idyll. Mythic and legendary, as if some gentle forest creature lived here. Holding, if just for an instant, the snapshot of utter peace and tranquility.
Her first time with Mike.
She didn’t know where their relationship was headed. If there would be more times or this was one special moment. Right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he drew her to him, kissed her softly, opened the door and welcomed her inside.
A few minutes later, after they fed Darynda’s German shepherds and let them outside into the fenced backyard, she curled up on his couch while Mike drifted into the kitchen to fetch them two beers.
She glanced around as if seeing his house for the first time, through a lover’s eyes. Inside, it was just as cute as the outside. Tidy, organized, rustic but with a touch of whimsy, just like Mike. The color scheme was black, white, and gunmetal gray with pops of vibrant red accents. Leather furniture, industrial light fixtures, nubby rug over hand-scraped dark wood flooring. Framed artwork of seascapes. A saltwater fish tank filled with colorful fish. On the bottom of the tank was an open treasure chest with a skeleton pirate popping out, grinning, and waving.
Gia smiled when she saw that.
Beside the fish tank sat a hand-carved sailing ship on a stand. The work was intricate, delicate, and she knew before she asked that Mike had done it even though it was nothing like the comfortable design of his furniture pieces. She reached for it, stroked her fingers over the bow, admired the artistry.
“You carved this?” she asked as he walked back into the living room and handed her a cold beer.
He looked sheepish, like he’d been indulging in a guilty pleasure. “It’s something I’ve been working on in my spare time. It’s not finished.”
“I didn’t know you did this kind of woodworking. It takes a fine hand.”
“Coming from a kite artisan like yourself, I consider that high praise.” He settled onto the couch beside her, his body heat seeping warmth into her. “I’ve missed you, G,” he murmured, setting his beer on the coffee table and giving her his full attention. “We’ve been so busy saving the inn we haven’t had much time together.”
She put the wooden ship back where she’d found it and took a sip of her beer, more out of nervousness than because she really wanted it.
She set down her beer and took his hand, traced the hard calluses on his palm. “Tell me about the first thing you ever made.”
“I’ve never told you this story?”
Gia shook her head.
“See this?” He held up his thumb to reveal a faint silvered scar at the base. “My first cut on my first project. My granddad gave me a pocketknife for my sixth birthday and showed me how to make my own slingshot.”
“I think your knife skills were pretty rudimentary.”
“Yep. I still have the slingshot, though. The nurse in the emergency room cleaned the blood off for me. My first woodworking mishap and my first stitches.”
“Oh, poor baby.” She brought his thumb to her mouth and kissed it.
Mike shivered. “You do dangerous things to me, woman.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t play coy, Gia Jasmine Clark.” He rested his arms across the back of the couch and his right ankle over his left knee. Spreading out.
“You remembered my middle name?”
“I heard Madison call it out enough when she was ticked off at you.”
“You know everything about me,” she said. “Where’s the mystery?”
“Not everything.” He lowered his voice and his eyelids and leaned in to kiss her. “There’s the whole Japan thing. I have no idea what went on there.”
“I ate a lot of fish and seaweed.”
“And wasabi, too, apparently.”
“I’ve gotten a little spicier as I’ve gotten older.”
“Hmm.” He kissed her again. “Wasabi at twenty-three? What’s left for your thirties? Habanero?”
“You’ll have to stick around and find out.”
“I’m a Moonglow Cove man. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Plan on spending your life beachcombing and making furniture?”
“I do.”
She peered into his eyes. “Sounds like heaven to me.”
“You’re easy to please.”
“You say that now.” She grinned. “Just wait.”
“Now you’ve got my hopes up.” His hot lips branded her with a long, deep, dizzying kiss.
“What are you hoping for?”
“To please you.”
“Hey, wait, aren’t you the one who’s always preaching please yourself?”
“That advice is exclusively for you. Most people please themselves too much without regard for others. You, on the other hand, take other people’s opinions too much to heart.”
“I’m working on it.”
“I can tell. That’s why my aim is to please you. To