Chapter 21
The clicking sound of the camera jostled Chloe out of her sleep.What is he doing?
She fought the urge to laugh, covered her face with a pillow. “Did you snap pics of me while I was asleep, Dylan Hawke?”
He sat at the foot of the bed, snapped a few more photos, even though she now pulled the pillow over her head. “Yup.” He laid the camera beside him on the bed. “I couldn’t resist your beautiful face.”
She chuckled, threw the pillow at him. “When I said you shouldn’t give up photography, I didn’t mean for you to take photos of me.”
“Well, I had to begin somewhere.” He winked, then tickled her foot. “The storm’s over and I thought I’d head back home, get some shots of the sky over the water. Can I borrow the Prius? I’ll be back to get you in about an hour.”
Chloe sat up, rubbed her eyes. “Can I come with you? I’d love to watch you in action.”
The two got dressed, packed up, then said their goodbyes to Samantha and Liam who were still acting as though they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“Leave the shop closed until tomorrow, Sam. Take the day off to rest…or whatever it is you and Liam do. I’m sure with the storm passing, everyone will be busy cleaning up anyway.”
Samantha nodded, tied her robe closed as she stood beside Liam on the porch, seeing them off.
“Thanks again for having me,” Chloe said, hugging Samantha, then Liam. “You two are lovely and inspiring. I’m certain, parts of your story will no doubt end up in my book, one way or another.”
Samantha squealed and Chloe could have sworn Liam did too. “Feel free to use our real names,” Samantha called out as Chloe scrambled to the car.
As Dylan drove back to his house by the bay, Chloe peered out the window, taking in the aftermath of the storm. Fallen trees. Fallen trash cans. Scattered debris. Just a few things he navigated by on the road leading up to Main Street. The usual lively town seemed wounded by Amelia, down for the count, with not one person in sight. “Where is everyone?”
“Some may have left. Others may be home, getting ready to clear out any damage left by Amelia.” He squeezed her hand, glanced over, his eyes, his voice reassuring. “I’m glad it wasn’t as bad or as long as expected.”
Chloe was glad too, even more that they were able to ride the short storm out together, the memory of last night sending a surge of warm and fuzzies to her heart. Who would have thought she’d develop strong feelings for a man who named his sexy motorcycle, Tamale, of all things?
They drove by Destiny’s Brew, noticed everything was still intact, then continued on to the house, and as they approached, Dylan let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. It’s still standing.”
Chloe sighed in relief too, because even though it had been less than a week, it very much felt like home.
“Come on, Miss Davenport, let’s get some pictures.”
The view of the ocean, contrasted by the sunlit horizon, poking through a wall of clouds, was sublime to Chloe’s eyes—never having seen either after a mighty storm. And as she stood by him on the sand, she couldn’t think of anyone better to experience it with. “It’s breathtaking, Dylan.”
Hewas breathtaking. Watching him snap photos, the man was on fire, all smiles, as if he’d just been granted the chance to turn over a new leaf. Perhaps she had, too. Taking risks, like asking to sleep with a man she’d known for only a few days, and falling asleep in his arms, as though she’d known him forever. Fact was, Dylan Hawke gave her more than anyone named Walter ever could have. Comfort. Security. An appetite for more. True they’d slept most of the night—him holding her close—yet their innocent smooch good-night, transformed into a lengthy make-out session of the century. Soft kisses became sensual, hot, passionate, and when he pressed his muscle-ripped body on top of hers, Chloe thought for sure she’d toss out her Personal Protection Plan, let it get washed away with the storm. It was Dylan, however, who kept them on track, a husky whisper in her ear, “Miss Davenport, we’d better slow down before our made-for-TV kiss turns into a full-fledged Fifty Shades of naughty.” The recollection made her giggle, her heart leap as if she were lost in that moment again. Dylan was more of a gentleman than she’d imagined…he was the type of man she dreamed of growing old with. The realization had Chloe wondering if deciding to come to Fortune’s Bay to write her next book had everything to do with her discovering her own destiny.Don’t be silly, Chloe. She was hard on herself, unwilling to accept she could have possibly found someone dreamier than a made-up hero who existed only in her books.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Chloe was so far off into la-la land, she didn’t realize Dylan had been taking photos of her.
Her face flushed as he drew near. “Oh, I’m sorry…I was just thinking about my novel.” A novel she had only weeks left to write.
“How about I make you some breakfast, then you head to your place and write. I may take Tamale out for a ride, get more photos.”
The thought of them parting, even for a few hours, gave her an empty feeling in the pit of her hungry-for-breakfast stomach. “How about we prepare breakfast together, then I join you for that ride?”
He pulled her into his arms, brushed her lips with his. “You read my mind.”
Hours later,Chloe could sense the sarcasm seething from Libby’s voice.
“Did you survive the tropical storm?”
She hadn’t been back in her apartment for thirty minutes before her editor called with questions. As usual, Chloe rolled her eyes as she breathed a sigh into the phone. “Obviously. I’ve answered my phone, right?”
“Uh, yeah. So, how’s the novel coming along? Have you been busy hitting the keys?”
Not really. The words Chloe had poured onto the page last night were the first since the draft of chapter one. And because she’d spent the entire day outdoors with Dylan, she hadn’t contributed a single word more. “It’s coming along just fine. I was able to find some inspiration. The town is full of such vibrant people and Dylan took me around town today—”
