Chapter Fifteen
When he returned to the house, KC pulled into the driveway with a plan in mind.
After more debating than he cared to admit, he’d picked out a large bouquet of mixed flowers, then decided to put together a picnic lunch for Maura.
Women liked thoughtful gestures like that—or so he told himself—and he was willing to try anything to get back on her good side.
After leaving the florist, he picked up fruit, crackers, pepperoni, and an assortment of cheeses from the food mart. Then he grabbed a bottle of merlot at the liquor store and headed home, feeling a little more hopeful about the day.
He carried everything inside and set it on the kitchen counter, then searched for a platter. Once the food was arranged, he brought it out to the porch, adding the spread to the table along with a vase of flowers.
Back inside, he headed down the hallway and stopped in front of Maura’s door. He hesitated, only for a moment, his earlier confidence slipping as doubt crept in, before knocking softly and waiting.
“Yes?” Her voice came through the door, quiet but steady.
“I made us some lunch. Are you hungry?”
Silence stretched for a moment. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she finally answered.
“Give me a minute to freshen up. I’ll be right out.”
They ate a quiet lunch, circling each other with careful conversation, sticking to the same safe topics they’d covered the first night after they met. It felt wrong—like they were pretending nothing had changed.
Like they hadn’t shared what they had the night before.
He’d hoped the flowers, the wine, and the effort he’d put into the meal would bring back even a fraction of that closeness, but Maura kept a polite distance between them. Every soft answer and every avoided glance drove him up the wall.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
Reaching across the table, he covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed slightly, confusion flickering across her face. “About what?”
“Last night.”
She dropped her gaze to her lap, color rising in her cheeks. “I… I told you I wasn’t that good at it.”
For a moment, he stared at her, caught off guard, then shook his head. “No! That’s not what I meant.” Extending his other hand, he cradled her cheek. “Oh, honey, you were incredible. You absolutely blew my mind. Several times, in fact.”
Her blush deepened, and the memory of her in his arms the night before came rushing back, vivid enough to make his pulse pick up.
“Then what are you sorry about?”
“You’ve been quiet all day. Distant. I figured you were having second thoughts.” His thumb brushed lightly over her cheek. “If I moved too fast… I’m sorry.”
She leaned into his palm and looked him in the eye, letting him see the truth. “You didn’t. I wanted you. I just…” A moment of hesitation followed before she drew in a small breath. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
Her gaze drifted to the table, and he slid his hand down to cup her chin, lifting it until she faced him again. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really.” She gave a small shrug. “I’m just a little embarrassed. I don’t have much experience with men—especially someone like you—and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act.”
Something in his chest eased at her admission.
He rose and drew her to her feet with him, not giving her time to retreat into her thoughts. Bending, he brushed a soft kiss over her lips as his arms circled her waist.
Maura softened against him, and the simple trust in that small shift sent a rush of warmth through him.
“You don’t have to act or overthink things. Be natural—relax and enjoy yourself. No experience needed for that.” He grazed her lower lip, and she inhaled sharply. “I like that you’re a bit innocent, yet you respond to me.”
He kissed her again, slower this time, giving her a chance to follow his lead. When she did, he felt it all the way through him—her response, the way her body aligned with his, as if she belonged right where she was.
His hold on her tightened slightly, the reaction instinctive.
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss as the last of the tension eased out of her. The warmth of her against him sparked a sharper awareness, one he had no interest in fighting.
His lips didn’t leave hers as he swept her up into his arms and carried her inside and down the hallway. By the time they reached his bedroom, she was the only thing on his mind.
When her feet touched the floor, she didn’t pull away. If anything, she moved closer.
“You’re killing me,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Her soft laugh brushed against his skin. “Seems fair because I feel you’re doing the same to me.”
That was all it took.
Their mouths met again, and the kiss deepened, stealing what little restraint he had left. “Honey… I can’t go slow.”
“I don’t want slow.”
The words settled something in him.
He gathered her close, holding her as she clung to him, and let himself stop thinking and just feel.
They spent the remainder of the day and night in bed, leaving only when they had to. Time slipped by in a blur of quiet laughter, soft touches, and moments that felt far too easy for something that wasn’t supposed to last.
Moriah couldn’t get enough of him.
She’d known, even before he carried her into the beach house, that she had to walk away. That staying—even for a night—was a mistake she couldn’t afford. But once she was in his arms, she hadn’t been able to stop herself.
She hadn’t wanted to.
Now, a few minutes after midnight, she lay beside him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing as he slept. Careful not to wake him, she traced her fingers lightly over his chest, committing the feel of him to memory.
Everything between them had turned intense faster than she expected—consuming in a way she hadn’t been prepared for.
It had made her feel wanted. Safe. Seen.
And that was the problem, because it made leaving him that much harder.
She stilled her hand, her throat tightening as the truth settled in. This wasn’t just physical. It had never been, even though she’d tried to convince herself otherwise.
She turned her head slightly, studying his relaxed features in the dim light. He’d told her to be herself and not to overthink it. And for a few hours, she hadn’t, simply letting herself forget everything waiting for her outside the beach house.
Forget who she really was—a woman on the run from people who wanted her dead.
Sighing quietly, she rested her head against his shoulder, feeling his arm shift instinctively around her, even in sleep. The simple, unconscious gesture made her chest ache.
She couldn’t stay.
Maybe tomorrow she’d find a way to get him out of the house for a little while. It felt wrong—leaving without a word, without an explanation—but she didn’t see another option. If she stayed, her past would eventually catch up with her.
And if it did, it wouldn’t only be her life on the line. It was bad enough that KC would be there for another few weeks. What if the men chasing her found her while he was still there?
Her fingers curled slightly against him as that thought sent a shiver down her spine. She cared about him too much to take that risk. More than she should. More than she ever intended.
So she would leave.
For now, though, she let herself stay where she was, listening to his breathing, memorizing every small detail. These were the moments she would carry with her—the ones she’d hold onto when everything else fell apart.
No matter where she ended up, a part of her would always remain here.
With him.