Page 74 of For Better or Hearse
She steadies her tequila.
Amused, she turns to Nathaniel. “Do you ever think about how drunk people lack the core strength to sit on barstools?”
“You want to take a walk?” Nathaniel asks, putting a hand on the back of her chair. Annoyance furrows his brow. He glares at the blundering man as if he has a personal vendetta. “On the beach?”
At her nod of assent, he helps her off the stool. One palm pressed gently against her shoulder, he guides her out of the bar.
Seconds later, they’re on the white sand. Balmy air and the scent of plumeria surround them.
“Wow,” Ash breathes, lifting her champagne glass in a toast. She drags her attention from Nathaniel and takes in the ocean. “Drinks on the literal water. Hard to beat.”
He appraises her. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“How you would beat this.”
Her heart stumbles a little at his deep tone. She really should have left the tequila at the bar. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“Maybe it is.”
She thinks on it. A little shock of glee fills her. “I don’t think you can. Tequila. The stars. The dark. The Very Tall Asshole next to me. They’re all bad ideas.”
“You,” he says, the single word making her breath hitch. In the moonlight, the angles of his face look like they’ve been chiseled from stone. He’s so good-looking, it’s debilitating.
“I’m a bad idea?”
He takes a long sip of his beer, drags a hand through his hair. “You aggravate me.” His gaze drops to her lips.
Her heart takes off, hammering at a furious pace.
Flirting. They’re flirting with something. Most likely disaster.
Either way, Ash should go. Take her tequila and run.
Instead, she lets out a breath. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good.” His voice thickens. He moves in closer. “I think.”
The ocean crashes against the shore. A breeze kicks up, ruffling her hair, obscuring her vision.
Nathaniel reaches out. One big hand caresses her cheek, sweeps her hair behind her shoulder, taming it. Instead of pulling away, he inches closer. Long fingers hold her jaw. Eyes turning heavy-lidded.
Ash waits, hesitant, anticipatory. Her body sizzles.
It’s the throttling he’s been waiting for.
Her lips part. All the air escapes her lungs. She tips her head back, eyes him. “Nathaniel. If you’re going to ki—”
His mouth lands on hers. Every one of her protests smothered. There isn’t an ounce of hesitancy in his kiss. It’s only warm and hungry and addictive. He grips the edge of her sarong with his free hand, using it as leverage to pull her closer.
Her champagne flute thuds to the sand.
She has better things to do with her hands.
She clings to those broad shoulders. Arches into his touch, deepening the kiss. Offering more of herself as Nathaniel unleashes a deep, tortured sound from the back of his throat. It’s hot as hell, sending shivers through Ash. He feelssogood.
Too good.