Rogue Wave, Isabel Jolie [ink ebook reader .TXT] 📗

try. I just…why would you even, at your age, want to date a guy like me? With a thirteen-year-old adopted daughter? Stop and think about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to date a guy like you? Look at what you’ve done with your life. You’ve devoted years to stopping illegal fishing practices in areas of the world where almost no one else gives a damn. You’ve helped women who couldn’t get access to the medical care they needed. You adopted a stranger because you knew she was in a dangerous place. And now, Poppy spoke to Gabe. She told me what you’re doing now as a lobbyist.”

“Those are all reasons to want to work with me, not date me. I’m more than willing to write you a stellar recommendation for your next job, or graduate school.”

I clenched my fists in my coat pockets and looked out over the ocean and up into the constellations.

“Okay. You want to know why I want to date you? My dad always told me I should find a guy who gave me butterflies and who shares my passions. You do that for me. Not that it matters. But, with you, I feel more.” I could have gone on and said more, but my cheeks burned. Embarrassment choked my words. He’d made it clear he didn’t feel the same.

“Did you feel more on your date the other night?”

“What date?”

“I saw you walking into the Shoals Club for dinner.” He buried his toes in the sand.

“It wasn’t a date.”

“He seemed interested,” he said, skeptical.

I huffed. “No. Not a date. Work.”

He puckered his lips thoughtfully then took a couple of steps forward. I followed along, and he pointed into the night. “See those bright stars? The ones that are a little brighter than the others? It looks like a W? Or an M?”

A million tiny pricks of light hovered far above. I didn’t see a letter, and I didn’t feel like hunting for constellations. “Yes, I see it,” I lied.

“It’s Cassiopeia. Have you heard that story?”

“It’s the one where she’s super vain and gets thrown up to the stars as punishment by Zeus’s wife. And Cepheus loves her so, and begs Zeus to be thrown up with her, and he does.” I’d spent enough time under the night sky to have heard a good number of stories about the stars.

“Those stars there…that’s Cepheus.” He pointed into the sky, but I gazed at the ship, anchored across the way, its light brighter than any of the stars above. Tate continued. “His wife, Cassiopeia, wasn’t perfect, but he loved her so much. And now they spend an eternity together, in love.”

For me, the beauty of the night sky lay in the collective whole, not in attempting to piece together bright spots and historic designs. I did not understand how my conversation with Tate turned into a constellation discussion but had no desire to continue talking about the stars.

“Thanks for dinner.”

He reached out, and I stepped back, out of his grasp. I couldn’t bear his touch, not when he didn’t want me. “See you later.”

“I’ll walk you home.” He gave the offshore floating light one more thoughtful glance before guiding me up the trail to my place.

Chapter 29

Tate

When we arrived at her cottage, she turned to face me on her front doorstep. This was where a friend would say goodnight. She fidgeted with the strap on her pocketbook. The moonlight reflected on her golden strands and cast an opalescent glow.

“Good night.” I didn’t move away. She leaned closer. I pressed my hand against the door, caging her in, surrounding her. Her honey brown eyes darkened to a mahogany in the shadow. The eyes I never wanted to forget. The familiar light scent of coconut wafted through the breeze. I bent closer, breathing her in. She remained still, but her chest lifted and fell at a more rapid pace. I hovered over her, the inches between us serving as a barrier between what I should do and what I wanted. Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip, leaving a sheen over the full pink curve.

“God, Luna, I’ve missed you.”

Her palm pressed against my chest, holding me away.

“Really?” The whispered question cut across the winter night. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Those dark eyes met mine, and her fingers grazed my jaw with a light touch. My restraint snapped.

My mouth claimed hers. Familiar and warm. I kissed her slowly, remembering. My heart pounded, and my body quivered, as emotion I’d locked down leaked through the cracks.

A frantic urgency swept over us. She tugged at my sweater and explored beneath it, roaming over my bare chest, the winter air nipping the exposed skin. I lifted her shirt and tweaked her nipple, and it hardened beneath my touch. We couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t bare enough.

She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pressed her against the wall, dry humping her like a horny teenager until the squawk of a nearby seagull reminded me how exposed we both were. I reached down for the doorknob, and we tumbled inside.

I kicked the door closed as she lifted her sweater and threw it across the room. I followed suit, then began unbuttoning my jeans, eager to be free of them. She did the same. I paused, taking her in. She stood before me in white silk panties and nothing else. The moonlight coated her skin. The lines of her flat, smooth belly were accented by night shadows. Her nipples peaked above the pearly curve of her breasts and her hair cascaded down her shoulders, wild and unkempt. She was gorgeous and wild, and a better man my age would stay away.

I stalked toward her, intent on claiming her as mine. Screw being right. I angled her head up, my fingers tangled in her hair, and kissed her. As our tongues tangled, she gripped my cock, and the unexpected touch and pleasure almost sent me over the edge. I groaned, breaking our kiss, as the base of