That evening,a comfortable, almost domestic rhythm had settled over my kitchen, one that had become familiar over the past weeks. Austin leaned against the counter near the sink as I put the finishing touches on dinner. He’d shown up at my door half an hour ago, flimsy excuses long gone. Now we shared a quiet, unspoken understanding that this was just what we did.
The air was filled with the scent of the roast chicken I’d made, the sharp, herby aroma of the vinaigrette for the salad, and the warm, yeasty smell of the crusty bread I’d picked up at the market.
I pulled a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc from the refrigerator and held it up. “Wine? Or are you sticking with beer tonight?”
“Depends.” His eyes glinted with a humor I was starting to get used to. “Are we celebrating something?”
“We could be. We could celebrate the fact that my house isn’t actively trying to collapse on top of me today. Or that I met another one of your siblings without any major international incidents.”
He pushed off the counter and closed the space between us, taking the wine bottle from my hand. “I’ll get it.” He found the corkscrew in the jumble of my utility drawer with an ease that spoke to his growing familiarity with my kitchen. “And for the record, all my siblings are pains in the ass. Don’t let them fool you.”
I laughed as I pulled two wine glasses from the cupboard. “Too late. I’m already friends with Brenna, remember?” I watched as he uncorked the wine, his handsmoving with that unexpected grace. “I admit, I’m shocked, Captain. I had you pegged as strictly a beer-and-black-coffee man. Are you sure you can handle a fancy white wine?”
He finished pouring and handed me a glass. Then, to my complete shock and delight, he winked—a real, honest-to-goodness, slow wink that made my heart do a little stutter-step.
“Have to keep you on your toes. Besides,” he added, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second, “I figure drinking wine with you earns me some brownie points. Maybe I can cash them in later.”
The joke, a clear callback to my pastry offensive, landed squarely in my chest, a warm, blossoming thing. This was easy. This was fun.
We sat at my kitchen table, the sounds of the island night just beginning to stir outside the open window—the chirp of crickets, the distant hum of a boat out on the water. The chicken was juicy, the bread crisp yet soft inside, the wine cold and perfect.
“Which sibling did you run into?”
“Ben, at Island Market.”
He nodded, chewing on a piece of potato.
“We had a nice chat.” I took a breath, mustering my courage. This was the moment. “It made me realize… I know you, but I don’t really know you. Not all of you. I know the solitary, intense man next door, the one who likes my baking and who helped me with my siding.” I looked up, meeting his gaze, trying to convey the sincerity, the real need behind my words. “But I don’t know the world you come from. I’d love to see Sunset Siesta, Austin. The place your family built. I want to understand that part of you.”
He stilled, his fork halfway to his mouth. The easy humor of a moment ago vanished, replaced by that familiar, guarded intensity. He put his fork down slowly, his gazedropping to his plate as he considered my words. The silence stretched, and I held my breath, my heart starting to pound again as I prepared for disappointment.
When he glanced up, his eyes searched mine, a silent, internal war raging in their depths. I could see the instinct to refuse, to shut me down, to retreat back into safety. Then, he let out a slow, heavy breath, a sound of a decision made. “Yeah. All right. I suppose I can show you around the place.”
Relief, and more than a little surprise, flooded through me. A wide, uncontrollable smile broke across my face. “Really? Austin, I can’t wait.”
He tilted his head to study the sky outside the window. “How about tomorrow? If the weather holds, we could takeLine Dancerout for a bit afterwards. See a proper sunset from the water.”
My jaw actually dropped. This was more than I had hoped for. He wasn’t just agreeing to let me into his world. He was inviting me into his most sacred space: his boat, the ocean.
“I would love that. So much.”
The tension in the room shifted again, the earlier ease replaced by a new, humming, electric current. The tour, the sunset, that was all for tomorrow. My mind was no longer on the future. It was on him. Right here. Right now.
My dinner was forgotten. I pushed my chair back and stood, closing the space between us until I was standing beside his chair. He looked up at me, his eyes dark and questioning.
I didn’t say anything. I just leaned down, tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair, and skated my lips over his. It was a kiss full of the gratitude, hope, and spooling desire that was coursing through me. He responded instantly, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck, his thumbstroking my skin as he pulled me deeper. The kiss was hot, hungry, a confirmation of everything that had been building between us.
I pulled back just enough to trail my lips along the rough, stubbled line of his jaw, inhaling the masculine scent of him—salt, sea, and pure, complicated Austin.
“You know, all this talk about tomorrow is great.” I kissed the corner of his mouth, and his breath stuttered. “But I’m very concerned about the structural integrity of my bedroom. After all that demolition upstairs.” My voice was pure, playful seduction. “It needs a thorough inspection.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest, and I felt it vibrate all the way to my toes. He turned his head, capturing my mouth again for another deep, soul-stealing kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes were burning, all traces of the guarded, grumpy neighbor completely gone, replaced by the raw, possessive man I was coming to know in the darkness of my bedroom.
“Is that right?” His voice was a low, rough purr. “Maybe I should come check it out for you.”
He stood, his tall frame dwarfing me, and took my hand, his calloused fingers lacing through mine. He led me from the kitchen, leaving our half-eaten dinner and the bottle of wine forgotten on the table. Halfway up the grand staircase, on the second-floor landing, I pushed him against the wall and slammed my lips into his. With a groan, he spun me around and grabbed my ass, lifting me and holding me against the plaster. We didn’t even make it to my room. Instead, we ended up checking the structural integrity of the staircase.
Chapter Twenty-One
