Page 34 of Shades of You

When he bent to pack up his gear, his shirt collar shifted to reveal a sliver of inked skin. Curiosity flared within me. Why was he so casual about that spectacular body? “I don’t remember you being so bashful. How come you’ve kept your shirt on the whole time? Most guys with muscles like that would be strutting all over the beach.”

He shifted, and the ghost of a tattoo disappeared, to my disappointment. “Just protecting myself from the sun,” he answered flatly, but his nonchalance didn’t mask his tight voice. Yet another mystery to this man—there was more to this story too. Which only served to remind me that I didn’t want this day to end. Not yet. And spending the morning with him made me realize something else. I didn’t want to be his friend.

I wanted to be so much more.

So I searched about for a topic of conversation. “Speaking of protection, my security system’s been acting up, or my shop is haunted. One of the cameras keeps sending me ghost alerts.”

“The camera angle and width of field probably need adjustment. I can take a look at it for you.”

“That would be great. And how about lunch? I’ve got sandwiches in my apartment.” It was an excuse to keep us together, and I was sure we both knew it.

“Lead the way,” he said, and there was no mistaking the current running between us. As we drove back to my place, anticipation built within me like a storm. I wanted Hunter Markham. All of him. And to hell with the fallout.

Back in my shop,Hunter’s fingers danced across the screen of my phone. “There,” he said as he handed it back to me. “I adjusted the camera and the settings, so you shouldn’t get any more false alerts.”

“Thanks. I’m sure that will take care of it.” I gave him a smile that hopefully masked the butterflies dancing in my stomach. “Diving always makes me starved. Let’s eat.”

I led the way up the staircase to the cozy living space above my bookshop. We settled in at my small dining table where I laid out the deli sandwiches I’d picked up yesterday. Turkey and Swiss on rye for him, ham and sprouts on whole wheat for me, nestled next to a bowl of fresh fruit salad.

My nerves didn’t dissipate as we ate, and I searched for something to discuss. There was so much I didn’t know about him. “So tell me about life in the Marines.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “It was intense,” he said, his voice taking on a distant quality. “I was a Marine Raider, and it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Lots of training, lots of missions that weren’t… your average active duty.” His shoulders tensed, the lines around his eyes deepening at distant memories. Or maybe not so distant.

“Sounds tough,” I said gently, not wanting to press too hard.

“Yeah. A lot of it was routine training, but other parts were dicey.” He cleared his throat. “What about you and Knox? Were you two serious?”

A laugh escaped me at the absurdity of that thought. “No. We dated for five months, but we didn’t have much in common. Though it took me long enough to realize that. He’s probably the only person on this island who doesn’tlike the ocean. And my other relationships in the past all kind of fizzled out.”

He regarded me with hooded eyes. “You’re better off without him, you know.”

“No argument there.” I scooped up a forkful of salad.

As we ate, silence settled around us. The room seemed to shrink, the heat not entirely due to the afternoon sun. I couldn’t help but watch Hunter, the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the neat trim of his dark beard. My heart thrummed as I remembered the feel of that hair brushing against my jaw.

I wiped the corner of my mouth with my napkin. “How’s your sandwich?”

He nodded, swallowing. “Good—thanks for thinking of this.”

As we finished lunch, we discussed my shop, and I couldn’t help feeling that my past sounded boring and uneventful compared to his. When I said so out loud, Hunter just stared at me, wide-eyed.

“Brenna, you’re a huge success and your bookshop is absolutely perfect. You’ve accomplished a lot more than I have in the past decade.”

My chest warmed at his praise, but I shook my head. “Hardly. But I’m glad you’re back.”

My breath stilled as his dark eyes stared straight into me. “So am I.”

As we finished, I tried not to be acutely conscious of every move he made. Then I brought over a slice of cheesecake for us to share for dessert. Leaning over, I forked a bite, enjoying the creamy, sweet texture. It was a sharp contrast to the heat from his gaze that felt like the sun itself.

“You know more about me than I do about you,” I said. “Have you ever been married? You know, during all that time away?”

His face took on that guarded look as he shook his head. “Not even close.” There was an undercurrent to him now that wasn’t his usual reticence.

“No serious relationships? Have you ever been in love?” I held my breath. It was a bold question, but curiosity was burning through me.

Hunter set down his can of soda, his eyes locking onto mine for a split second before darting away. His jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his damp hair—a move I’d come to recognize as him grappling with inner turmoil.

“Once,” he admitted, his voice rough like gravel. “But it… didn’t work out.”

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