“Sam—”
“No, let me get this out.” I steadied my nerves with a huge breath and stepped backward, out of his arms. “You were nothing I had planned. Not that I ever have a plan, right? But you happened. And I know you’re graduating flight school in five months, and then you’ll be gone. I get it. We’re not permanent. But you happened to me. And I have no claim on you, no right to you, and I’m falling for you. That’s…that’s dangerous to me.” His eyes, his mouth, his very being softened. “And coming here, seeing you like this—it hurts my heart. I would give anything for you to have your miracle, to have Grace back, but I can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said softly, stepping toward me.
I retreated. “Stop. I can’t think when you touch me.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Okay.” He took another step.
“It’s just that when you’re home at Rucker, you’re mine. Maybe not…mine, mine. But…I know we have something. And I come here…” Why is this so hard to get out? “Here, you’re hers. And I don’t mean romantically, though I totally get that, too. Here, you’re still paying penance for something you carry no blame for. I feel like the only person who has a chance of breaking past your walls is lying in a coma. Here, you’re hers, not mine, and I’m falling, Grayson.”
I put my hands out to block him, but he simply reached under them and lifted me by my hips until I was eye level with him. He was strong enough to carry me with just his arms; I didn’t even need to brace my weight on his shoulders. So damn hot. “Grayson.”
“Shh. My turn.” He placed me on the captain’s chair, keeping our faces a breath apart. His hands were warm as they cupped my face. “You’re right, and I am all those things. Here, I’m what they need me to be. I’m my parents’ son, and my sisters’ brother. I serve as a link to Grace for her parents, and I take a little of their burden for caring for her. I’ll shoulder their blame, even as subconscious as it may be, because I deserve it.” His thumb pressed over my lips when I tried to speak. “No, it’s true. I’ll never forgive myself for letting Owen drive. For not taking his keys. That’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life, and Grace is a living reminder of it. When I’m here, I’m still her best friend. I still pray for a miracle, because if anyone deserves a happy, full life, it’s Grace.”
My stomach dropped. Believing he was always going to be hers and hearing it from his lips were two different things. His thumbs stroked my cheekbones, and I fought against leaning into him, for taking any moment he was willing to give, even if I was selfishly stealing it from her.
“But, Samantha, it doesn’t matter if I’m at our house at Rucker, or walking the beach here. I’m still yours. Sitting next to Grace? Yours. Studying for my next flight? Yours. Arguing with my sisters, my parents, the Bowdens…I’m still yours. I might not say it, but if I happened to you, well, you sure-as-hell more than happened to me. You challenge me, transform me every day. It doesn’t matter what everyone sees, or what role I have to play, you’re under my skin, and when I come here, you’re along for the ride. This is not a temporary thing between us. There is no deadline. I. Am. Always. Yours.”
He kissed me softly, his tongue tracing my lower lip. “So go ahead and fall. I’ve gotten really good at catching you.”
My fingers dug into the back of his shirt at the same moment my lips molded to his. Hands on my hips, he pulled me flush against him, and that fire we’d kept carefully banked raged to life. God, I was ready to burn.
I deepened the kiss, stroking my tongue against his, and he took control, tilting my head to get a better angle. His hands shifted lower, cupping my ass, and he lifted me off the chair. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back.
My fingers ran through his hair. Lips caressing, teeth nipping, tongues stroking, soothing—our kiss consumed each of my senses. He slipped one of his hands under my dress, and then the other, until he held me by bare skin. He lightly squeezed the backs of my thighs, his fingers achingly close to the small strip of lace that separated them. “I love your skin,” he whispered against my mouth. Then he kissed down my throat, sucking the tender patch of skin that met my collarbone.
“And the way you smell…” He ran his nose along the line of my neck. “I could live here, Sam.”
I tugged his hair, bringing his mouth back to mine, and sucked his tongue into my mouth where it belonged. He groaned, tightening his grip on my thighs, and then we were moving. He tore his mouth away from mine long enough to press my head to his shoulder as he carried me down the stairs to the cabin of the boat.
As soon as we cleared the ceiling, his mouth was mine, our kisses taking a harder, more desperate edge. I tugged at his shirt, but it caught on my legs. “Impatient?” he asked against my mouth.
“Get it off. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” My mouth watered at the idea of tracing every line of his phenomenal body with my tongue.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
He carried me with one hand and opened a door behind me with the other. One more step and he lowered me to a bed, complete with the softest sheets I’d ever felt. “The bed is made?” I asked as he stepped back.
“Photo shoot this morning for the brochure. Would you like a tour?” he motioned to his back.