After the waiter returned with a bottle and two glasses and took their orders, Tess took a sip of the dark red wine. The taste of rich, dark fruit was silky smooth, tantalizing her palate. “Mmm. You were right. This is delicious.”
“Told you. We came here for Bonnie’s birthday about three months ago, and the owner recommended it. I liked it so much, I made a note of it on my phone. I bought a bottle about a week later, but it’s still sitting at my condo.” He shrugged. “I don’t really like drinking by myself, so...”
“Same.” She let out a small giggle. “Honestly, I still have five beers from a six-pack I bought about eight months ago. I don’t know why, but I brought them to the beach house with the rest of the food from our fridge. I should just pour them down the sink.”
He gasped in mock horror. “That would be sacrilege.”
“True. Next time you come by, we’ll sit on the back porch and finish them off, so I don’t have to see them every time I open the refrigerator.”
“Deal,” Brian said, his gaze holding hers. “So... tell me something you don’t usually share with people.”
She lifted a brow. “Like what? A deep dark secret?”
“Could be. Or something small. Something that’s just... you.”
She hesitated, thinking for a moment, then confessed, “I hate clowns. When I was little, and Andy was just a baby, my parents took us to this traveling combination circus and fair. Not sure why, but I thought the clowns were hideous-looking. I’ve been scared of them ever since. To me, they’re all like the one Stephen King wrote about.”
“Pennywise fromIt.Great book.” He grimaced. “Great if you don’t have coulrophobia, of course—the fear of clowns.”
Tilting her head, she stared at him. “How did you know the name for it?”
He lifted an open palm. “Would you believe itcame up in a case once? Never knew what it was called before that, and haven’t forgotten it since for some reason.”
“Well, color me impressed.” She sipped her wine, then asked, “What about you? What’s your deep, dark secret?”
His grin was crooked. “When I was six, I ran away from home with a backpack full of cookies, comic books, and a stuffed rabbit I had since I was a baby. Made it to the end of the block, remembered I wasn’t allowed to cross the street without an adult, and turned around and went home. The worst part was I thought nobody knew I was missing—for all of five or six minutes—but I found out years later that my mom had watched me from the window the whole time. She said she was ready to run after me if I tried to cross the street.”
Tess snickered, the sound bubbling out before she could stop it. “A backpack full of cookies, comic books, and a stuffed rabbit?” she echoed. “That’s the most six-year-old thing I’ve ever heard. Why did you run away in the first place?”
He froze, staring at her for several long heartbeats. “You know, I don’t even remember?”
They both burst out laughing, drawing the attention of a few people around them. With the lightheartedness of the moment, the last of Tess’s nerves slipped away. To her surprise, she wasn’t just comfortable—shewas genuinely enjoying herself and Brian’s company far more than she’d expected.
Their food arrived, and conversation flowed easily—stories of childhood summers, the quirks of their jobs, and even teasing about Andy’s teenage moods. Yet beneath it all, the awareness between them pulsed stronger with every glance, every brush of hands when they both reached for the breadbasket.
By the time dessert menus appeared, Tess realized she hadn’t thought about the damage to the house or her endless to-do lists for hours. She’d only thought about the incredibly sexy man sitting on the other side of the table. And that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her.
Chapter 16
The short drive back to the beach house was quiet—soft yet comfortable. Tess sat angled toward the window, as if seeing the town from the passenger seat for the first time. He kept sneaking glances at her before forcing himself to watch the road. The last thing he needed to do was cause an accident or hit a pedestrian because he wasn’t paying attention.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a meal like that. Not just the food—though the steak at the Cranberry Inn hadn’t disappointed—but the easy way she’d smiled at him, the laughter that had caught him off guard. Usually, his dates had an end goal—sex—and everything before that was foreplay. However, with Tess, it was different. She made him forget the constant push-and-pull of expectations. Conversation flowed, comfortable and genuine, leaving him lighterthan he’d felt in years. For once, he wasn’t calculating his next move or what came after dessert—he was simply in the moment, enraptured by her, and that departure from his norm shook him more than he wanted to admit.
He pulled into the loose-gravel driveway, headlights sweeping across the dunes and beachgrass at the far end. Tess twisted in her seat to look at him, her hand brushing her necklace as if she needed the small comfort of touch to calm her nerves. “Do you want to come up? Just for a nightcap—you know, those beers that are still in the fridge.”
Brian’s pulse kicked, and his cock stirred as he stared at her lips. She’d offered the invitation lightly, and he chose to take it at face value—a beer on the porch, nothing more. He didn’t want to rush her. Slow and steady seemed like the right pace for once. If she wanted more, she’d have to say so.
“Yeah,” he said, killing the engine. “That sounds good.”
After they climbed out of his truck, he followed her around the back of the house and up the stairs. “Why don’t we sit out here? It’s a beautiful night.”
She smiled at him. “It is. I’ll just grab a sweater and the beer.”
When she slipped inside, he strolled over to the railing and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The night was cool and comfortable, the kind of early-summer evening he’d grown up with. It was aroundsixty-five degrees with a light breeze carrying the ocean’s breath inland and adding a slight chill. The briny coastal air was heavy with salt and seaweed. Threaded through it was something softer—the hint of Tess’s perfume, floral with a note he couldn’t place, like honeysuckle left in the sun.
Beyond the porch, the familiar ocean stretched dark and steady, the full moon casting a silver path across the waves. Each swell caught the light before sliding back into shadow. The sky was clear, stars scattered thick across the night, sharp and bright against the blackness. The only sound was the waves pounding the shoreline and fanning out across the sand before retreating again, in an endless lullaby.
The screen door squeaked a moment later, and Tess appeared, two long-neck bottles in hand. She’d changed her sandals for cute, fuzzy slippers, and a lightweight sweater was draped over her dress. She crossed to him with an easy grace, handed him a beer, and settled onto the porch swing. Brian followed, lowering himself beside her. The old chains creaked, and he mentally added oiling them to his list of things to do—any excuse to be around Tess more often.
