Page 147 of For Better or Hearse
He chuckles. That’s his girl.
Itching to be close to her, to touch her, he crosses the room and sits beside her. With her tousled black hair, big black T-shirt and pale skin, she looks like the death’s door heroine of an Edgar Allen Poe novel. To Nathaniel, she’s never looked more beautiful.
With a relieved exhale, he cups her jaw, evaluates her face. Her pupils. “How’s the head?”
He gets that droll, snarky smile he loves. “Concussed by a coconut,” she rasps. “I’ll never live it down. It’ll forever be on my medical record.”
He gives a low laugh of disbelief. “You’re lucky it’s not a skull fracture.” Slipping her hand into his, he asks, “How’s your blood?”
“Oh, it’s practically vibrating.” A graceful arch of her brow. “If you’ve been waiting for me to be weak and defenseless, now’s your time for murder.”
“And not have it be a fair fight? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She laughs. The sound is the most incredible thing he’s ever heard.
He looks down at her hand curled in his. His mean, beautiful girl. Pushes through the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I am too.” She smiles at him, but there’s a fragileness behind it. A hesitation. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For making me feel okay out there. Not so afraid. For taking care of me.”
He squeezes her hand. “I always will.”
Ash squints at him. “Are you okay?”
Nathaniel opens his mouth. Looks into Ash’s eyes.
He doesn’t know how to tell her. That he’s not okay if she’s not okay. That he’d give his own life to keep her safe. That she’s endgame. In his head, heart, blood, soul. She owns him.
Finally, he gets the words out. “I am. I am more than fine now.” His lips twitch. “Ashabelle.”
“Oh god,” she grumbles, covering her face. “Can we just pretend I never told you that? I will claim you took advantage of me in my weakened condition.”
Grinning, he leans in and kisses her through her fingers. Her warm cheek, her delicate jaw. “No. Never going to forget.”
A kind of whimper escapes her. Then he’s engulfing her in a hug. He crushes her tight against his body, breathing in her hair, her scent of sun and juice. For a long second, he just holds her. Overcome. She’s okay. She’s alive.
“We’re about twenty minutes from Maui,” he says hoarsely, his lips brushing her temple. “We’ll get you back and get you some rest.”
Settling against the pillows, Ash thins her lips. “It’s our last night. I’m not resting.”
“Ash,” he growls, ready to hog-tie her to a bed. Or better, his body. “You almost died. Which means—”
“Which means I’m not missing the luau.” Her eyes flash with determination. “Augustus and I worked hard to plan this night.” Before he can protest further, she holds up a hand. “I’ll be okay. All I need is a cheeseburger and a very long, very hot shower.”
“Done.” In his head, he’s already arranging room service. A soft bed. A fully stocked minibar. Lots of rest.
Toying with his fingers, she looks at him from beneath heavy lashes. “Lost at sea. That’s our story now. We can take it to our grave or tell theNational Enquirer.”
We can tell it to our kids. The thought leaps into Nathaniel’s mind, but he bites his tongue.
In an ultra-soft voice, Ash says, “We go home tomorrow.”
He swallows hard, interlacing his fingers through hers. “Yeah. We do.”
She bites her lip, lowers her gaze. “I wish we had another day.”
“Me too.”
Their eyes meet. A sharp emotion passes between them. Their night on the beach, but also this entire vacation. They’ve endured the good and the bad of the trip together. Shown up for each other. That matters.