Page 101 of In Step

I stopped thinking and simply let him take me with him, his hand reaching under my thigh to lift me high, turning and releasing, angling me this way and that, dipping and sliding. But always with his lips at my ear, his breath hot on my throat, his heartbeat against mine, both our eyes shuttered closed. Conversation crowded around, Spanish, the heat of bodies on the dancefloor, and always, always the music.

Abe was making love to me, nothing surer, and my body responded as it always did. I fell into that place where only he and I existed, serenaded by the siren call of the music, the salt on the air, and the feel of our bare feet on the wet sand.

And we danced.

We danced until our bodies demanded more. We fell onto the blanket, stripped one another slowly, and made love, taking our time as the dancing reds and golds of the bonfire painted our slick flesh until we came undone in each other’s arms, high on needy groans and tender whispers of affection.

And then, sated and content, we scrambled back into our clothes and huddled under the blankets, wrapped tight around each other in the flickering firelight, talking of anything and everything and nothing at all. And when the fire died and goose bumps stole over our bodies, we headed back up to the bedsit, showered, and crawled into bed with Bossy while Possum watched on from a distance, still wary about getting too close.

“I... I got you something.” I smiled at the surprise on his face. “I hope that’s okay. I know we said no promises, and it’s nothing like that. It’s just something small. A memory, if you like.” Heat roared in my face. “Shit. It was probably a stupid idea. I just thought—”

He cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my lips. “I love that you got me something. And I’m kinda glad because I got you something too.”

“Really?” I whooshed out a sigh of relief.

“You first.” He grinned and scooted up the bed.

“It’s really nothing.” I retrieved the package from my bedside table and gave it to Abe to open.

He ripped the paper off and opened the small, nondescript box with the utmost care, gasping with delight as he held the small cut-glass perfume bottle up to the light.

“It’s beautiful.” He blinked slowly, his eyes suspiciously shiny as they met mine. “How did you know?”

I shrugged. “Jam mentioned you collected them. And that’s sand from Painted Bay.” I nodded to the contents. “I actually collected it not far from where we were tonight. I hope you don’t get into trouble with customs.”

“I’ll risk it. Come here.” He pulled me close for a leisurely kiss. “And I love it.” He reached under his side of the bed—his side—the thought hit me with a pang of sadness as he pulled out a white paper bag with Painted Bay Pharmacy printed on the side. “This is for you.”

I arched a brow and he shrugged. “It was kind of last minute.”

“As long as it’s not lube, because that would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

He laughed. “I promise it’s not lube.”

I opened the bag and pulled out... a stethoscope.Oh god.My gaze shot to his, my throat thick with emotion, and his brow immediately creased with worry.

“If it’s the wrong thing, you can change it. It’s for—”

“The vet job, I know.” I launched myself at him, kissing him soundly. “It’s perfect, Abe. Just perfect.”

He blushed. “It’s for your new life and maybe your training, if you decide to go that far. I wanted to give you something you’d have in your hands every day, something to remind you of me. Selfish, I know.”

“No, not selfish at all.” I put the stethoscope aside and crawled on top of him. “But I don’t need a reminder, Abe. Regardless of what happens, you will always have a place in my heart.”

He wrapped his arms around me, rolled us both to our sides, and then kissed me until he fell asleep. Sometime around three in the morning, four hours before his plane was due to leave from Whangarei for Auckland international airport, I gave up on getting any sleep myself and watched the moonlight wash over Abe’s body instead, the shadows moving with the soft rise and fall of his chest as he lay in my arms.

He seemed more peaceful, more serene than when he’d arrived in Painted Bay, and I supposed that was something. He’d lost some of that frenetic energy.ThisAbe, the Abe of the last few weeks, was a softer version of that other Abe. Not that the difference necessarily meant anything, except that this wasmyAbe and I’d hold that in my heart.

The other Abe no doubt missed the bright lights, the frantic pace, and the constant moving around, and Painted Bay might’ve been nothing more than a bit of much needed R and R. He’d warned me at the start that he wasn’t a small-town guy. He’d been desperate to leave Reefton as a kid, and Painted Bay was even smaller. The chances of us having any future together were slim at best, and the sooner I got on board with that, the better.

I settled my cheek against his chest and drank in his scent and the warmth of his body. His arm slid around my waist and pulled me close, his lips in my hair.

“I love you, Kane.”

I swallowed hard and let the tears come where he wouldn’t see them. “I love you too.”

And when morning came, we exchanged lazy blowjobs in the shower, the water washing any tears into the drain along with my heart. Then we showered and dressed and drove to the airport almost in silence, Abe’s hand wrapped around mine all the way.

We’d agreed I wouldn’t stay to wave him off—neither of us into quite that level of masochism. Instead, we settled for hugs in the car park and kisses that refused to end until finally, I let him go.

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