The last couple of times Trent had come to check out his block of land, he’d felt this caged sensation. Like there’d been vines creeping up his legs and arms, wrapping around his wrists as though the place wanted to claim him. Hold him prisoner. It was a strange thing to think you wanted something, only to experience a very negative physical reaction when presented with the opportunity to achieve that goal.
But now there was nothing but the rustle of leaves and salt-drenched air and the sweetest hint of flowers. Not that there were any blooms in the immediate vicinity. Oh no, that was all Cora. And standing by his side, looking out at the ocean…well, it was a little too easy to take a mental pencil and sketch in the fantasy details—beautiful house, chilled beers, blanket to get hot and heavy under while the stars twinkled overhead.
Let’s focus on the hot and heavy component of that, shall we?
“It’s beautiful.” Cora sighed, and the sound touched him somewhere deep. It was the sigh of a person releasing something into the world, the sigh of someone becoming one with a place.
“It’s a good size,” he said, trying to shake the uncharacteristic sentimental tone to his thoughts. Clearly, he’d let Nick and Jace and Angie get in his head. Building a house wasn’t an emotional choice—it was a logical one. Dollars and percentages and decades. Squares and rooms and walls. Solid, real things. “I was worried about the narrow frontage, but I think I can make it work.”
Cora made a disbelieving sound. “You love this place. Don’t give me that crap about ‘narrow frontage’ or whatever.”
The way she mimicked his accent—badly—made him smile. “You’ve got to work on your Aussie before you start tackling impersonations.”
“Oh yeah, like your American is any better.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“My American is, like, perfect,” he said in his best Kardashian-type accent, which earned him a dirty look and a swat from Cora.
“I do not speak like that! And nice try changing the subject.” Her mock annoyance faded into something softer, more observant. “You do that a lot.”
“Do I?” That was Trent, evasive any time someone saw too much.
The affable, unaffected persona had developed over the years—starting with the class-clown antics of his childhood to more subtle things as he got older that allowed him to hold people at a distance. Jokes and flirting and charisma were powerful shields, and he’d built a wall made of smiles around his heart. It was easier that way, to hide the hurt and sense of loss and the fear that he didn’t belong.
“Yeah, you do,” Cora said. “I think people take you at face value, but there’s a lot going on under the surface. You’re a complicated man.”
Trent snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve been called complicated. Ever.”
“People don’t look much farther than the ends of their own noses,” Cora replied sagely. “That much I have learned in life.”
“But you do.”
Cora nodded, biting down on her bottom lip. There was that feeling again—the sense that she wanted to say something more. It was like a tautness in the air. What was swirling around in her head right now?
“That’s because I’m a reader,” she said eventually, nodding. Whatever was dancing on the tip of her tongue, she wasn’t going to share it any time soon. “We tend to enjoy the study of people.”
Trent wasn’t sure what was going on in Cora’s head, but he had the urge to reach out to her, and so he did. He looped his fingers around her wrists and tugged her to him. She came without hesitation, letting him pull her close, winding her arms around his neck and tilting her face up to his.
Trent brought his lips down to her, coaxing her open and sweeping his tongue against hers. It was sweet, burning, heady. He kissed her like he’d never kissed anyone else before, with abandon and longing and a desire to connect beyond the physical.
Bringing her here had been…stupid? Risky? Pointless?
Necessary.
There was some part of him that felt like he needed to prove something to Cora and to himself. But what, exactly? That he could move forward? That he wasn’t just the funny guy with no substance? That he was capable of a life built on more than taking things day by day?
He shut the swirling thoughts out and focused on the feel of Cora’s lips on his, on the way her hands curled into his T-shirt and the way