Page 69 of Bracing The Storm

“Dive right in. I also brought a little something to help warm you up.”

Like I’d need more of that in his presence.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and holds up a bottle of red and two wine glasses. Judging from the label, it looks expensive but I wouldn’t know because I’m not much of a wine drinker.

At Patrick’s encouraging nod, I start to eat in silence. I finish my sandwich in a few bites while he busies himself with openingthe bottle and pouring its contents into the glasses, then hands me one.

“This is good.” I take a big gulp and let the smooth rich flavor trail down my throat, soothing the sore sensation. I’m not sure wine is supposed to be guzzled down like water but who cares? I could have died out there. Or at least that’s my excuse for downing the glass in one last swig.

He instantly gets the hint as a silent invitation for a refill. I take a sip, then a few more. I never understood how people could make a fuss about the distinct characteristics of wine…until now. The stuff isreallygood. My second glass is half empty, and I’m already feeling warm and giddy and about to enter my happy place, whatever that is.

“Maybe you should slow down a little,” Patrick says.

“What? You think I’m a lightweight?” I raise my eyebrows. He clamps his mouth shut, refusing to respond. I actually am. Alcohol and I don’t go well together. We’ve never been buddies, not even acquaintances, but Patrick doesn’t need to know that.

“Let me get you another sandwich.” He stands to leave. I place a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Who needs food when I almost drowned today, remember? That calls for a celebration.”

He peers at me, unconvinced, but I guess he can’t argue with my reasoning.

Icouldhave died.

“Fine. Just this one glass and then you’re off to bed to sleep it off.”

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to sleep off as I’m not drunk or anything. My speech sounds a little alien in my ears and the words don’t come out exactly the way they should. But I attribute it to the salt water burning my throat and the chilly wind wasn’t exactly helping.

“Tell me something about you. Maybe a secret. Something no one knows.” I lean forward and pull him back down on the bed, shimmying a little closer to him.

Damn, up close he is stunning. Eyes that are just as devastating wild and mesmerizing as the open sea. Dark hair that’s inviting me to run my fingers through it as I pull him on top of me.

Patrick stares at me for a moment, hesitating. And then he whispers, “There’s something I shouldn’t have done.”

I skid in a little more. “Oh, that sounds intriguing. Do tell.”

He averts his gaze, frowning. “In hindsight, it was a bad move. I really hope I’ll be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

“Probably not everyone. No.”

He shoots me a panicked look and I realize that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

Oh, well.

I wave my hand. “You’re sexy and all that. Men like you get away with murder.”

His brows furrow. That’s when I realize my blunder.

“Not that I’m suggesting you murdered anyone. It’s just a saying,” I hurry to add.

“I know the saying.”

“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” I whisper, my smile dying on my lips. “Because if this is a confession, then I don’t want to hear it. I’m in a lot of trouble as it is and don’t need ‘accessory to murder’ or whatever they call it added to my rap sheet.”

To my credit, I don’t blanch like most people would in such a situation. I’m all calm and composed. Must be the wine spinning its magic.

“What?” He frowns at my expression, and I realize I’m putting my foot in my mouth. The conversation isn’t going sowell. I should just shut up. Let him do the talking before I dig myself a hole so big, it might just fit the entire village.

Judging from the way he’s staring at me, he’s not into digging up holes in his backyard. I almost laugh with relief. Hedidhave me worried for a moment. “So, what is it exactly that you did?”

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