I knew the exact moment Xabat awoke. His body tensed against mine, muscles going rigid as though his mind was struggling to place where he was, why he was naked, why there was a woman in his arms. Then recognition flooded through him, and he melted into me, a deep, contented sigh breaking from his lips that I felt more than heard.
"Good morning," I murmured, glancing over my shoulder at him.
Xabat's face softened into a smile that made my heart skip, and he buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "Good morning."
"Did you sleep well?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. At least he had in the brief stretches of time when he hadn't been fucking me senseless.
"Hmmm." The sound rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest, so low and satisfied it was almost a purr. I felt it vibrate through my entire body.
I shifted slightly, suddenly hyperaware of every point where our bare skin touched. The press of his thighs against mine, the weight of his arm draped across my waist, the warmth of his breath on my neck, the feel of his cock nestled against my bottom. Xabat's arm immediately loosened around my waist, giving me space to move. The loss of his warmth made me want to press back against him, to chase that connection, but I resisted the urge.
"Are you...?" he started, a frown creasing his brow, concern flickering in those deep purple eyes.
"I'm good," I said quickly, then laughed a little at how inadequate that sounded. "I mean, I'm okay. Better than okay. This is just... I mean, last night was...." Heat flooded my face, turning my cheeks scarlet. God, I was babbling like a teenager.
"For me as well." His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, and the fingers that brushed a strand of hair from my cheek were achingly gentle.
I turned over to face him, meeting those strange, beautiful eyes that seemed to shift between lavender and violet depending on the light. "I don't regret it. Do you?" I knew that despite my assurances, he still worried about how his brother would feel when he learned about us.
"No." The word came without hesitation, firm and certain, and something that had wound tight in my chest loosened. "Never."
We lay there for another long moment, just looking at each other. The silence between us felt comfortable, intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex. Then Xabat's mouth quirked into that small, crooked smile, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and I found myself smiling back, helpless against it.
"We should probably get up," I said, though I made no move to do so, perfectly content to stay exactly where I was. "Sounds like the storm has broken."
"Probably," he agreed, not moving either, his eyes still locked on mine.
Finally, I pushed myself up, the blanket falling away from my shoulders as I reached for my clothes scattered across the floor. I felt his eyes on me, tracking my movements, and glanced back to find him watching with an expression that made heat rise to my cheeks all over again.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
The words hit me before I could brace for them. "You are beautiful, Harper."
My breath caught. It wasn't the compliment itself—it was the way he said it. Like he was stating a fundamental truth about the universe, something as undeniable as gravity or the tide. My throat went tight, and I had to look away before I did something stupid like cry or kiss him again or both.
I grabbed my sweatshirt and yanked it over my head. "Come on. Let's see what's going on outside."
Xabat rose from our nest of towels, completely unselfconscious in his nakedness. God, he was gorgeous—all muscle and strength, graceful as water. I tried not to stare as he reached for his clothes, failed miserably, and watched as hepulled on his sweats and T-shirt. Together we picked our way toward the front of the store, footsteps echoing in the hollow silence.
The view through the door stopped me dead.
My breath died in my throat. The world outside looked like it had been fed through a blender and spat back out. Palm fronds the size of surfboards carpeted everything. Debris—shingles, siding, unidentifiable chunks of people's lives—scattered across the landscape like the world's most depressing confetti. The parking lot at the bottom of the hill? Gone. Replaced by a murky lake dotted with roofing pieces, splintered two-by-fours, and what looked like someone's entire patio furniture set floating past like sad little islands searching for shore.
A fishing boat had washed up against the building next door, listing at an angle that defied physics.
The causeway had vanished completely beneath the flood. Dark water stretched across it like a river, whitecaps still visible where the wind shoved stubbornly against the receding tide. Power lines sagged dangerously low. Some had snapped entirely, dangling like broken spider silk.
But the sky—God, the sky. An impossible, crystalline blue that only comes after a storm has wrung itself completely dry. So vivid it almost hurt to look at. The air smelled impossibly clean, like the world had been stripped to its bones and given a chance to start over.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Wow."
"Is this normal?" Xabat's voice came quiet and uncertain beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.
"For a Category 4? Yeah. Pretty much." I studied the flooded causeway, calculating distances and depths based on the debris. "We're not going anywhere for a while."
And despite everything, the destruction sprawled before us like a war zone, the danger stalking me, the uncertainty of what came next, I felt a traitorous flutter of relief bloom warm in my chest.
Xabat secured the door, angling the boards back into place so no one could see inside. I gathered up breakfast—I would have killed for an egg—and returned to our nest of beach towels, settling cross-legged on the makeshift bed.
