“Tabitha,” Ben moaned against her cheek. His lips dragged across her jaw, pressing kisses across her chilled skin. “I want you so badly.”
She’d never heard those words before, not from Ben.
Miguel had said them to her once, but the lustful feeling they evoked then didn’t remotely compare to the deep sense of love she was currently experiencing for the man uttering them now.
She wanted Ben more than just physically. She wanted him back in her life. Permanently.
“I want you, too.”
He pushed the neck opening of her shirt aside, giving his mouth better access to trail kisses down the slope of her jawline. “Tabs,” he groaned. Goosebumps drew up across her collarbone as his breath feathered over her skin. “I’m so in love with you.”
She pulled back. “What?”
His head dipped lower, but he looked up, blinking away the water still clinging to his lashes. “I’m in love with you. I love you.”
She couldn’t catch her breath, nor locate any words to say in response.
Ben bracketed her within his arms, a hand on either side of her on the counter. He brought his forehead to hers. “Does that scare you?”
She didn’t want to gulp, but knew if she swallowed, she would. So she just stood there, trying not to even breathe because her reaction wasn’t a neutral one.
“I’m not trying to scare you, Tabs. I’m just trying to be honest,” he said. “I feel like we both owe one another that.”
“I love you, too, Ben.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“What does this mean?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged a little. “I don’t know if it changes anything.”
“Of course, it does.” He moved his hands to her waist and lifted her onto the counter, then slid into the space between her legs. “Because I’ve felt this way for a while now, and if you feel the same…”
She wasn’t ready for a big change. Wasn’t ready to make the commitment Camille and Foster had recently made through vows and promises. So where did that leave them?
“Tabitha? Will you be my girlfriend?”
CHAPTER TEN
“Ithink I might be picking up on something.”
Skip adjusted the dial on the old radio, locking in on a frequency that was nothing more than fuzzy static to Camille’s ears.
“Do you hear that?” Her dear friend’s spine pulled ramrod straight like a dog catching a scent, zeroed in on one thing only. He leaned toward the dusty box, shoulders now rounded to get his ear as close to the speaker as possible, eyes shut to block out any other sort of distraction. “That! That!” A cragged finger thrust toward the radio like an exclamation point. “Hear it? Like a clanging or sort of banging noise? Boom, boom, boom.”
Camille couldn’t hear it, and truthfully, she doubted Skip could either considering she often had to shout to get his attention. She’d hollered that man’s name more times in a day than she could count. But when it came to the seas, Skip seemed to have heightened senses, an alertness that came from a deep, almost spiritual connection to the water. All those years on its surface made him in tune with the ocean in a way the average person couldn’t understand. It was a language all on its own.
Foster traded a look with Camille. “I’m not sure I hear anything, either,” he admitted quietly.
Skip turned the dial back down and clicked it into theOffposition with a huff of frustration. “I’m going back online to check the boards to see if there’s any new chatter going on there.”
While everyone in Seascape Shores had been concerned about the missing boat, Skip took things to another level, his concern shifting into obsession. Ever since learning of the missing vessel, he’d spent all his waking hours researching possible whereabouts and coordinates, communicating with his old sailor friends, and poring over paper maps and physical books. It was as if he’d lost one of his own and wasn’t going to rest until he brought the crew home and back to safety on shore.
Camille figured that was ultimately the responsibility of the Coast Guard, but she understood the camaraderie between seafarers. Her parents had had a similar community so many years ago, and when they’d disappeared into the depths on that fateful day, many from that group came out to search for them. Even more turned up later to mourn them.
“He’s consumed by this,” Camille said candidly after Skip had retreated to the other room.
