying to get my bearings.
“So that was . . . fine. Totally normal. Nothing to overanalyze at all.”
His mouth quirks, clearly amused. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding too quickly. “Just needed to make sure I still have bones in my legs.”
He’s still standing too close—way too close—his breath warm against my skin.
“That’s how I’ve been feeling all day,” he murmurs, his voice low. Like a confession meant only for me.
I glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. There’s none. Just that same intensity, the same thing I saw earlier, that I’ve been trying to ignore since we met.
“Well,” I say, trying to shake off the haze of the kiss, “what are we supposed to do about that now?”
His fingers trace lightly down my arm, a grin tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. But I’m sure I can think of a thing or two.”
A low pulse of desire races through me.
“Frankie!” I hear Charles call from the other room.
Hayes lifts one eyebrow.
“Gotta go,” I say, still breathless.
Later that night, I slip into bed, the sheets cool against my skin, but my mind is anything but cool. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the mess in my head. What the hell happened today?
Hayes happened.
The guy I thought was an arrogant, entitled ass—who couldn’t be bothered to give anyone the time of day without it being in his best interest. The guy who made me want to slap him one minute and throw him in the ocean the next. That guy.
And yet, somehow, he’s been . . . different. More than I expected.
It’s weird, honestly. He’s not the guy I imagined.
At first, I thought he’d be the kind of guy who walks around with his nose in the air, thinking the world revolves around him.
But today, he was . . . well, different.
He arranged for me to have a day off. Took me off the boat.
He was charming. He actually listened when I talked.
He even seemed to care when I said something, instead of brushing me off like I was an inconvenience.
And the way he looked at me earlier . . .
The way he kissed me . . .
I roll onto my side, burying my face in the pillow. What the hell is wrong with me?
I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way.
It’s not that I’m attracted to him—well, okay, I’m definitely attracted to him. That’s a given. He’s not my type, but then again, my type has never worked for me anyway. But that’s not what’s messing with me.
What’s messing with me is how he’s . . . surprising me.
The way he wasn’t as full of himself as I thought. The way he actually made me laugh today. Several times, in fact. Hell, even the way he stared at me, like I was a puzzle he was dying to figure out. I thought I’d be irritated with him by now, but instead, I’m intrigued.
And then there’s that kiss . . .
I exhale sharply, remembering the strange zip of electricity between us when he grabbed my waist and hauled me in. How his lips felt, the warmth of his body pressing to mine. I hadn’t been expecting it, not at all. But now that it’s happened, I can’t stop thinking about it.
What does it all mean?
I let out a frustrated sigh and pull the blanket over my head.
I remember confiding in Tessa about my growing attraction.
She warned me not to do something rash—like sleep with him.
He’s my boss’s nephew . . . we’re stuck together in the middle of the ocean.
If it was weird, or bad . . . it would make things terribly awkward for me.
But there’s something different about him. Something that’s pulling me in. And that, more than anything, is what scares the hell out of me.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts.
One thing’s for sure: tomorrow, I’m going to need to put a little more space between myself and the ever-surprising Hayes Winters.
Because if I keep going down this rabbit hole, I might find myself lost—and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.