Page 48 of Keeping Skylar
God, please...if you’re listening, if you even care, just keep her safe wherever she is. I know I don’t deserve it—not after everything I did, everything I failed to do. But if there’s even the smallest chance, please let me make this right. I’ll be a better husband—a better man. I’ll do just about anything. Just please...give me one more chance. Bring her home, home to me!
CHAPTER 20
Skylar
The air conditioner roars above me as I stand beneath its cool breeze, trying to keep the sweat from soaking through my clothes. My palms are slick with moisture—I’ve wiped them on my jeans for what feels like the hundredth time. I’ve spent most of the day anxious and distracted, all because Heath is due to arrive tonight, or should I say, in precisely forty minutes.
I’ve meticulously cleaned and inspected every inch of the apartment, top to bottom, making sure everything is in perfect working order. I’ve probably gone over it more times than I can count—so many, in fact, it’s bordering on obsessive. But I can’t help it. I need everything to be just right.
Heath called me last night, just as he promised, and we ended up talking on the phone for nearly an hour again. I’m not sure why, but conversations with him just feel so comfortable and easy.
He spoke about his last week working as a chef on the Royal Expedition and the surprise farewell party his colleagues threw for him at a hotel. He was proud to say that by the end of the evening, he was the only person to make it out of there sober.
We also talked about my work at the school, Hannah and Nate’s upcoming nuptials, his new job at a five-star restaurant, and tips on some great local places to visit. There wasn’t a single moment between Heath and I that felt awkward or dull.
Last night’s conversation helped ease some of the anxiety that’s been building over the past couple of weeks. I’ve beenwrestling with whether I made the right call in letting a stranger move into my home. By the end of the week, Kirstin and Mila were practically ready to kick me out from our group chat thanks to my relentless back-and-forth.
A gentle knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I immediately feel my body tense.Crap! He’s here!
Nervously pacing back and forth in the living room, I hear another knock on the door—this time, louder and more insistent. I take a few deep breaths, trying to steady my racing heart, before finally summoning the courage to open it.
The moment I swing the door open I’m stunned by the sight before me. Heath stands there, two large suitcases one on each side of him, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a guitar case over the other. Holy shit. Not only is he attractive—he’s absolutely breathtaking.
I quickly take in his appearance: the five o’clock shadow highlighting his sharp jawline, a perfectly sculpted nose, soft lips, and striking blue eyes. His tousled brown hair, cut to a medium length, adds a slightly edgy, effortlessly sexy vibe. He stands tall—probably around six foot two—with a muscular frame that’s strong without being overly bulky. His golden skin is adorned with intricate tattoos that snake along both arms.He could easily be mistaken for a cover model of a romance novel or a men’s magazine.
A wide grin spreads across his handsome face as his eyes slowly travel down the length of my body, then back up again. There’s no mistaking his expression—he’s just as pleased with what he sees as I am. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, duchess. I’m Heath, your devoted and humble servant.” With a bow fit for royalty, he extends his hand towards me.
I suppress a laugh behind my hand before reaching out to shake his. But instead of taking it in a firm handshake, he liftsit gently to his lips. Heat blooms across my face and creeps up my neck. “Hello, Heath. It’s great to finally meet you in person. Please, come in.” I step aside, gesturing for him to enter.
He gives a quick nod, grabs his luggage, and steps inside. I close the door behind him, my nerves tightening with every second as his eyes sweep across the open living space, quietly taking it all in. “You have a beautiful home, Skylar.” He smiles, his eyes wandering around the room.
“How about I give you the grand tour?” I offer, motioning towards the open kitchen and living room area as I lead the way.
Heath abandons his belongings by the door and trails closely behind me, taking in every inch of the room. “This is such a cosy and charming place you have here. I didn’t expect it to be so spacious,” he says, his expression reflecting both surprise and satisfaction.
I offer a genuine smile. “The space and the fact that it’s within minutes drive from the beach is what sold me in the first place.”
“A beach girl, huh?” He smirks.
I shake my head. “Not really, but I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean. I hear it can be quite therapeutic.”
He affirms with a nod. “It is. There’s something calming, yet powerful about being surrounded by sea. That was one of the reasons why I decided to work on a cruise ship,” he discloses.
Our eyes meet, and for a fleeting moment, something unspoken passes between us—charged and electric. A tingling sensation rushes through my limbs, catching me completely off guard.
I look away first and walk over to the kitchen. “This is the combined kitchen and dining area. You’ll find everything you need in the cupboards and pantry. Hannah mentioned that you love to cook, so please let me know if you need any extra cookware.”
“I’m sure you have everything I need.” He flashes a grateful smile.
I quickly move on to the next room, hoping he doesn’t notice the faint colour spreading across my cheeks. “This is the living room—it’s pretty standard, but feel free to make yourself at home,” I say, gesturing towards the sliding glass doors. “Just out there is an L-shaped balcony with plenty of seating if you ever want to invite friends over.”
He walks over to the sliding doors and peers through the glass. “I’m a pretty private person, so you won’t expect any visitors any time soon,” he declares, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.
“I don’t mind if you have visitors, just no parties, please. I really don’t have the energy to deal with noise complaints from the neighbours.”
He chuckles softly as he saunters back into the kitchen. After opening and checking every cupboard, he turns back to me and says, “I’m not really much of a party animal. When I’m not cooking or reading, I’m usually playing my guitar. That’s probably the only noise you’ll hear from me.”
I look over at his guitar resting against the front door and glance back at him. “I didn’t know you played guitar. Hannah never mentioned it. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
