Page 82 of Beyond Protection
He'd moved to the port side, giving the family space but staying close. Rain had darkened his hair to rust, copper where the lights caught it. His eyes never stopped moving.
When we first met, I would've read it as paranoia. Now I knew it for what it was: the only way he knew how to exist around people he cared about. Hypervigilance wasn't Eamon's flaw. It was his love language.
I closed the distance between us.
He glanced over. Shifted his weight so his shoulder aligned with mine—not quite touching.
"You're allowed to enjoy this," I said.
"I am enjoying it."
"You're doing perimeter assessment."
"Can't I do both?"
I reached for his hand.
He'd taken off his gloves. His skin was cold. Mine was colder. I wove my fingers between his anyway.
He didn't pull away. His hand closed around mine—firm, deliberate.I'm here. I'm staying.
My breath synced to the carol's rhythm.
"Mac." His voice was low. "If I kiss you right now, half your family's going to see."
My heart pounded. "I know."
"You sure?"
I turned to face him. His eyes were the color of seawater in winter. The flush creeping up his neck said he was nervous.
"I'm sure."
He hesitated. One second. Two.
Then he kissed me.
Careful the way Eamon did everything—measured, deliberate. His mouth was cold from the rain, but the hand at my jaw was steady, warm, and grounding. Where his thumb pressed against my pulse point, my heartbeat kicked hard. He had to feel it.
He tasted like coffee. Dark roast, no sugar. Exactly like him.
The boat rocked. I forgot we were standing on a deck with two hundred people. Forgot the stalker, the countdown, and how I'd spent every day since Thanksgiving calculating every touch between us. This wasn't a strategy. This was just—
Want.
Simple. Uncomplicated. Mine.
I leaned in. Let my free hand drift down to his hip, thumb hooking his belt loop to pull him closer.
The boat rocked. Someone's kid screamed about a seal. The brass ensemble hit the final notes.
Eamon pulled back. Not far. His eyes had gone dark, pupils dilated. A flush was crawling up his throat.
"Hi," I said. It sounded stupid, but it was the only word I could manage.
His mouth curved upward at one end. "Hi."
Behind us, someone cleared their throat.
