Page 64 of Shades of You

I pressed my lips against his in a kiss that was meant to reassure as much as ignite passion. It was a plea for him to let go of his worries and focus on us—on what we could be together.

Hunter’s arms snaked around my waist, pulling me hard against his body. Softening his lips against mine, he deepened the kiss. I gasped as his hand found its way into my hair, his fingers tangling in the locks as he held me close. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. A low growl rumbled from him as I opened my mouth to let him in. The deeply male sound vibrated through me and sent a jolt of desire straight to my core. My hands slid up his muscled back, tracing the contours of his broad shoulders before coming to rest on the nape of his neck.

“Come upstairs,” I murmured against his lips.

He groaned, hauling me tight against the hard plane of his chest. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Then he was leading me by the hand up the stairs to my apartment. And as the night wrapped around us like a cloak, I lost myself in his touch, his taste, the heady slide of his body against mine.

Tomorrow and all its thorny complications would come.

But tonight… Tonight was for us.

Chapter Thirty

Hunter

The jingleof Brenna’s keys mingled with the soft sounds of Bookshop in Paradise waking up. As I stood near the back door, I pocketed my phone after scrolling through the day’s itinerary. The biggest item was a new security system for a beachfront mansion. Around me, the bookshop unfurled its charm, shelves stocked with tales waiting to whisper secrets to whoever would listen. The air was rich with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and that unique perfume of new pages—a comforting aroma that somehow always managed to settle the restless parts of me.

“Leaving so soon?” Brenna’s voice was playful, dancing across the room to where I lingered.

“Got to pay the bills,” I replied. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be surrounded by stories all day.”

She moved closer with a sly grin. “Ah, but you forget… Where would stories come from without a little real-world excitement?”

In one fluid motion, I drew her into my arms and buriedmy nose in her soft hair. The scent of her tropical shampoo filled my senses but couldn’t distract me for long. I pulled away just enough to catch her gaze, hoping she didn’t notice the uneasiness that fluttered beneath my steady exterior.

“Excitement in my line of work is overrated. I’ll take a cup of your coffee to go, though.” I smirked, though it wasn’t the quality of the brew that weighed on my mind. I’d lain awake for much of last night while the cruise with my family ran through my head. Including my roaring desire, almost compulsion, to defend Brenna when I’d seen her talking to Evan and hadn’t known how he’d react. Fortunately, she’d given me that definitive nod, so I’d relaxed and let them be.

And what did that say about me?

All I’d wanted for years was to be close to Evan again. And a rush of protective energy had almost ruined everything. Evan hadn’t caused any problems, and Brenna hadn’t needed my protection. Which had led to hours of restlessness as I tried to figure out why she wanted to be with me.

Brenna’s laugh pulled me back to the present as she left my embrace to cross the floor. Her eyes sparkling with mischief, she unlocked the shop door and propped it open, beckoning the salty breeze. “Of course you want a cup. I make great coffee. One of these days, I’ll teach you my secret.”

“And will I get it before or after you introduce me to the rest of the Coleridge clan?” My question slipped out couched in jest, but it poked at the other tender spot I kept trying to ignore—the nagging fear that maybe I’d never fit into her world.

Her face became still as she paused across the room, her hands deftly straightening a display of local authors. “Soon.You know how important it is to me to move beyond all this strife. Which is why we need to be deliberate.”

“Sure.”

I poured myself a mug of coffee before leaning against the cool back wall. My phone chimed with a text, and I pulled it out to read the message from Garrett. But the words faded as my eyes became unfocused, the weight of my unvoiced worries pressing close. Brenna’s words were steel wrapped in velvet, and I wanted to believe them. But as the morning sun streamed through the open door, the tension inside me tightened. She and I wove a beautiful story together—her with her unwavering support, and me with my silent battles. If only I could shake the shadows of doubt long enough to fully step into the warmth.

Because that was something else that had kept me awake. What if this delay in meeting her family was a stalling tactic? What if Brenna agreed that I wasn’t what she needed, but she was working up to telling me? I shook my head slightly as I recalled our passionate night. If she was acting, she deserved an Academy Award.

Seeking distraction, I concentrated on my phone as Brenna opened a cardboard box of books and began stacking them on a shelf. Lost in a sea of texts from Myles and Garrett, I barely registered the familiar hum of the shop around me. It all blended into white noise as I leaned casually against the back wall. Until an unwelcome voice cut through my focus like a serrated knife.

“Hey, Brenna.”

I hadn’t heard that voice in a while, but I recognized it instantly. Every other sound around me disappeared as an icy shiver of déjà vu rocketed up my spine.

The voice was Knox’s.

I slid my phone into my pocket, and my spine stiffened.Easing off my heel, I moved closer, silent as a predator, though I stayed hidden behind a shelf lined with the latest romance bestsellers. My pulse hammered against my ribs, and each beat was a war drum as I weighed my options—whether to step out and confront him or hang back and observe. Marine training had never left me. It had seeped into my bones to become part of my DNA. I assessed angles, exits, and threats with clinical precision while a storm raged inside me.

Peering around the bookcase, I caught sight of him. Knox looked different—the kind of different that wasn’t just surface level. His hair was now cut short and neat, and he wore a crisp button-down shirt tucked into khakis. It was as if he’d shed his former self and stepped into someone new. I remembered my reaction last time. The raw, pulsing need to defend Brenna that had overtaken me, and I’d damn near turned the guy into a soprano. I was still fully capable of a repeat performance. Hell, part of me yearned for that.

Except things were different now. In many ways, I’d grown since that previous meeting. The shadows had retreated somewhat. Except for the biggest ones of all. Evan’s specter of forgiveness and the logical consequence of that—that Brenna deserved better than me.

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