Page 72 of The Seashell of ’Ohana

I went farther out toward the cliff, toward the ocean, to be alone in my thoughts and lose myself in this splendid view. The strong wind pushed me back, so I wrapped my arms to keep me warm and steady.

Would I be that widow who never moved forward, never found love again? I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else besides Steve. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t want to be here. Why had I agreed to go in the first place?

As these thoughts circulated through my mind, I decided to call for a ride and let Kate know I was leaving. But then something warm draped over my shoulders. Ian had taken off his suit jacket and placed it over me.

“If you stand here too long, you might fly away. Then I’ll have to jump to catch you. That might be a little bit hard to do. Although, I could cross that off on the dangerous side of my bucket list, if I survive.”

I snorted. “Thank you.” I tugged his jacket tighter.

“Were you thinking of painting this view? I hope so. I would buy it in a heartbeat.”

“I think I will.” A lie, sort of. Now that he’d mentioned it, I thought, why not. “And you’re not buying anything from me. I owe you a painting for everything you’ve done and will do.”

I took a step back from the force of the wind, my hair slapping my face. He grabbed my arms, thinking I might trip, but we both ended up stumbling from the slope of the hill. My back thumped on the fence, Ian blocking my view of the party.

I swallowed a nervous lump. His eyes held a familiar intensity.

“I want to do more, Abby,” he said.

“You don’t need to do more, Ian. You’ve done plenty.”

He cleared his throat, his attention on the grass, then back to me. “I knew the day I met you that I would love you. I think you feel something for me, too, but your grief or guilt is holding you back. We can take it slow. I want to spend as many days with you as you’re willing to give me.”

“Ian … I …” I began, but he continued.

“You know I’ve dated many women, but I never felt this kind of strong connection with them. I lived day to day, even being reckless at times, but after my mother passed away, something changed in me.” He clutched his chest. “I realized that though I have many years ahead of me, I want them to be meaningful. I want them to be meaningful with you. Let me mend your broken heart. I want to give you and Tyler the world.”

He lowered his eyes to my mouth, caressing my hair away from my face. This man who had become my friend, whom I admired and respected, had a hold on me I didn’t want. And, at the same time, I didn’t want to let go. The fact that he included my son in his life meant more to me than he could ever know.

I was hypnotized, watching his lips coming closer while his gaze bored into mine as if asking for my permission. Shiver me timbers. I might just give in.

“Abby …” His voice came low and gruff, almost a growl as if fighting the urge to say or do something.

“I really like you—” I needed to say something after his sweet declaration, but perhaps I shouldn’t have started with, “I really like you.”

Ian’s eyes grew darker, and he repeated my name, then crushed his lips to mine. Oh, sweet heavens above. His kiss was soft and tender, growing more intense when I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him in.

I had forgotten what it felt like to be wanted, desired, and kissed like this. I had forgotten how good it felt. I had forgotten how to kiss, and hoped I was doing it right. But Ian … with Ian … it felt so right. Kissing him came easy, our lips and tongues tangling, moving in sync.

When he groaned, I melted into him. He gripped me tighter. He had me spellbound, back to the ocean when it was just the two of us. The ground beneath me crumbled, and my world spun. Dizzy, I was floating to the moon and the stars. The music, the people, my thoughts of leaving the party vanished.

Ian tasted like wine and chocolate, and I wanted more of him, more of his kisses, more of his touches. More of this incredible man.

I moaned, my grip on him growing tighter. I had fought and fought, refused to care about him more than as a friend, but it was too late now. The rush of wanting him broke like a dam. And his kiss undid me. Half torn with pleasure and desire, the other half by guilt and loss. The second half won.

I jerked away, breathless. “Ian …” I shook my head as tears pooled in my eyes. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Ian’s fingers grazed my arm, but closed on air when I took another step back. “Abby …”

I retreated even more, and he squeezed his eyes shut. As my heels sank into the dirt, my steps uneven and tripping on my own feet, I ran, trying to cover my sobbing face.

I needed air. I needed space. What was I doing? I liked Ian a lot, but I wasn’t ready to let go of Steve—not just yet.

Chapter Twenty-Eight — Revelation

I texted my sister to let her know I had called a driver and left. Ian might tell Lee, or he would try to forget what had happened between us and move on to the next woman. Maybe even Jessica.

Oh, God. That thought made me nauseous.