A Season of You

by Emma Douglas

  “I need a ride down to the station,” Mina said as she reached for her bag.

  Right. Her car was at the cottage. He’d have to do something about that, later. “I’ll take you,” he said. He slid out of the booth, grabbing the jacket he’d discarded over the back of the booth and fishing in the pocket for his wallet.

  “Go.” Caleb waved him off. “This one’s on us.”

  Faith was nodding beside him. “We’ll get Stewie when we go home. Go.”

  Mina apparently didn’t need to wait to hear anything else. She was heading back toward the door as he was shrugging on his coat. He caught up to her as she reached Lulu.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I guess this wasn’t quite what you had in mind for this afternoon.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” he said as he unlocked the door for her. “This is your job. We got to hang out.” He only waited long enough for Mina to fasten her seat belt before he backed Lulu out of the diner’s lot and pointed her nose toward the road down to the harbor. The tires slid a little on the wet gravel at the side of the asphalt and he eased back slightly. Mina needed to get there in one piece. Unlike the last time she’d gone out in a storm. The light was fading rapidly now. Soon it would be as dark as the night of her accident. And she was heading out to sea. That felt far more dangerous than driving her car.

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked before he could think.

  She’d been staring out the windshield, leaning a little forward as if urging the car to go faster. But that brought her head around. She was frowning again. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m sure no one would blame you if you said you weren’t,” Will said, glancing at her sideways. He needed to focus on the road in this weather but he wanted to see her face. Make sure she was telling the truth.

  Her head tilted. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “This is what we train for, Will. I’ve done this before. It will be okay.”

  He clamped his mouth shut on the automatic “That’s easy for you to say” that rose in his throat. Bringing up the fact that what she was about to do was dangerous felt like tempting the gods somehow. And Mina knew well enough how fate could turn on a dime.

  So did he. So all he could do now was let her go do her damn job.

  And hope she made it back to him in one piece.

  Because driving through the rain, fear chilling his veins, he knew that he had no idea what he’d do if she didn’t.

  chapter sixteen

  Mina fought a battle with her eyelids as she steered the Jeep the last few hundred feet of her drive. Earlier, she’d been cold, wet and buzzed, buoyed by the excitement of a successful rescue. Now she was cold and exhausted, the adrenaline drop that had hit her halfway home leaving her longing for sleep. She’d turned down the Jeep’s heating, hoping the cold air would keep her awake long enough to reach her bed. The rain hadn’t really eased up since she’d left the diner and she had tried to be careful making the drive back around the island. Not easy when her body was fighting her.

  Nearly there.

  Shower. Bed. Sleep. The three words were a mantra in her head but they vanished as her headlights illuminated the unmistakable shape of Lulu parked outside her cottage.

  Will? What was Will doing here?

  Some of the fatigue lifted as another wave of adrenaline hit.

  She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or worry and didn’t have time to make up her mind. Will was at the Jeep door before she’d even cut the engine.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded, pulling the door open.

  “What are you doing here?” she said, still surprised. Will was rapidly getting soaked and she shoved at him gently. “Let me out.”

  “Are you okay?” he repeated. But he stepped back to give her room.

  She climbed out of the car. Will’s arms came around her. Hard.

  “Will, you’re kind of squashing me,” she said. “I’m okay, honest.”

  The pressure around her ribs eased. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Things got a little hairy at one point but—” She stopped. It was kind of hard to tell in the rainy darkness, but Will looked suddenly pale. “I’m fine. Let’s go inside.”

  She grabbed her purse off the backseat. Her backpack full of gear sitting in the back compartment could wait until she figured out what was going on with Will.

  He didn’t say anything as they made the short dash to the cottage and she let them in. By the time she’d turned on the lights, turned up the heat, and put the kettle on the stove to make tea, he still hadn’t said anything. But he watched her every second, as though he was worried she might just vanish. His skin was definitely a couple of shades lighter than its usual healthy tan.

  She pulled down mugs and peppermint tea. It didn’t seem as though caffeine was likely to help the situation. “Take off your coat, I’ll get you a towel for your hair.” He didn’t even seem to have noticed he was soaked.

  He had removed his coat by the time she returned and had moved to stand near the kettle, watching it instead of her.

  “A watched kettle never boils,” she quipped, passing him the towel.

  As if to prove her wrong the kettle started to whistle as Will lifted the towel and rubbed it through his hair, leaving it spiked up in all directions.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked as she poured the water into the mugs.

  “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. So I came over.”

  That seemed like more than just wanting to know she was okay. She jiggled the tea bag in her mug. “You seem kind of freaked out.”

  “You were out on the ocean in a middle of a storm.”

  “With a highly trained team. Doing our jobs.” she pointed out, keeping her voice gentle. He was clearly freaked out, even though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

  Will frowned. “Yeah, well, your job kind of sucks.”

  “Excuse me? Search and rescue sucks?”

  “Putting yourself in danger sucks.” Will shuddered and took a mouthful of tea. Then pulled a face and put it down.

  The shiver brought back an image of him staring down at the ocean from the cliffs near Shane’s house at Thanksgiving. O-kay. So he hadn’t been kidding about the not liking water part.

  “I wasn’t in danger,” she said softly. “But we saved three people tonight who were.”

  “If they were in danger, weren’t you in danger?” he said hotly.

  “No. We were in boats that hadn’t broken down. We had the ability to call for backup. There are risks involved in what we do but they’re well-controlled risks. This isn’t even particularly bad weather.” She’d seen much worse. Not often, and tonight had been nasty enough, but she wasn’t going to tell Will that. “So do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “No,” he said and pulled her to him and kissed her. A kiss part anger, part fear, part hunger. A kiss that chased the last of the chill from her bones and instead lit a fire that sent a glow straight through her. For a minute or so she gave into it, gave him what he wanted. Proved to him she was still right there. And then she broke away.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work,” she said, moving around the counter.

  “Felt like it worked just fine to me,” Will said. He wasn’t pale now and his eyes had turned the darker green she was coming to know so well.

  “I liked it too. But I’d also like to know what’s going on with you.”

  “Maybe I’m just not used to dat—projecting with—someone with a risky job.”

  It was possible. But she didn’t think that was exactly the problem here. “I’ve been around boats and the ocean my whole life. I know what I’m doing. So for the duration of our … project, you’re going to have to be okay with it. You know, I could take you down to the station tomorrow, show you how it all works. Even take you out on the—”

  “No!” The denial came too quickly t
o have come from anywhere but deep in his gut.

  “Will, talk to me,” she said. “You told me at Thanksgiving that you didn’t like the water. You didn’t tell me why.”

  “The first time I ever went on a boat, my best friend died,” he said. “I was twelve. So was he. We went to stay for a week with his grandparents in Maine and we went out on a boat and”—he took a shuddering breath—“there was a storm. He got swept away.”

  “Oh, Will.”

  He looked haunted. She knew how he felt. Losses grew easier over time perhaps but they didn’t leave you. “That must have been horrible for you.”

  “It was,” he said. “For a long time, I felt like it was my fault.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought he made his grandpa take us out to show off to me.” He shook himself, like he was trying to cast off the memory.

  “But that wasn’t true, right? And it wouldn’t have been your fault even if it was.”

  “No. Doesn’t mean it didn’t feel true. People think all sorts of odd things when they’re grieving.” He leaned his hands on the counter, slumping slightly.

  Was that aimed at her? She hesitated, trying to read him. His voice had sounded almost absent, so maybe not. “So let me guess, you haven’t really been sailing since then?”

  “My rule is nothing smaller than a ferry.” He glanced down at his hands.

  “Which once again forces me to wonder what you’re doing living on an island?”

  He looked up. “Because there’s no point letting fear run your life. Then it wins.”

  Once again she felt like he was talking about something more than just tonight. But if he was, they were wading into an area she wasn’t ready to discuss.

  “But in that case, you shouldn’t have been so worried.”

  “I said I didn’t let fear run my life. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel it sometimes.” One side of his mouth lifted. “So do you want to come back over to this side of the counter? See what we can do to take my mind off it?”

  “Oh, so I’m good for a distraction, am I?” She tried to sound indignant, but it was hard to resist the man.

  “You’re good for more than that,” he said. “Much more. But right now, a distraction is what I need. And I can’t think of anything better than losing myself in you.” He crooked his finger, beckoning her toward him. Toward temptation.

  She’d always thought she was pretty good at resisting temptation. Grey’s friends—even Grey himself—had been a lesson in what happened if you gave into it too often. But apparently Will was the Achilles’ heel she hadn’t known she had. Her feet moved of their own volition, finding their way back to him like a compass seeking north.

  Will’s hands found her with the same certainty, pulling her into him. This time the kiss was just hunger, reigniting what they’d started earlier with a speed that was startling. She tried to get closer to him, hooking a leg around his thigh, and in response he lifted her onto the counter, settling between her legs, one hand curving around her thigh to coax up around his hip. God. That felt good. When she arched into him, felt the warmth and hardness meet her, all she wanted was more. More Will. More everything.

  More everything required less clothes. She fisted her hands into the back of his shirt, yanking it upward. Will got the message fast and started working on her sweater, pulling it up and over her head. The layers of shirts and thermals she wore beneath it vanished in rapid succession. Her bra was one of the boring black ones she kept in her gear bag, but that didn’t seem to bother Will. No, he looked at her like she was decked out in silk and lace and then simply tugged the cup down and fastened his mouth over her nipple.

  She’d thought she’d warmed up, but his mouth was hot on her skin, seeking and teasing, the sensation on the edge of pain. She found his left hand, brought it to her other breast then used the last few fleeting seconds of brain power before she went mindless to undo the bra so it could fall away. After that, she couldn’t think of anything but Will. She braced herself on arms that felt distinctly wobbly and let her head fall back, giving into the sensations. Will didn’t let her catch her breath, his hands and lips working her into a rapidly melting puddle of delighted woman.

  “Lie back, baby,” he urged. She didn’t hesitate to obey. After all, he was doing such a good job that it seemed stupid to do anything else. She lifted her hips as he undid her jeans, wriggling a little to help him ease them free.

  Part of her was dimly aware that she was lying naked on her counter, that her curtains were open. But this was private property and Faith and Caleb, who were the two closest human beings, would be tucked up in bed. And really, right at this moment, as Will eased her legs open, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to bring herself to make him stop even if there was an audience.

  “So pretty,” Will murmured, his thumb pressing into her clit, making her hips buck toward him. Apparently that was an invitation, because the next moment his thumb was gone and instead his tongue moved slowly across her. This time she moaned. Then she might have begged as he did it again. The man had skills. How did he know her body so well already?

  How did she know his? Even with her eyes closed, she could picture him as her hands slid over muscle and skin, finding the lines of his body. Knew that she could reach for a pencil and draw those lines as easily as she could write her name. Like the shape of him had slid under her skin and into her memories. Burned there with heat and pleasure. Every time he touched her, it only deepened the effect.

  Right now, his mouth was making her mindless. She wasn’t sure she would remember her own name, but she was certain she wouldn’t forget his.

  “Will,” she said, half breath, half plea.

  “Not yet.” His voice was muffled but certain. The sound vibrated over very sensitive skin, making her forget what she was asking for.

  “I want you like this first. Want to feel you come apart.”

  God. She wanted that too. Her body took over, rising to meet each stroke of his tongue.

  “That’s it,” he said fiercely. His hands pushed her legs wider and then his tongue was joined by fingers, sliding into her, stroking her, the doubled sensation wonderful and terrible. She wanted to hold on and let go. Afraid to do either. Not entirely sure if she let go at this point that there’d be anything left of her to come back.

  But what a way to go.

  And Will, it seemed, was determined to make sure she got there. He kept up the torment, pushing her closer to the edge. Until she was teetering there, feeling the orgasm waiting for her, endless and deep, waiting for her to drop into it, as easily as diving into the ocean. But she didn’t want to give up the pleasure for the release. Not just yet. Even knowing what waited for her on the other side, she hesitated, like a diver curling her toes onto the edge of the board, letting the anticipation build. Until finally the urge to fall was just too strong and she had to let go, had to give in to what he wanted and let herself come, knowing that he was waiting there, strong and sure to catch her on the other side.

  * * *

  Will had done more than catch her. He’d picked her up, carried her off to bed and made love to her twice more. Adrenaline. Will might have come up with her new favorite way to work it off.

  Still, now he was still asleep—understandably when it had been after five when they’d finally fallen asleep and it was only half past seven—and she was awake. Awake and still unable to get his reaction out of her head.

  Lying here worrying about it, however, wasn’t going to help. If Will was more involved than he should be, there was nothing she could do about it. At least, nothing right now. But she couldn’t just lie here. Sleep didn’t seem to be an option—she’d been trying for thirty minutes to fall back asleep.

  If Stewie had been here rather than at Faith’s, she’d take him for a walk and come back before Will woke.

  Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea. It was Sunday, so Faith didn’t have to go to work, but there was no need for her or Caleb to have to ge
t up early to walk Stewie if Mina could get there first and bring him home.

  Either the walk would wake her up properly or distract her enough that she’d be able to sleep again when she got back.

  It didn’t take long to slip out of bed, find clothes, and creep out of the room. Will was sleeping the sleep of the well-satisfied male and barely stirred. She closed the door behind her and headed outside.

  The storm had finally cleared and the sky was a sharp winter blue, the sun bright even at this early hour. It wasn’t nearly as cold as the previous day either. Typical. The day she wasn’t going to spend several hours playing with wet sand was the one with the nice weather.

  But the morning was so pretty, the sun making all the surfaces newly washed by the rain shine and sparkle, that she decided to walk along the beach and cut back up to the main house farther up rather than go through the gardens. It was the longer way but that would give her time to clear her head.

  She took the fork in the path toward the beach, letting her mind wander.

  Maybe she could raid Faith’s fridge for breakfast supplies. She wasn’t entirely sure what was in hers. Having spent all her free time during the week painting, she’d been eating thrown-together meals made from whatever had been in the fridge and pantry without paying much attention and really couldn’t have said what might still be left. She’d been planning a grocery store run after the snowman competition, but that hadn’t happened.

  Faith however, was bound to have something she could steal to cook for Will. Eggs. Bacon. Bread for toast. Frozen waffles. She’d take what she could get.

  Her stomach growled agreement and she quickened her pace. Will wasn’t the only one who’d worked up an appetite.

  But when she came around the headland, a happy bark startled her and she looked up to see Faith and Stewie playing fetch a few hundred feet down the beach.

  Stewie must have caught her scent or something because he came barreling along the sand toward her, doggie smile stretched awkwardly by the tennis ball held in his mouth.

  He danced around her when he reached her, spitting out the ball so he could try to lick her face. She bent down to hug him. Big goofus.