All at once, my pulse recovers, then goes into overdrive. My heart thunders in my chest, screaming its truth.
I listen.
“I love you, too.”
Just like that, the tears I’ve been fighting all evening flood my eyes, a few unruly traitors spilling over. I tilt my head away, but Grayson tightens his hands, bringing my face right back to his.
“Got salt water in my retinas again,” I sputter.
He laughs and kisses me, my tears salty against his lips. I breathe through it, and by the time he pulls away, I’ve reclaimed a sliver of composure.
Eyes shining, his palms coast down my shoulders to my hands. He glances at my soaked clothes. “You arrived in a kayak, but it looks like you swam,” he says with amusement.
A giggle bursts out. “It probably would’ve been faster if I did. That thing is a tank.” I roll my aching shoulders, thenpeer around his body at the other boat’s open engine. “Please tell me you fixed that engine before Kenny left. My arms are noodles. I might be able to hold a wrench for you, but otherwise, I’m useless.”
“Don’t worry. Just need to screw something in place, and we’re good.” He winks. “Though I wouldn’t mind being stranded out here all night with you.” His gaze lifts above me. “Or at least until sunset.”
I tilt my head to see the orange cast bleeding over the sky as the sun tracks toward the horizon. There isn’t a cloud in sight.
This sunset’s going to bepristine.
Unmissable.
I don’t have to say a word. Grayson breaks away to pull two towels from a deck compartment, laying them down like picnic blankets. Then he takes my hand and tugs me down with him, situating me between his legs, my back to his front.
“I’m soaking wet and smell like seawater,” I warn, even as I tuck myself into him.
“Baby, I’m sweaty and smell like a workday.”
Neither of us cares. His arms fold around me, cocooning me in his heat, and my chest glows as warm as the sky.
This is what bliss feels like.
Wet fabric itches my skin, my arms ache, and I only have a few weeks to learn everything about the wine industry, but I’ve never felt more at peace. My brain—the engine that never quits—isquiet.All of my headspace has been filled by this man and his presence and the fact that he’smine.
Well, there isoneniggling thought.
“Can you text Amanda that I’m alive? I don’t want herto worry.” Or race out here on a boat thinking I’ve drowned, just to see us all cozied up.
“Of course.” One of his hands leaves to send the message, before wrapping around me again, even tighter than before. Sealing us together.
His torso vibrates against me as he says, “You know, I’m surprised you’re waiting until September to start with Anson. Your contract at the farm is done mid-August.”
Ofallthe revelations, that’s what’s sticking in his head?
Planting a cheeky grin on my face, I lean to the side and catch his gaze. “I’m not sure if you heard, but I’m a pro at giving tours now. I figured I should donate you two extra weeks of my time to show you how it’s done.”
His grin is stunning. “Alright, Boston. We’ll see what you got.”
Unable to help myself, I reach for his scruffy jaw, and urge his mouth toward mine. Just before I close the distance, I wink and add, “And I heard the grumpy, hot oyster farmer doesn’t want a social media girl, but I’m having far too much fun being a pain in his ass to leave him so soon.”
EPILOGUE
GRAYSON
October
There’sa crispness to the autumn air, warning of shorter days and frigid temperatures ahead. But it does nothing to wick the sweat from my forehead as I haul ass down the basketball court.
