Chapter 21

21

B y the following afternoon, I have everything for the baby shower set up and ready to go, and I'm sitting in my room, my heart racing as I pack a bag for my date with Henry. The anticipation is killing me. I rifle through my drawers, trying to find something to wear, finally deciding on a T-shirt and cutoffs.

"Ready?" Henry asks, sticking his head in my door. I turn toward him, trying to breathe normally even though it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. He's wearing a worn-in baseball cap, dark hair curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. He smiles shyly, his dimple nearly doing me in.

"Almost," I finally answer, my pulse thrumming as I shove the last of my things in my duffel bag and zip it up.

"Make sure you bring a swimsuit," he says, stretching his arm over his head and leaning against the doorframe. "Actually, on second thought, don't."

"Don't?" I echo, trying not to stare at his bicep and the way it flexes when he moves. The moisture in my mouth evaporates as I wrestle with the desire snaking through me. I clear my throat, dropping my gaze only for it to land on the sliver of skin above his waistband. "You have got to stop doing that," I rasp, licking my lips .

"Why?" he challenges, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

"You know why," I say, taking a step toward him.

"Tell me, Isla," he murmurs, leaning farther into the room, nudging my chin up until our eyes meet.

Fuck he's mesmerizing. Eyes so blue they're almost purple, looking at me like I'm the one thing that'll solve all his problems. And god, I know just one touch will solve all of mine. "Because we won't make it out of my bedroom if you don't," I finally answer, pushing up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his. He growls against my mouth, turning his hat backward and pulling me close, walking us toward the bed.

"Do you know why I picked camping?" he asks, kissing his way along my jaw, pulling at my earlobe with his teeth.

"Why?" I ask, wrapping my legs around his waist as we sink onto the mattress.

"So nobody will be able to hear you scream when I make you come." He bites my nipple through my shirt, and I arch my back, wanting more.

"You can do that here. Now," I say. "I promise I'll be quiet." His chuckle skitters over my skin, pebbling my nipples.

"I don't want you to be quiet, Red." I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth back to mine, reminding him what he could have right now if he would just take it. He pulls away, breathing hard, eyes hooded. "I'm going to blow your mind tonight."

"Is that so?" I tease, letting him help me to my feet.

"You have no fucking idea," he says, completely serious. "I need to go pack the cooler. Come down when you're ready."

"Okay," I whisper, biting my lip as I watch him walk from the room. God, I love a confident man. I blow out a long breath, completely frazzled. I go into the bathroom and stare at my reflection like she's a stranger. Rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, swollen lips. I think I like this version better. I bite back a smile, pulling my hair into a bun and swiping on some mascara. I grab my bag and head downstairs before my nerves get the best of me. Henry is outside loading the cooler into the back of the farm truck .

"You know Jack has a truck set up for camping?" I ask, swinging my bag into the back.

"I know, but I've been thinking about this for a while, and I've always envisioned us cooking our food over a fire and sleeping in a tent. If you'd rather–"

"No," I assure him. "This will be perfect." The fact that he's put so much thought into it has me feeling some kind of way. I can't wait to see Charlie's face when I tell her.

"I made a playlist for our date," Henry says, plugging the aux cord into his phone. "I hope that's okay."

"More than okay," I laugh, side-eyeing him, wondering how he’s real. Hozier’s voice fills the cab as Henry cranks the truck. Goosebumps race over my arms as life takes on an other-worldly quality. Like a movie or a book. Almost too perfect.

Thirty minutes later, Henry pulls off the side of the road, large dunes blocking what would be a spectacular view of the ocean. We scout for a spot and decide on a high rocky outcropping overlooking the beach. I gather driftwood while Henry sets up camp.

"This should last a while," I say, dropping a pile of sticks beside the makeshift firepit.

"I would say so," Henry laughs, wrapping his arms around me. "Ready to catch our dinner?"

"To what?" I ask, eyes wide.

"Don't tell me you've never been fishing, either."

"I never had a reason." I shrug. Until now. Now I want nothing more than to do exactly what Henry wants to do.

"Let me teach you. If you don't like it, we can stop. I brought extra food just in case." I follow him back to the truck, taking a fishing pole from him. "There should be a path," he says, scanning the pasture on the other side of the road. "Yes, there it is. We just have to follow that until we get to the river." We walk side-by-side, fishing poles slung over our shoulders, a tackle box under Henry's arm. "Secret for a secret?" he asks after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

"What kind of secret?"

He shrugs. "Anything. "

"You know that night you and your brothers came to the pub?"

"Last summer?"

I nod. "I couldn't get you out of my head, and when I got home–" I stop, swallowing hard, suddenly unsure if I should share this.

"You better finish that sentence, Isla," Henry says, dropping the tackle box and stopping me with a hand around my wrist, his fingers brushing over my racing pulse.

"I got myself there thinking about your hands on me. Your mouth." I look up at him, biting my lip.

"Fucking hell, Isla," he growls. "I would have gladly tongue-fucked you that night and then thanked you for the opportunity."

Heat pools between my legs, the ache almost unbearable. I pull my hand away and keep walking before I do something stupid like push him down right here in the open. "Your turn.”

"When Theo told us the sale of the pub went through, I had a dream about you." He pauses, licking his lips. "In that dream, I proposed to you with a ring I carved from a piece of wood. It stuck with me ever since.”

“Go on,” I say when he doesn’t continue.

“I brought a piece of driftwood back to the house the day we met on the beach."

"And?" I ask when he pauses, my heart pounding in my ears.

"I finished it this morning." He fishes in his pocket, depositing a delicate band gingerly in his palm.

My mouth drops open.

"I'm not proposing," he says as he drops to one knee.

"Then why are you on one knee?" I ask, my voice cracking. This feels like a dream. The colors are too bright, the air too crisp, the distant sound of burbling water too loud.

"God, I don't know. This was a horrible idea." He starts to get up, but I put my hands on his shoulders, stopping him.

"Say what you were going to say."

He takes off his hat, running his hand through his hair nervously. "I just want you to have something that reminds you of how much you mean to me. When you're having a shitty day, you can look down at it and remember that you mean the absolute world to me."

"Fuck," I whisper, blinking back tears. "I think that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

He slides the ring onto the middle finger of my left hand, then stands and pulls me against him, squeezing tight. I look up at him, registering the heat in those impossibly blue eyes. He holds my gaze as he lowers his mouth to mine, humming his approval as I bite his lower lip, his eyes fluttering closed. It only takes one slow, languid slide of my tongue against his, and his hands are in my hair, angling my head, dragging me deeper. When we finally break apart for air, we're both breathing hard, hair disheveled, pulses pounding. "I don't know what I was thinking bringing us out here," he groans, palming my ass and pulling my hips flush to his. "I should have booked a hotel room and had my way with you."

"This is perfect," I promise, giving him one last peck on the cheek before picking up the tackle box and heading down the path. If I don't put some distance between us, distract myself by attempting to catch some fish, I'm going to do things I'll regret. Like having our first time be on a gravel path in the middle of a field with all of God's creatures as witnesses. Henry catches up with me, winking one of those big blue eyes, sporting a smirk I'd like to ride right off his face. Jesus. I clear my throat, my cheeks heating as images of us in all sorts of compromising positions flash through my head.

"You okay?" he asks, dimple flashing.

"No." The river comes into view, and I start running, dropping the tackle box and rod into the grass, pulling the elastic out of my hair, and stripping clothes off as I go. I hop on one foot, then the other, pulling off my sneakers and then wiggling out of my cutoffs. I don't look back to see Henry's reaction to me standing here in my skivvies before I jump. Freezing cold water envelops my body, closing over my head. I push up just in time to watch Henry strip his T-shirt over his head, those 8-pack abs shifting as he tosses it aside.

"Did you think you could get away from me that easily?" he asks, raising one dark eyebrow. I don't say anything–I can't– as he toes off his shoes and drops his shorts.

Holy fuck. I don't think I'll ever get used to the amount of muscle this man has. His thighs...god. He takes two running steps and leaps through the air, tucking his legs up for a perfect cannonball. I shriek, laughing as I shield my face from the wave of water. He grabs me around the waist and hauls me up as he stands, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, tracing my lower lip with his thumb. “My tiny water sprite, a flame-haired delight, with eyes so green, and a magical bean.”

"Henry!” I flick water into his face, laughing. “I don't know what to do with you." I bite my lip, trying not to smile like a fool.

"Love me," he says without hesitation, crushing his mouth to mine.