Page 101 of Fault Line

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He presses me even closer, his hips slotting into the perfect space against mine.

“Anything specific I need to do to prepare?”

“Not that I can think of,” he says, his voice husky as he grips my chin, pulling me in for another passionate kiss, one hand still firmly grasped onto my ass. When he finally pulls back, he looks into my eyes and says, “Just be ready for anything, baby.”

36

HOLDEN

I’ve plannedthe entire day for us out at the cape, ensuring that everything will be absolutely perfect. I’ve been wanting to take her back to the lighthouse for ages, not just for the nostalgia factor but also because it’s the place where she first opened up to me.

The place where I felt the tiniest crack in her armor and started to work my way inside.

I pack snacks and blankets, making sure we have enough to keep us comfortable throughout the day. Once everything is ready, I pick her up from her apartment, and we set off to Bluewater together.

As we drive, she leans over to sneak a peek at the contents of our bag. I swat her hand away, grinning over at her. “You’ll see soon enough.”

She huffs but settles back into her seat, a teasing smile dancing on her lips. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

I chuckle. “You have no idea.”

When we arrive, her pretty eyes light up, shimmering in the sunlight like flecks of gold on the beachfront. We make our way to the lighthouse, the brisk air hitting us as we walk. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close to rub some warmth back into her body.

Once we reach the top, I lay out the blankets and unpack our snacks—some peppermint candy for me, Cheetos and popcorn for my girl.

She takes a seat beside me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, what’s the big plan for today?”

I pull out a deck of cards, a smirk spreading across my face. “We’re going to play a few rounds of blackjack.”

She raises a curious brow. “Really? Why?”

“Because,” I say, shuffling the deck. “It’s what I was playing when you first decided to give me another shot. I left in the middle of my monthly poker game with the boys and booked it over to your apartment. Since then, I haven’t been able to get the taste of you, the feel of you, out of my fucking head. It’s only fair you play against me now.”

She laughs, a warm sound that echoes in the empty room. “Okay, Becker. You’re on.”

We dive into the game, our competitive spirits going head-to-head with each passing round. There’s a stack of chips between us, and the game is surprisingly even. But as time continues to pass, we become more immersed in the contest, each determined to outwit the other.

“Hit me,” she says, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to beat her in this round.

I draw a card and place it in front of her. “You sure about that? Looks like you might bust.”

She smirks back at me, undeterred. “I like to live on the edge.”

As the game continues, our playful teasing escalates. Every winning hand is accompanied by a suggestive comment or lingering touch.

“Feeling confident, are we?” I ask, noticing her stack of chips growing.

She leans in, lips brushing against my ear. “Oh, I already know I can beat you.”

Her breath sends shivers down my spine, and I lick my lips, grinning at her version of smack talk. “We’ll see about that.”

We play on, the sun setting outside the lighthouse windows, casting a warm, orange glow over the space between us. Our rivalry never fades, but the only thing I can think about is how good this all feels—to be with her here, carefree and so fucking happy.

During a brief break between games, I pull her into my arms, our bodies pressed together as we share a soft, lingering kiss.

“I’m really glad we did this,” I murmur against her lips.

“Me too,” she whispers, her eyes filled with warmth.

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