“You’re a blabbermouth,” I scold Ryder, sliding the phone—slowly, ever so slowly—into his pants pocket. It’s delicious torture.
“True.” He catches my hand and pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Some things are too good to keep secret.”}
After Ryder grabsa pair of shorts from his car, we head out for our walk, strolling hand in hand along the water’s edge as the tide splashes over our toes, the foam curling around our ankles. The beach is mostly empty, save for a few off-leash dogs romping wildly through the surf, their owners trailing leisurely behind. It’s an idyllic Seafolly sunset, the sky streaked in shades of pink and periwinkle. Pelicans coast over the cresting waves in an uneven V, their outstretched wings kissing the white caps. A breeze moves through the dune grass just beyond the shore, rustling soft as a lullaby.
But despite the serenity of our surroundings, it doesn’t take long for my nerves to get the better of me. “So what will this look like?”
He glances at me sidelong, the wind ruffling his hair, the tips at his nape curling up in the salty air. “What do you want it to look like?”
“I just mean, I don’t live here.”
“Youcouldlive here.”
I make a face. “Come on, I’m being serious. This is about to be the most intense year of my life.The Ingenueis scheduledto be a five-month shoot, and that’sifeverything goes as planned. We’ll be in so many different locations all over Europe, I won’t even know what time zone I’m in. And then there’s postproduction. It’s just a lot. And if you recall, being separated didn’t work out that well for us the first time.” Acid builds in my stomach at the memory of how quickly the distance broke us before, how foolish I’d been to believe our three-week rule would be the thing to save us.
“You seem to have forgotten that I’m retired,” he says, wagging his brows playfully. “I can go anywhere, do anything. I can follow you around Europe. I can be your personal umbrella holder,” he jokes.
“But what about your life here?” I counter, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. “You just got finished telling me how happy you are here. You came to Seafolly because you wanted to put down roots, be in one place for a while.”
“No, I came to Seafolly because I wanted to reevaluate my life and figure out what my next phase looked like. I was tired of running away from things. I’m ready to run toward something.” He eases me to a stop, eyes sparkling as he bends to kiss me. “Or someone.”
I stare at him as he pulls back, my feet sinking into the wet sand like mini suction cups. “You’re serious. You’d come with me overseas? Just like that?”
“You make it sound like a Mediterranean tour is some big sacrifice,” he says with a look like he’s amused by me. “Remember I told you I’m trying to find something to develop? That mostly involves reading a lot of books. I can do that from anywhere.”
“And then what?” I press, still searching for the crack in thefoundation that will surely lead to our demise. “What happens when you’re ready to film? Do we trade off?”
He considers that. “Sure, if that’s how you want to handle it. But honestly, I’m not all that worried about it. I think we could handle a separation better than we could before, don’t you?”
Do I?I blink at him, not sure what I think. I think I’m terrified—of letting my guard down, of putting my heart in his hands again, of history repeating itself.Of losing him all over again.
It’s like he can read my thoughts. He twists one of my rogue curls around his finger and tugs lightly. “You don’t trust this yet. That’s okay. We’ll get there.”
“I’m jealous of your confidence,” I admit. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
A gentle smile curves his lips. “You’re bracing for the worst, but Scar, we’ve already been through the worst.”
The man has a point. “It just feels too easy,” I say sheepishly.
“That’s because itiseasy now. It wasn’t then. Ten years ago we had no control, no resources, no perspective. Everything is different now.”
Could it really be that simple? Could things just…work this time? I desperately want to let myself believe it, even if it feels too good to be true.
“Think about it this way,” he says, sliding his fingers through mine and tracing slow circles against my palm with his thumb. “If you want me with you, I’ll be with you. If you want some space to work, I’ll give you space to work. The exact amount you want me there is how much I’ll be there. I’ll support you however I can. I can be your assistant, or your personalmigraine masseuse. I’ll costar in the movie for free. I’ll do an uncredited cameo.”
I grin and wind my arms around his neck. “And let you steal my thunder? Never.”
He snorts, hooking his fingers through my belt loops and pulling me flush against him. “I can also just be your boyfriend.”
I hum in pleasure. “I like the sound of that.”
“I can rub your feet at the end of a long day. I can make you dinner,” he offers, and I arch a skeptical eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised!” he says, laughing. “I’ve actually become a pretty decent cook.”
“Is that right?” I scrape my nails through the hair at his nape, lowering my voice to a purr. “What other new skills have you picked up?”
A match strikes behind his eyes, the gold of his irises eclipsed by black. “Only one way to find out.”
His mouth finds mine, and within seconds, our kiss surges from a spark to a blazing bonfire. The press of his body erases everything else, the outside world fading away, and I no longer care where we are or who might see. His hunger is a perfect match for my own, intense and all-consuming. I’m drowning in the heat of his hands and mouth, in the ache that’s been smoldering since last night on the boat.
