Wind in his hair.
Sun in his eyes and glinting off the pewter at his wrist.
One hand wrapped around the mug of fake coffee we’re sharing, the other already reaching for me. “Is it everything you dreamed?”
“How do you know I’ve been dreaming of this?”
He smiles. “I sleep next to you every night and old age has you talking in your sleep.”
“We’re the same age.”
“Never said I was young.”
I snort as Jack kisses my temple. Because he is young. We both are. We’ve just lived a lot, is all.
Jack brings the mug to my lips.
I take a sip.
Then he sets it aside, winds his arms around me, and holds my gaze with so much love and desire in those Gallagher greens, it’s hard to believe I didn’t die in that storm and land myself in paradise.
We’re together.
Best friends. Lovers. Soulmates.
Gods, maybe I am asleep, but even my dirtiest dreams are no match for the heat rising in me as Jack kisses me.
He loves kissing. Still loves blowing me more than he’s bothered about his own pleasure.
And as the sea rolls gently beneath us, steady and blue, I’m here for all of it.
I’m giddy with the sheer joy flowing through me. Which is why it takes me a second to read Jack as his rough palm slides to the back of my head and holds me in place as he deepens the kiss, narrowing my world to the taste of coffee and him. As he pulls back and rests his forehead to mine. “Sol.”
There’s so much weight in that gravelled murmur. So much promise.
There’s no air in my laugh, though. “You want to mess around on deck?”
“I want to fuck you.”
Damn. I toss a pointed glance at the ocean slipping past us and the froth in our wake.
Jack shrugs. “So stop her.”
A suggestion, not an order. But it feels like one, and sharper heat sparks in my blood. “You’re trouble, Gallagher.”
“Aye.”
He doesn’t deny it. How can he when he’s as aware as I am that he’s a filthy git? A surprise to us both once we found the time and space to truly explore the attraction we’d fumbled all these years, but I’m here for that too.
I steal a glance at the open water—the wide sweep of blue with nothing and no one in sight. Tide’s easy. Wind light. Could it be more perfect?
Doubt it.
I slip from his arms long enough to ease the throttle back and cut the engine. Quiet cocoons us as I drop anchor, and theSironasettles, rocking in the soft swell, safe and waiting for when I need her again.
Jack’s waiting on me too, leaning against the cabin door, as close as he ever gets to a smirk on his face. “Nicely done.”
“Yeah? You gonna benicetoo, love?”