Page 73 of Hearts on the Line

“No, we’re not done yet,” I whisper. I smooth my hands over his shoulders, trying to anchor myself, but the truth sinks in anyway.

He still loves me.

And that terrifies me more than anything.

Chapter 24

Ethan

Was it responsible to stay up last night, knowing I needed to get up in a few hours to haul traps? No.

Do I regret it?

Sloane nuzzles closer to me, a sleepy smile on her face, and her leg is hooked over mine.

So no, I don’t regret a fucking minute of last night. I do regret that I’m about to spend my morning out on a stormy ocean when I could be here, in bed, with her.

Rain drums against the window.

We’ve been apart so long, I’m terrified to make one wrong move and lose her. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing or not say the right thing.

I haven’t stopped loving her, even after all this time, and now she’s here.

She’s wearing a T-shirt of mine with a giant lobster on it. It’s so worn out, there’s a hole in the shoulder and the collar is a little tattered.

Sloane Arden is in my bed. With me.

I don’t know what to do with the way it feels like this should have always been mine—her, here, like this.

I inhale slowly, certain I must have pissed someone off to be forced to go to work right now. I never call in sick, and since I’m the boss right now, it’s tempting not to go in, but I can’t do that. I mean, physically, I can’t. The idea of slowing down even a little gives me hives.

It’ll be fine. We’ll be fine in a few hours.

I try my best to untangle from her, but her eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“I’ve got to get on the boat,” I say like an idiot.

Her hand, which is tightly tucked against my side, snakes up to my shoulder, then brushes back against my hair. It’s like a fucking magic trick, and I can feel something crack inside my chest.

“I have to get up too.” She tips her face and presses her lips to mine in a soft kiss.

“You’re making it hard for me to leave.”

“I’m making it hard is right,” she says with a playful giggle.

“Christ, you’re still half asleep.”

“You are not half—” She plasters a finger to my mouth. “Shh, you know I need coffee first.”

She’s too fucking cute. I chuckle, my voice rough. Then I move slowly until she’s there beneath me on the bed. Her brown hair spills across my pillowcase, her lips still full from kissing so much, and my T-shirt rides up on her body, revealing her long legs.

“I think I drowned,” I say, bending down to kiss her neck. When she reaches around to wrap her hands over my shoulders, I shake off her touch and pin her hands above her head instead.

“Drowned?” she whispers.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of having you in my bed.”