Chapter Thirteen

Aspen walked across the beach under the crescent moon. Beams of light fell and sparkled over the dark, quiet water. Stars streaked the night sky. They held flashlights as their feet crunched over the sand. Brick held her hand, strong fingers entangled with hers in a shocking sort of intimacy. What was it about holding hands that could make you feel more vulnerable than kissing? Maybe because kissing could be termed impulsive, and the other was a conscious choice.

She'd dressed in a hoodie, a T-shirt, and yoga pants. Brick towered over her in a similar outfit, except he wore jeans. They reached the markings for the turtles and did a perimeter check to see if there'd been any disturbances. Two beach chairs had been set out for them.

"We got lucky. Was supposed to rain," Brick commented.

"So, what's the big plan for tonight?"

White teeth flashed in the darkness. Her tummy did a slow roll as his thumb stroked her sensitive palm. Goose bumps broke out on her skin. "This. Us hanging out with the babies, keeping watch." His voice lowered to a sexy growl. "Maybe a make-out session later."

She laughed, but it came out high-pitched. Lord, why did he make her act like a shy virgin? "We gonna share scary stories so I'll jump into your arms and seek shelter from the monsters?" she teased.

"Once I tell you about the headless OBX killer, that might happen."

Aspen rolled her eyes. "I love scary movies, so that won't do. Those creepy crabs crawling over my bare feet may, though."

"Noted. I shall protect you from sea creatures."

"What type of predators are we looking out for?" she asked .

"Raccoons, birds, and those creepy crabs. After Judy's people mark the nests, they watch them for any disturbances. Any holes can harm the babies when they hatch, so we keep the sand smoothed out and shed as little light as possible. The journey to the water is hard to survive, so they need help."

"Oh, my God. What if they hatch tonight? What do we do?"

He grinned. "They're not hatching tonight, or the professionals would be here. They mark the incubation time. These turtles are loggerheads, so they have an estimated sixty days to hatch. It's too early to happen tonight, but late enough that Judy wants all shifts covered. We're at the forty-five-day mark." His face tightened. "And if we have any smart-ass stragglers out there feeding the horses, who knows if they'd disturb a nest for fun?"

"I'll never understand that type of cruelty."

"The sad part is most of them don't think it's cruel. Simple neglect for nature is just as bad as a sin."

Emotion washed over her as he spoke. Aspen was isolated from so much of the natural world, surrounded by concrete and technology, glass and steel. Being here was giving her a different perspective. A deeper connection to nature that brought a sense of wholeness.

She gestured to the tote bag slung over his shoulder. "What did you bring? I think I can go a few hours without snacks."

He snorted and dropped the bag onto the sand. "I can't. No need to suffer, even if we're working the night shift. Wanna see?"

"Sure."

He unzipped the bag. She couldn't help but notice the way the worn denim of his jeans cupped his perfect ass or the muscled lengths of his arms under his sweatshirt. Brick withdrew a plaid flannel blanket, a thermos with two metal cups, and a various assortment of chips and granola bars. "I didn't know what kind of chips you liked, so I brought them all. Sour cream and onion, plain, salt and vinegar, dill pickle, or barbeque." He looked up. "Which is it?"

She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. This man had won the lottery. He went from sex on a stick to adorable boyish charmer. "Barbeque all the way."

His face lit up. "Me, too."

"What's in the thermos?"

"Hot cocoa with a touch of Kahlua for warmth. Can't let you freeze out here."

"It's like seventy-five degrees. "

"I know. Chilly, right?"

She jerked her head. "What's that machine thing?"

"Ah, this is my secret weapon. No scary stories needed." He whipped out an oversized black boombox circa 1980s. But then it got more intense. Brick took out a stack of CDs and placed them on the blanket. "Music is essential during a night watch."

This time, she couldn't help but laugh, especially at his obvious pride in his bag of supplies. "Okay, I'm impressed," Aspen admitted. "You're moving closer to a make-out session."

"Told ya. Now that I know your chip flavor, what's your music taste? Take a look."

She sat on the chair and happily went through the pile, which contained a surprising variety. Foo Fighters, Metallica, Jimmy Buffet, Saint Motel, Matchbox Twenty, The Weeknd, Billy Joel, and many others. She hit pay dirt at the very last one. "You have Taylor Swift."

"Of course. She's a legend."

"This is amazing. Do you have vinyl at home?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I never got into being a true collector. There's just something about an old-school CD and boombox that's fun. You need to be more intentional about choosing what to listen to rather than randomly skipping through a thousand songs. I like the commitment."

She burst into laughter, and he seemed confused at her humor before the realization flickered over his face. Then he laughed with her. "I guess only with my music."

"Guess so." She was touched at how he'd thought out their time together, like it truly mattered. When the doubts crawled in, reminding her this was part of his payment plan, she shoved them to the side. It felt real in this moment, and that was all that mattered. "Music won't bother the nest?"

"No. They probably like it. What are we starting with?"

"We'll save Taylor. Let's go with Foo Fighters."

"Nice choice."

He popped in the CD, and the music streamed from the tinny speakers. They both scouted the area and filled in any holes they found, checking for any killer creatures that may sneak in on their watch. When all was clear, they sat side by side, staring at the ocean.

"You're quite the nature whisperer today," she said. "First Duncan, now the turtles. When you were back in New York, did you miss being out here? Because I feel like I'm in a different world, even in this short amount of time."

He poured the cocoa and handed her a cup. "Your sister's been here a while. Figured you'd feel like this was your second home."

She took a sip. The rich flavor held that delicious hint of Kahlua and made it dessert. "To be honest, I was never close with my brother-in-law, so I didn't visit much. And then, when they got divorced, Sierra came to me for long weekends."

"I'm sorry she went through that. From what I know about your sister, she's a good person."

Aspen nodded but wanted to question if he was also a cheater. The story about Anastasia proved he was just as bad, even cruel. The thought bothered her, but she'd been the one to seek him out. She had no right to judge when he never pretended to be anyone else. "It messed her up. I'm glad she stayed here, though. She built a life with friends and a successful business. A beautiful house. Sierra found her place."

"Is New York your place?"

She pondered the question and took another sip. "I always thought so, but I'm realizing I've never given another place a try. Us New Yorkers are pretty stubborn."

Aspen glimpsed a faint smile. Those powerful legs were stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. The wind blew coal-black locks into a disarray that only made him look sexier. She had a terrible impulse to touch his hard jaw and smooth her fingers over his skin. It looked like he'd shaved. "Yes, we are. I've been thinking about it lately, especially now that I'm able to do the renovations. I spent a lot of time wishing Grandpa Ziggy hadn't stuck me with his tour company and house. I had my own dreams of staying in the city, wearing a three-piece suit, and chasing the money. It's what I went to college for and envisioned for my future. Each time I got close, I hit a block. But lately?" He shrugged. "I'm wondering if I landed exactly where I was supposed to be."

"Where did you work before this?" she asked curiously.

"Sales." His eyes flashed with the memory. She wished she could dig deeper and glimpse who he'd been back in New York. "I got my degree, got a job, and immediately started on my MBA. But my mom got sick, so I headed back home to take care of her." His face tightened. "It was a hard time, but being with her was worth everything."

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

His smile was fleeting. "Thanks. I miss her every damn day. Afterward, I went back to school and scored an internship at a financial investment firm. Met Kane there. He was already a big player in real estate properties. It was a fast world I thought suited me. I'd only worked there a year and a half before I got the call about Grandpa Ziggy. Now, I finally have an opportunity to save the business he built from scratch."

He recited his story with little emotion as if reading facts from a book. A man who quit school to take care of his sick mother and left everything behind to rebuild his grandfather's business didn't seem like a cheater. But there was too much gossip and shared tales to believe in his innocence.

How many hearts had he demolished before he returned to OBX? Where did Anastasia fit in? He never mentioned his ex-fiancée. Aspen pictured him in a custom suit, hitting bars at happy hour, the world open to his youth, attractiveness, and hunger for more. "Do you think you can make a profit with all these new investments?"

"Failure is not an option. No matter what I need to do, I'll make it a success."

"What do you do in the winter?"

"I have enough put aside from my savings. Last year, I worked as a bartender, which I enjoy. Did that to get myself through college. I run a few popular holiday tours with Santa, and a winter festival."

His gaze swung to hers, probing. Aspen stilled under his scrutiny. She got the impression he was ready to kick the focus back to her. "Tell me about your writing. After you turn in a book, what comes next?"

Aspen snorted. "Too much. I heard back in the good old days that all you had to do was write a book and work with your editor. Today, you immediately become the CEO of your business."

A frown creased his brow. She fought the urge to smooth the line with her fingers. "Doesn't the publisher do all that?"

"God, no. They're responsible for getting it out to distributors—bookstores, Amazon, Apple, Google, etcetera. They also do the audio for me and any foreign translations. They get the cover, do the edits, proofing, and printing. And sure, they definitely try to get media coverage and send the book out for early advanced reading and influencers. But there are millions of books out there and a lot of noise to cut through to grab readers' attention. If I was an indie author, I'd have to do all those tasks plus all the publicity. My trade-off is gaining lower royalty rates on each sale and losing my rights. It was worth it because I was lucky to get a hefty advance."

"Your first book hit big. Made you famous, right?"

She couldn't help the surge of pride when she thought about how her life had changed. From a broken heart, a year of total isolation and frantic writing, straight to landing an agent and a multi-million-dollar deal. Aspen had experienced a true Cinderella story. "Yes, it did. What happened to me was like hitting the lottery. Oh, sure, I wrote a great book—that's the foundation. But the stars aligned to create that moment in time for my book to get picked and resonate so deeply with readers. There are so many great books out there that never get the recognition they deserve. So much of it is random—some influencer picks it up, talks about it on social media, and suddenly you're going viral." She wrinkled her nose. "Unfortunately, you're only as good as your last book."

Curiosity lit his eyes. "Was there a book club or influencer that made the difference in it going viral?"

She smiled. "I like to say it was the perfect storm, where every good review or shout-out counted, but there were certain influencers who were next level. For example, @jens_toweringtbr, @2babesandabookshelf, @secretreadinglife, @megsbookclub, and @nurse_bookie created videos that made readers want to click. Jenny cried on camera. Kayleigh named the book her fave of the year. Sandra did these cute Reels, where she asked people if they'd read it, then fake-yelled at them to buy it now. Michelle created swag for readers to win in contests, and Megan started a reader support group because she was already begging for a sequel. Those were so authentic and real, the public responded."

"Amazing. I love how strangers were changed after reading your words." His focus on her face shredded her barriers, probing to see more than she usually showed. "What happened that made your first story so successful?"

Aspen couldn't help wincing, which he seemed to tuck away for future reference. Though it was a while ago, and she'd healed, talking about it was still hard. She decided to keep things simple. "I trusted someone I shouldn't and got my heart broken. A common human experience story."

"Don't." He said the word low, and surprise shot through her. Brick reached out and took her hand as naturally as if they'd been longtime lovers. "Don't pretend it was less just because it happened to others."

Emotion choked her throat. Her insides loosened as if he'd made room for her to share. "I guess you're right."

"Will you tell me about it?"

His question held respect and true intention. How long had it been since a man had looked at her with such care and focus? As if truly interested in the experiences that made her the woman she was today.

Not since Ryan. She wondered if she'd surrounded herself in Bubble Wrap to ward off the pain that came with opening up again. Aspen had been so involved with her writing and career that it had been easy to ignore her love life. Being with Brick reminded her of other needs.

Both physical and emotional.

She spoke carefully. "I was a freshman in college. Went to a private school that focused on writing and combined a Master of Fine Arts degree. Ryan was my first professor in literature. He also taught in the creative writing program and was a published author. He was quite popular with the students."

"I bet," Brick muttered, obviously pissed.

A smile touched her lips. "I became his favorite student. He said I had talent and took me under his wing. It happened slowly, but I took all his classes, assisted him during office hours, and became completely enmeshed in his world. By junior year, we were having a full-blown affair and were in love. We kept it quiet due to his job and planned to get married after I graduated."

God, she'd been so young. So in love with him and the world he'd unveiled to her. "He began having some trouble getting his new book published, and that was when he started getting tough with me. My stories had more issues. He was more critical. We fought, and I started pulling back with my writing so I could help him. Finally, he announced a new book deal after I graduated, and we got engaged. Set a wedding date."

Brick remained silent, but his hand tightened on hers, offering support.

"I figured it would all magically work out once we got married. We'd both be writers and famous and rule the world as a power couple. I had no idea what was really happening. Or maybe I didn't want to know. He was sleeping with other students. I showed up on my wedding day with a church full of people and got a text that said he was sorry. He couldn't do it. He ran off with another student who he said was his true soulmate. She was also a friend of mine. And I never saw Ryan again."

Aspen didn't mention the space in between. The depression and spiral she fought through. How writing had saved her, and how she'd rediscovered her power through grief. But sitting next to Brick, protecting the baby turtles in the darkness, everything she confessed was safe. Yes, she'd given her story to the masses, but it was done on her terms.

"I'm sorry he took advantage of your trust," Brick said simply. "Did the asshole ever try to reach out after your book was published?"

She shook her head. "Never heard a peep. I didn't look him up online because I have no desire to know. It took me forever to convince Sierra not to hire a private investigator and a hitman for a double discount."

He laughed, and she relaxed. Aspen was glad he didn't grill her; he just accepted what she decided to give him. "He was a predator, feeding on your talent and innocence in order to make himself feel better. Men like that are empty inside. Makes me sick."

"Agreed. Thanks for trashing him."

He grinned, and the mood lightened. The CD ended, and he got up to change it. The familiar strains of classic Billy Joel rang out, and she couldn't help but belt out a few lines of Piano Man . Brick joined her, and they finished their cocoa, trading karaoke lines that were more enthusiastic than talented.

He didn't take her hand again, and she missed the contact.

"Maybe I can help you with some marketing ideas," she offered when the song ended. "I'm always trying to drum up outside-the-box solutions. The whole blue ocean strategy is my bible."

He snapped his fingers. "Read that book in college. Find the blue waters outside the competition and put your marketing efforts there. Stop trying to compete in the red waters, where everyone is fighting for a share."

"Exactly! If Maleficent is your main competition, what niche could you fill that she can't?"

Brick took their empty mugs, dried them with a paper towel, and tucked them in the bag. "Been thinking about it. We have similar schedules: early morning, afternoon, and sunset. Same coupon and referral sales. It may be worth stretching my advertising reach. I stay local, but I was thinking of partnering with some businesses in the city to catch upcoming tourists."

She nodded. "Great idea. Who books tours the most out here?"

"Definitely families. I'm happy to try a sunset champagne run for couples, but it's the minority."

"How can you go after the kids? Anything to offer them?"

Brick rubbed his chin. "I could offer a treasure chest. Pick a prize. Maybe a pirate hunt, where they get something fun if they see a horse."

"Yes! The kids would love being involved."

Those blue eyes lit with a flare of excitement. "I can run some ads with that theme at popular kids' activities: bouncy houses, baseball fields, mini golf."

"Love it."

They nibbled on granola bars and chatted about other possible outlets, discussing how to craft the hooks to grab attention. It was similar to doing things for her books for Facebook and Instagram ads, so she had fun brainstorming back and forth.

The lilting strains of a piano filled the air, along with a husky voice singing about loving a woman just the way she was. Brick got up, dusted sand off his jeans, and reached out his hand. "Dance with me."

She blinked. "Huh?"

That lazy smile touched his lips. "Dance with me, Aspen. I love this song."

She felt her cheeks redden, the usual awkwardness descending on her. God, why wasn't she flirty and smooth like her sister? "Um, I dance like I sing. Not the best."

His voice dropped to a husky growl. "All I want is an opportunity to put my hands on you."

She stared, speechless. "Oh."

He reached down, grasped her hand, and tugged her out of the chair. Still unable to create words, she followed him as he led her a few feet from the turtles' protected area. In one smooth movement, he eased her against him, both hands resting on her lower back. Her heart pounded crazily, but Aspen followed her instinct, reaching up to grasp his shoulders. Brick moved back and forth over the sand, swaying, his gaze almost gentle as he gazed down at her. "Why so surprised?" he teased. "Hasn't a man asked you to dance before?"

"Not on the beach. Most men I know despise dancing and disappear to the bar at every wedding or party."

A shiver raced down her spine as his fingers brushed the top of her buttocks. His body was like a muscled wall, hard and unyielding. "Their loss. Your scent has been driving me crazy all night. I needed more of it."

Her jaw almost unhinged. "Really? I think it's the dryer sheets I used for my sweatshirt. Plus, Sierra baked cookies, and I was in the kitchen awhile. Could be either of those."

Amusement flickered over his features. Oh, God, she was saying the stupidest things. Why didn't she just tell him it was her usual Dior? "No, it's just you." He ducked his head and breathed into the crease of her neck. "Citrus with a hint of spice. Like you taste."

Her stomach dropped to her toes. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his voice rumbled against her ear, low and sexy and full of delicious intentions. "I-I'm glad you like it."

His teeth nibbled on her earlobe, his breath a hot rush. "I do. You're sweet. Been thinking about all the other places I want to taste. "

Aspen gasped at his thrilling words, and then the sound was covered by his lips on hers.

She opened herself to the kiss full force, already too far gone to think of resisting. Head falling back, she reveled in the firm, soft movement of his mouth gliding over hers, his hot tongue sliding inside to tease and play. Rich chocolate and cinnamon hit her senses, making her hungry for more, and then she was on her tiptoes, looking for it. Her fingers plunged into the silky strands of his hair and twisted tightly. He muttered her name and demanded more in return, turning forceful in his need as those big, hard hands finally cupped her ass, tilting her closer.

Their mouths devoured each other as heat poured through her body. She sank into every sensation as her core grew wet and needy for his fingers and tongue. As if he knew, he rocked his erection against her, rubbing her aching clit until she was clinging hard, practically grinding against him.

"I want to make you come."

Her head spun. His teeth nipped her lower lip. She moaned, curling her tongue around his, drunk on his taste and the feeling of his muscular body against hers. "Brick."

"Let me touch you. Make you feel good." His whisper was purely carnal, his blue eyes gleaming with need. Her control was slipping away because Aspen wanted nothing more than to beg him to slip those talented fingers into her panties and let her ride them to orgasm.

But they were on a public beach, and she wanted privacy. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, and a quick orgasm wasn't what she needed right now.

Hell, she wanted it. But what she needed was an intimacy much deeper than a release. Even if she was terrified to push herself there, it was the only way she knew how to truly connect.

Shaky, Aspen gathered all her strength to break the contact of that perfect mouth and everything it could do to her. Brick stared into her eyes for a few beats. Then, slowly, he pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I'm just—"

"Don't you dare explain." He lowered her to the sand and buried his fingers in her hair. His forehead pressed against hers. "You deserve more than a hookup in front of a crowd. I'm the one who's sorry."

"What crowd?" she asked, suddenly on high alert.

"The turtles."

Aspen relaxed and gave a half laugh. "We would shock them."

"They may hatch after they see the things I do to you, and then Judy would be mad."

She laughed again. How could he be so erotic yet funny at the same time? It was as if he sensed everything she needed and offered it to her without reservation. He didn't even seem to mind her slight awkwardness. Even now, he pressed a kiss to her jawline, letting her body adjust as she came down from the heights of sizzling lust. "Very true," she managed to say. "God knows how the crabs would react."

He grinned, keeping her wrapped tightly in his arms. "You're a hell of a woman, Aspen Lourde." She took that as her exit to pull away, but he shook his head, holding her. "Not ready to let you go yet. The music's still playing."

"You still want to dance with me?"

He stroked her cheek. Those blue eyes shimmered with an emotion that made her want to look deeper, but some part of her said it was better not to. "Yes, baby. I do."

The endearment made her eyes suddenly sting. She smiled and shook off the strange heaviness in her chest. "Okay."

She settled into his embrace. He held her loosely and guided her across the sand.

The ocean waves danced. The moon hung in a perfect silvery crescent. The turtles slept.

And they danced.