Deleted it.
Typed: “I was thinking about you.”
Deleted that too.
The face that surfaced in his memory wasn’t calculating or strategic. It was her, lit by candlelight at Vito’s, laughing at Bella’s outrageous comments. Her hand in his during the walk home. Her expression in that moment before they’d kissed.
He wanted her.
Because she was her. Sharp and soft. Damaged and healing.
He set the phone aside.
Not because he was giving up. Because some things shouldn’t be said in a text message at midnight. Some things needed to be said in person, looking into brown eyes that saw through him completely.
TWENTY-ONE
AVINE
“I’d like to see you.” His voice was rough, businesslike, giving way to something more honest. “Tide pools. Nine p.m. I could make up a reason if you need one.”
Her heart kicked against her ribs. She’d spent three days replaying their dinner at Vito’s. The way he’d looked at her across the candlelit table. The brush of his fingers against hers. The kiss on her porch.
“I don’t need a reason.” The words left her before she could stop them. “I’ll meet you there.”
The full moonhung low and heavy over the tide pools, painting the water in shades of silver and phosphorescent blue. Avine picked her way down the cliff path, the cool night air carrying salt and ozone—or the particular charge of magic saturating this place.
Theo waited at the bottom, silhouetted against the glowing water. He’d traded his usual business casual for jeans and adark Henley that stretched across his shoulders in ways she was absolutely not cataloging.
“You came.” His voice carried an edge of surprise.
“You asked.” She stopped a few feet away, suddenly uncertain. “Though I have to admit, your excuse was paper-thin.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “It got you here.”
“Your tactical skills need work.”
“My tactical skills are fine.” He stepped closer, and the moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, the intensity in those storm-gray eyes. “Maybe I didn’t want to try too hard.”
The air between them felt thick, charged with potential. Avine’s pulse stuttered.
He held out his hand. “Walk with me?”
She took it.
His palm was warm and solid against hers, the grip of someone who worked with his hands—hauling lumber for the inn’s repairs, wrestling kegs at the brewery, all the physical labor an alpha apparently couldn’t delegate. His fingers laced through hers as naturally as breathing, like they’d done this a thousand times.
They walked along the water’s edge, waves lapping at rocks worn smooth by centuries of tides. The phosphorescence glowed brighter where the water moved, trails of light following each ripple. Above them, stars had emerged, impossibly bright without city lights to dim them.
“I used to come here as a kid,” Theo said. “When I needed to get away from pack politics. From my father.” His grip on her hand increased briefly. “The pools don’t care who your family is. They just… are.”
Avine glanced at his profile—the strong jaw, the way moonlight carved shadows beneath his cheekbones. “And now?”
“Now I come here when I need to remember what matters.”
She asked anyway. “What matters?”
He stopped walking, turning to face her. The moonlight silvered his features, made his eyes look like chips of ice with fire burning beneath.
