We stepped onto the yacht together.
The moment my foot crossed onto the deck, the world shifted.
The hum of the marina faded. The city noise dulled. Even the wind seemed to hush.
The yacht rocked gently beneath me, the sway slipping beneath my skin, making my body mimic the ocean without thinking. The lanterns flickered, the light brushing across my arms, giving my skin a soft, warm glow.
The wind caught my hair immediately playful, greedy, lifting it from my neck, brushing it across my lips. Cool salt spray kissed my jaw, little droplets sticking like glitter.
My heart softened.
Physically.
Literally.
Like it melted inside my chest and spilled warmth into places that had been frozen for months.
I blinked hard because beauty that pure always hurt a little.
And when I lifted my head, Dane was watching me.
Not casually.
Not politely.
Watching me like he was imprinting me into memory. Like he didn’t want to miss a single reaction, a single breath, a single flutter in my expression.
His eyes dragged slowly over my face, the kind of slow that feels like being touched without any skin meeting skin. His mouth parted a little, like he was about to say something, but got caught on the sight of me instead.
A breeze stirred between us, carrying the smell of the ocean and something else, the faint, clean scent of his cologne, mixed with warmth and something uniquely him.
The evening light hit his profile, carving shadows beneath his jaw, catching the edge of his lashes, turning his eyes into molten dark honey.
For a second, I wondered if he even remembered to breathe.
I hoped he didn’t.
Because I sure as hell forgot.
The breeze shifted, cooler now that the sun dipped lower, brushing over my arms and raising goosebumps. It wasn’t cold, not really, but it was the kind of chill that made my skin tighten, my breath catch.
Before I could rub my arms or pretend I wasn’t reacting, Dane moved.
Not hurried.
Not dramatic.
Just… decisive.
He pulled his grey sweatshirt from where Peter had set our things, the fabric soft, worn at the cuffs, smelling faintly of cedar and something warm and male.
He stepped behind me.
Close.
Close enough that the heat of him grazed my back before the sweatshirt did. Close enough that I felt his breath skim the top of my shoulder. Close enough that my heartbeat tripped over itself twice.
“Lift your arms,” he murmured.
