Page 121 of For Better or Hearse

Maybe you aren’t a mess. Maybe you could do this with Nathaniel. Maybe you want to.

Maybe he does too.

Shoulders coiled, Nathaniel paces the hotel lobby and types out a message on his phone.Where are you?

Sand. Where are you?

“Ash,” he growls. The cryptic messages he keeps getting back from her aren’t helping.

It’s been two hours since she grabbed Delaney and the bottle of wine and stormed out of the restaurant like a Visigoth marauder. In that time, he and his family took an extremely awkward ride back to the hotel. From there, they disbanded. But they didn’t go their separate ways like he expected. He and Tate went to the bar. His mother and grandfather took a walk on the beach. Only his father was left blustering in the lobby. No one paid him any mind.

And they likely won’t for the rest of the trip.

Please tell me you’re okay.

You’re okay.

“Christ.”

His fucking father. He’ll never forgive him for what he said to Ash. He wouldn’t blame her if she hopped the next plane out of here. Even if the thought makes him sick to his stomach.

Her leaving—it wouldn’t feel right. They’re in it together now. Whether she knows it or not. She’s made this trip better for everyone. Especially him.

Commit a murder or clean up the evidence?

He chuckles at her text, drags a hand through his hair. Thinks back to Tate’s theory about a woman texting the one she wants when she’s drunk.

He hopes.

Christ. He’s never wanted anything more.

The lobby door slides open, and in strides his sister. The wine bottle cradled in her arm like a flower bouquet.

“She’s on the beach,” DeeDee says when she reaches him. “Straight shot south.”

He gives her a look. Tips her chin. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. But you now owe me a tarot deck and your firstborn daughter.” She slugs his shoulder. “Go get her, big brother.”

He leaves the hotel and walks the twenty yards to the beach.

His heart beats hard until he sees her. It slows to a steady rhythm as he takes her in where she’s sprawled out on the sand like a sexy, lazy starfish. In her white dress, in the silver moonlight, she glows.

“The wine has absconded,” Ash drawls. Her eyes are closed.

He sinks down beside her. Smooths her black hair from her face. “The wine has been drunk.”

Her long lashes flutter open, focus on him. He takes her hand, helps her sit up.

“Hi,” she murmurs happily.

“Hi.” He angles in and kisses those red lips. Like it’s natural. Like there’s no other earthly choice but to be drawn to her. He searches her dreamy gray-green eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re hot when you’re angry?”

“Just my creepy uncle.”

He can’t stop the growl that escapes him.

“Kidding.” She quickly turns shamefaced. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, her eyes big and beseeching. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to your father.”