Page 22 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

Willow blinked, like he’d caught her off-guard with a look.

Chance held her gaze. “You okay?”

She licked her lips. “Sure was a mess out there.”

“Yeah.” He cracked a grin at her. “We handled it.”

“You handled it. I was just your … lackey.”

His expression split into a grin.

Willow smiled and lowered her voice. “By the way, cowboy, if the goal was to prove you can lead, even when dinner is floating away in a flood …”

“Nailed it, didn’t I?”

She looked up at him, her eyelashes glistening, a conciliatory smile on her mouth. “You did,” she said. “You really did.”

Outside, rain pounded against glass, while inside a fire crackled in the hearth, cared-for guests chattered in low voices, and a bustling kitchen kept the party going. For his part, Ace snoozed in his chair, oblivious to the adrenaline rush still surging through his insides.

And then … the reality of what had occurred tonight hit Chance like a blow torch. The unplanned-for storm. Faulty infrastructure. Chaos. And now, everyone lounging around like this was normal. Like this night ended the way it was meant to.

If that were so, why did he suddenly feel the threat of suffocation?

Willow turned before heading to the kitchen, and once again, their gazes met. She leaned toward him, as if to ask him something, but he turned away and strode out of the room without a word.

ChapterFive

At dawn the next morning, Willow slipped out of her cottage and into “Lucille.” She rolled by the main house, which showed no sign of stirring. But, just in case, she’d set the timer on the coffee pot and placed a basket of rolls and scones on the island.

The kitchen could wait an hour or so, giving her an opportunity to think. And breathe. The cleanup, the meeting with her mother’s parole officer, well, there would be plenty to face when she returned.

She wound her way down the hill, past walnut and oak trees, their long limbs stretching across the road. The town still slumbered as she rolled by, until down the winding hill, the view gave way to open ocean.

Minutes later, she pulled into a spot at the curb and watched as day broke from the east, casting a golden glow across the water.

She let out a sigh. Despite the stress of her mother’s situation—and condition—and the absolute anarchy from last night’s storm, her lungs relaxed. The sound of the sea filled her mind, replacing the quiet and steadiness of the mountains.

Despite the worries, how fortunate was she? To live this close to the sea, but be able to fall asleep listening to mountain birds and the sway of trees outside her small cottage.

The contrast had not escaped her. While the mountains provided quiet and steadiness, the sea rolled and danced. The salt air cleansed the air around her, and the rushing sound of the waves?

Healing.

Until that first breath of briny oxygen had hit her lungs, Willow had not realized just how wound up she had been. Tension melted out of her. The intense week of preparation she’d just endured, followed by last night’s sudden earthquake and storm … she shook her head. Was it all just a dream?

And yet, somehow, all the pieces and loose ends, the detour from careful execution to a mad scramble, had all come together. Adrenaline had a way of making the mind forget that all you want to do is crawl into bed and swaddle in the covers.

She sank into deep sand on a natural dune just above the shoreline. A wave rolled onto wet sand. Last night, guests had hunkered down in the great room, eating, mingling, and some dozing. Eli entertained with his jokes. Rafael and Bella, who could’ve escaped to their cabin, didn’t. Instead, Bella chatted with guests with little Seabiscuit peeking out of her front pouch, while Rafael stoked the fire, making sure the place was as inviting as it was warm.

And Chance.

She bit back a smile, remembering how he stepped up. Steady, sure, undeterred … and, oh, he smelled so good through all of it. Like smoke and vanilla and hard work. No complaints, just his presence—and his gaze.

Theirs had collided more than once. Was it the frenzy of night that had caused the ripple running through her whenever they’d caught eyes?

The tiny smile on her face dimmed with the turn of her thoughts. If it weren’t for his sudden change of mood at the end of the evening, she might have thought … well, she wondered what had been on his mind before then.

She hugged her knees to her chest, watching that golden glow from behind her spread across the water. Waves crested, rolled, then quietly stretched their way toward her. In the distance, a lone surfer paddled further out where the waves began their rise. It took him a few tries, but eventually he caught something rideable, carving a clean line toward the shore.

---