Page 12 of Love Takes A Tumble
The thought should have frightened her. Instead, she found herself leaning slightly into the space between them, toward whatever was building in this moment, on this boat, beneath this golden sky.
The boat slowed as they approached the lighthouse. The sunset had transformed the sky into a canvas of amber and rose, the colors reflecting on the water's surface in shimmering patterns.
"The original lens was a First Order Fresnel," Harrison explained, his voice taking on a quiet authority that surprisedher. "Much bigger than what they used in later years. It could project light for almost twenty miles."
"How do you know all this?" Audrey asked, genuinely curious.
He smiled, a hint of self-consciousness in the gesture. "I might have done some reading before tonight. Thought it might help with your research."
The admission touched her more than she expected. "Thank you," she said softly.
"Did you know most lighthouses have their own unique light pattern?" Harrison continued. "It helps sailors identify which lighthouse they're seeing. Like a fingerprint."
"A signature," Audrey murmured, thinking of her lighthouse keeper character. "Something distinctly their own."
The boat rocked gently as it circled closer to the stone foundation rising from the water. The tour guide had moved to the bow, but Audrey found herself more interested in Harrison's explanations, delivered without pretension, just a genuine desire to share what might be useful to her work.
The wind picked up as they rounded the eastern side of the lighthouse, sending the loose strands of her hair dancing across her face. She reached to brush them away, but Harrison's hand was there first, his fingers gentle as they swept the wayward lock behind her ear.
"There," he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Now you can see."
His hand lingered near her cheek, a breath away from touching her again. Audrey found herself unable to look away from his eyes, from the warmth and something deeper she saw reflected there. The space between them seemed charged with possibility, with unspoken questions.
For one breathless moment, the world narrowed to just this. His closeness, the lighthouse, her heart beating a rhythm she'd forgotten it knew.
And then panic surged through her, sudden and fierce. Too much, too fast. Too real.
"I should take some notes," she said abruptly, pulling back and fumbling for her notebook. "For the book. That's why we're here, after all. Research."
She could feel Harrison's gaze on her face, could sense his confusion at her sudden retreat. But he didn't press, didn't try to recapture the moment she'd broken.
"Of course," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "What else would you like to know about the lighthouse?"
Audrey stared down at her notebook, at the blank page that seemed to mock her cowardice. What was she so afraid of? That she might actually feel something? That he might?
That he would leave, like everyone eventually did?
"The foundation," she said, forcing steadiness into her voice. "How deep does it go?"
As Harrison began explaining the engineering behind lighthouse construction, Audrey tried to focus on his words rather than the lingering sensation of his fingers near her skin. She told herself she'd imagined the connection, the charge between them. That it was simply the romantic setting, the golden light, the proximity of bodies on a small boat.
Nothing more.
But as the boat completed its circuit and turned back toward the marina, Audrey couldn't help glancing at Harrison's profile, at the way the fading light traced the contours of his face. And she couldn't quite convince herself that what she'd felt wasn't real.
Only that it was safer to pretend it wasn't.
Chapter Six
The smell of woodsmoke mingled with salt air as Harrison added another log to the crackling fire. The flames leapt higher, casting dancing shadows across the small gathering of people seated in a rough circle on blankets and beach chairs. The casual beach bonfire had been Elise's idea. "Just a little get-together for our guests," she'd said, though the knowing glint in her eye suggested ulterior motives.
Harrison glanced toward the path leading from the inn, trying not to be obvious about checking for Audrey's arrival. She'd been noticeably absent at breakfast that morning, and when he'd run into her briefly in the parlor, her smile had been polite but distant, her excuses about needing to work on her manuscript a transparent retreat from the moment they'd shared on the boat.
"She'll come," Jacob said quietly, appearing at Harrison's side with two bottles of beer. He handed one to Harrison. "Elise can be very persuasive."
"Who says I'm waiting for anyone?" Harrison replied, accepting the bottle with a nod of thanks.
Jacob's knowing smile was answer enough. "You've got it bad, my friend."
