Chapter 16 #3
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted in an appreciative smile. “They’re not true fans.”
He wanted to argue, to list the names he’d seen in her comments for years, but the tiny divot creasing her forehead hinted she didn’t need debate.
“Come on,” she said suddenly, scooting out from the bench. “Let’s go outside. This lighting is perfect.”
She fished her phone from her purse.
“One second,” he said, pushing to his feet. The cabin rocked, and he braced a palm on the table. He ducked his head into the galley. “Shauna, can you hold off on dessert? We’re going to go out on the deck and watch the sunset.”
“You bet.” Shauna smiled over a steaming carafe. “Enjoy.”
A minute later he slid the cabin door shut behind them, the latch clicking home.
The temperature had dropped a few degrees on the aft deck.
Wind whipped their hair, and the air tasted like salt.
Diesel engines purred in a gentle, confident rhythm, churning a frothy wake.
The sun pooled at the sawtooth edge of the mountains, like a coin balanced on a rim.
“Wow,” Scottie breathed, moving to the rail. “This is perfect.”
You are perfect.
He fought the tug to press his mouth to the soft place where her jaw met her neck. He took his place beside her instead, a respectable inch’s worth of space between them. The wind teased a curl at her temple. She tucked it back and lifted her phone.
“Here, let’s take a selfie.”
“No.”
“Yes, come on. Lainey and the girls made me promise I’d take one.”
“Seriously?”
She smiled, tilting the phone, their faces framed by water and sky. “Oh, this is great. Smile.”
Impulsively, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. He felt her quick intake of breath. Her perfume—something light and citrus—cut through the salt. He didn’t want to pull away.
She lowered her arm and turned to him, eyes bright. “Wow. Spontaneous. I like it.”
She slid her phone into the side pocket of his jacket without looking, then hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him closer. The move was unapologetic, and it lit a fuse in his spine.
“Scottie, I adore you,” he said, truth and heat braided in his voice. “You know that, right?”
Her gaze dipped to his mouth and back. She wrapped her arms around his waist, fingers finding the small hollow at the base of his back like she’d known it was there all along. “Tell me more,” she whispered, tilting her chin up.
“In a second. Can I kiss you first?”
“Please do.”
He bent, intending to be careful, to coast. Then the world narrowed—the give of her mouth, the soft hum she made, the way her hands lifted to the back of his neck. He slid his hands into her curls, palms warm against her scalp, and kissed her like he had all the time in the world.
She tasted of marinara and garlic and something unmistakably her. Maybe he’d been wrong about the future. Maybe a life with Scottie didn’t have to include staying in Redemption.
Because right now, he’d follow this woman anywhere.
The breeze curved around them, playing with the hem of her cardigan. The engines’ hum faded into the background. A gull called, insolent. Somewhere above, Rex steered them among half a dozen icebergs floating in the bay.
A soft thunk sounded off the starboard side.
Scottie broke the kiss, breathless, laughing. “What was?—”
“Rex must’ve bumped one of the smaller chunks of ice. We’re not far from Townsend Glacier.”
“Look.” Leaning over the railing, she pointed at a whiskered head bobbing off the stern, glossy and inquisitive. The seal blinked, then snorted. Two more seals floated on the icebergs nearby, their dark eyes peering at them.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered, clutching his sleeve. “Sir, can we help you?”
The seal snorted again, unimpressed by human romance, then dove with a flip of its tail, leaving a V of ripples that caught the last of the light.
Tate laughed, forehead resting against hers. “Tough crowd.”
“Harsh critic,” she agreed, still grinning. She pressed her palms against his chest as if she could put the moment back exactly where it had been.
Covering her hands with his, he drew back just enough to see her face. “You said you like attention,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I can compete with the adorable wildlife.”
“You’re doing fine,” she said.
The cabin door slid open a crack, warm light spilling onto the deck. “Dessert’s ready when you are,” Shauna called, voice apologetic and cheerful at once.
“We’ll be right in,” Tate answered.
Scottie’s thumb stroked along his jaw, the gesture tender as a promise. “I like this version of you,” she said. “The pastel-shirt-wearing guy who puts his worries aside and kisses me senseless.”
“And I like all versions of you,” he whispered, before brushing another kiss across her lips.
She laughed, eyes shining. “Thank you. I hope you also like the version of me who hates to skip dessert.”
“Of course I do.” He offered his arm. She slid her hand through, and together they stepped back into the warm cabin, where coffee and chocolate chip cheesecake welcomed them.