The smell was everywhere. I couldn’t escape it. I looked down to see my hands were shaking so badly as the thick crimson flowed through my small fingers. It clung and coated the surface. A high-pitched scream echoed through the room. I looked for the sound but then realized it came from me.

Jolting forward, I clasp at my chest. My eyes won’t adjust to the darkness and I’m frantic to see. A wrecked sob tears through as I search for where I am. Tears pour from my eyes and through the dark haze of the night, light flitters in.

“Shh.” Searching hands find me. They pull me forward and into his warm body. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“I’m not. I’m not okay,” I cry out, pulling my hands from his and touching all over my body, trying to find the origin of the blood.

“What are you looking for?” Ragged breaths leave my lungs. Preston holds me and rocks me in his arms. As much as I try to pull away, he holds me tighter. “There’s nothing on you.”

“I need to wipe it off,” I whisper in defeat.

“There’s nothing there.” He lifts me his lap, and I curl into him. My whole body goes limp. I allow him to soothe me.

Slowly, my pulse regulates and I take smaller pulls of oxygen. When I’m finally breathing normally, he lifts my jaw to look at him. His brows are knitted, and he looks sad as one finger reaches out and swipes at a tear that runs down my cheek.

“What can I do?” he implores.

“Just hold me.”

“I can do that.” And he does. He holds me. He holds me until all the tears drain from my eyes. Until every last bit of panic has passed. His heart beats against my back and eventually it slows to a soft lull. Looking up, I see he’s fallen asleep with me in his arms. My heart is full. He takes care of me. Never have I felt so safe. Cared for. In his embrace the world stills, and it’s just him and me and nothing else matters.

When I’m sure he’s fully asleep, I creep out of bed, moving quietly to not wake him. I grab my purse and pull out my notebook. Perching at the end of the bed, I sit and stare. Every move, every breath I take note of—recording them in my heart and memory to always cherish. The feeling pulsing through me right now for this man is so concrete and absolute. I’m falling for him, and every moment I spend with him, my emotions become more complicated. Because this isn’t just sex. This isn’t something I can get out of my system.

There is no removing Preston Montgomery from my system. He’s embedded so deeply inside me I fear I have no hope but to one day fall in love with this man.

* * *

Last night I sat and watched Preston sleep, and somewhere between the inhale and exhale of his breath he pulled me against him and I drifted off to sleep. As my eyes flutter open, he looks across the bed at me. He’s studying me.

“What?”

“I’m watching you.”

“Creepy much,” I groan, but in my head I’m laughing. Pot, meet kettle. “Stop looking at me. I probably look like a mess.”

“You know what makes you so beautiful? That you don’t know how beautiful you are.”

“I do not look beautiful right now.”

“Baby, no matter what you do, you could never not be beautiful.”

My eyes widen, first at his statement, then at the moniker. Both make me melt in equal measure. Warmth spreads across my cheeks.

“Thanks.”

“Come here.” His voice is husky. It makes me want to run to him, but first I have to brush my teeth. No matter how much I want him right now, making myself presentable is my number one priority. I move to leave the bed and two firm arms bracket themselves around my waist.

“Hey.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Preston’s arms trail up from behind as his face buries in my neck. His breath fans my skin, and the feeling is incredible. It causes goose bumps to prickle my skin.

Soft kisses first, and then his tongue licks with abandon.

When he circles the back of my neck, my whole body shivers. As much as I need to get up from the bed, this man renders me completely useless as he drops kisses down the length of my spine.

Before I know what’s happening, I’m flipped over to my back and Preston is hovering over me. He leans down and plants a series of kisses over my abdomen. His tongue traces a path down to my belly button, then to my pelvis . . . and across my hipbone.

Small kisses.

Soft nips.

“What is it about your skin?” he mutters into my body.

All of a sudden, Preston lifts my legs to rest over his shoulders. He opens my body to him. His fingers press deep inside me in tempo with his masterful tongue. My breathing becomes erratic.

I feel myself come apart as he feasts upon me.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles against my body as I become lost in my pleasure and explode.

When I come down from my high, he’s just staring at me.

“What about you?” My lip lifts into a small smile.

“That was for me.” A deliciously sexy smirk spreads against his face. Who is this man? He’s so different from the Preston I was falling for before. Lord, am I in trouble. Screwed, really. Because heaven knows I was not prepared to guard my heart against this Preston. This Preston owns me already and it’s only been one day.

Together we shower. This time we’re in and out. No distractions. Preston was determined to not let me have my way with him, claiming I needed breakfast.

After breakfast of our favorite—waffles—we find ourselves sitting in Adirondack chairs on the large sprawling lawn that appears to cascade down into the sea. The view is awe-inspiring, as we have a panoramic view of the ocean below crashing upon the beach.

“Are you cold?” Preston inquiries from beside me. My arms are pulled tightly around me, but inside my coat I’m not cold. Just comfortable. It’s been so long since I felt this peaceful that even if it were the dead of winter, I wouldn’t move.

“I’m perfect.” He leans across the space separating our chairs and captures my lips. His are soft as they gently nudge my lips to part. I tremble in his mouth. It might only be one kiss, but I am lost, and if this is what lost feels like, I never want to be found.

Our faces pull apart and our eyes lock.

In his gaze I see the possibility of more, and the thought scares me. How am I supposed to let him go? How can I let someone go who makes me feel so much?

He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel special. He makes me feel free.

“You happy?” he asks.

“Beyond.” I smile back.

“Good, because this is only the beginning. I have a whole day planned for us.” He jumps up and reaches his hands out toward me. As I stretch mine out to him, a part of me wants to pull back. Freeze time. Once I get up, the end has started. Like tiny sand grains slowly spilling. The end is near.

I decide that I won’t dwell on what the future brings. Instead, I plaster on the biggest smile in the world and vow that Preston will never see my inner thoughts. We walk in the direction of the main building, but instead of going inside, he asks for the keys to his car. Once inside, he grabs my hand in his and squeezes lightly.

“Since we never left the cottage last night, I thought it would be nice to see Newport.”

“I would have been fine staying inside.” I bat my eyelids and he laughs.

“I’m sure you would have.”

“So, what’s there to do in Newport?”

“Well, typically it’s more of a beach town, but I figured we would do a bit of sightseeing. Then we can grab lunch.”

“Sounds like a great plan.”

A few minutes later we pull into the quaint seaside town. Historic buildings line the streets and I can see how lovely it would be in the summer. Although the weather is losing much of its chill, it will still be months before Newport is in its full glory. Preston pulls the car into a parking spot, and then like a perfect gentleman, comes around to my side to help me out. My hair whips against my face as the ocean breeze picks up.

I pull my light coat tighter around me as he rests an arm over my shoulder, bundling me to him. His heat radiates through the material, warming me instantly.

With each store we pass, we peek inside, looking over the cute accessories and knick-knacks Newport has to offer.

Removing Preston’s arm from around me, I make my way to the opposite wall of a shop we’re investigating. My fingertips trail over glass apothecary jars on the shelf. I pick one up and study the image. When my eyes roam the room, I see Preston walk toward the register. He has something in his hand but I can’t see what it is. The sales woman is quick to wrap it, and charges his card by the time I make it over to him. When he turns around, the beginning of a smile tips the corner of his mouth when he sees me. Exiting the store, Preston grabs my hand and I turn towards him.

“There’s a great little lunch restaurant down the block. Are you hungry yet?” he asks.

“I can always eat.”

Along the way we pop into a few more stores to shop, and all the while Preston continues to hold my hand—as if we’re couple on a romantic trip, and not a doctor and his patient stealing a moment in time. The caress of his soft fingers makes me want to believe the lie.

Once we cross the street, I spot the restaurant, but before we step in I notice that right next door is a quaint little bookstore. It’s perfect. The outside of the building has a whimsical look to it. Painted mushrooms decorate the plate glass windows and giant flowers accent the front façade.

“I need to go in there. There’s a book I’m dying to get.” I announce and together we walk into Book Time. Stepping inside, I’m transported into a faraway world. It’s a darling little store with Alice in Wonderland themed décor. It even has little tables for tea service. Pulling my hand from Preston’s, I head straight to the section that houses the Young Adult new releases. He follows a step behind. As I step forward to grab the book I came to purchase, so does Preston. My hand brushes against his, sending an electric shock through my body.

His touch is intoxicating, enticing . . . primal.

His dazzling blue eyes meet mine, showing me he’s feeling the same connection and thinking the same thoughts as me. That I want to put my hand back on his. Touch him again. Relive that feeling when our hands and body connected. But we’re in a bookstore, so I calm my growing hunger by looking at the stack of books in front of us.

“I didn’t know you read YA.”

“YA?”

“Young Adult. Obviously. I didn’t know you read young adult books.”

He laughs at my silly comment. “I don’t, I just wanted to see the cover, I didn’t know you read YA?” He winks.

“They’re the best!” I exclaim and a smile lines his face from my excitement. Butterflies fly in my stomach at the sight. That spark when our hands touched has rendered me useless—and apparently melted all the strength I have to keep my distance.

He laughs again. This time it’s a boisterous laugh and it warms my heart. “Little old for flying witches, aren’t you?” 

“Um, no.”

“Well, then, I guess we’re lucky they still have two copies, or I’d have to fight you for that one.” My eyes must bug out, because his face lights up with a huge grin. “Relax, I’m kidding, but if you say they’re the best, I’m going to buy one for my sister. She loved the vampire one.” His crystal blue eyes shimmer at me as he talks of his sister. He pulls the second copy from the shelf and takes mine from my hand. “Come on.”

We head to the front counter and he hands the saleswoman our books. She smiles at us.

“Will that be all, sir?” she asks as she scans the two copies.

“Yes.”

“That will be twenty ninety-nine.”

I reach for my purse.

“Nope. My treat.”

My whole body turns to him, my eyes wide. “You can’t buy me a book.”

“Sure I can.”

“But—”

He looks so serious—insistent. So I agree.

“Okay.” I nod.

He pays and we walk to the exit door.

We arrive at the restaurant sometime later. It’s a darling little bistro, with only a few tables inside. Most are outside overlooking the boats in the marina. After the hostess hands us our menus, I lean over and smile at him.

“So, what do you want?” I ask and a grin curls up the side of his face at my comment. “For lunch, Preston.” He winks this time and I just sigh. “Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll have the tuna. What about you?”

“Caesar salad.”

“Well, that’s an interesting choice,” he says and I tip my eyebrow at him.

“Meaning . . .”

“Well, every time we eat, you manage to order the item with the most sugar or calories on the menu. I assumed you would get something a bit crazier than a salad.”

“Hey. I eat stuff other than junk,” I whine and his smile broadens. “I do.” He lets out a laugh and I pin him with my eyes “I do.”

“Okay, then. What’s your favorite food?” I fold my arms across my chest and let out a dramatic huff.

“Fine, you’re right.” His lips part into a big grin at my response.

“Not everything you like is junk. You do like me.” He smirks and I shake my head, but I can’t hide the giant grin lining my face. This Preston is playful, and a part of me wishes we could live in this fake world forever. Unfortunately, I know we’re on borrowed time.

“I do like you.” I nod in agreement.

“I like you too, probably more than I should. But when I’m with you, everything fits together. Everything makes sense.” We both grow quiet.

“So, you obviously have been to Newport before. Do you come here a lot?” I say, essentially changing the subject.

“Not anymore. Growing up in the city, my family had a house in the Hamptons where we spent our summers, but when I was older, my friends and I from high school spent a week in the summer here.”

“So, you travel a lot?”

“Honestly, not so much. Between my volunteer hours at the hospital and the private practice—”

“Wait, you volunteer there?”

“Oh, yeah. I though you knew that. I do a few hours a week volunteering with patients.” I sense there is more to the story than he is letting on but I don’t pry. “What about you? Did you travel?”

“No, never.”

“Because of your mom?”

“Yeah.” He nods and it’s comforting to realize this man knows me and understands. “I always wanted to travel, but Mom always came down with something right before we were scheduled to go. As amazing as Richard was, his company was just taking off, so I never traveled. By the time I got to college, I concentrated on studying and graduating. So really, the only place I have ever been is nowhere.”

“Well, now you’ve been to Newport, Rhode Island.”

“And it’s my favorite.” I don’t say that any place with Preston would be my favorite, but from the way his trained eyes assess me, I think he knows.

“Where would you like to go? If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” With you? Anywhere.

“I love history and architecture, so I’d have to say anywhere in Europe. Being a huge Jane Austin fan, I would love to go to England.”

“You would love it.”

“You’ve been?”

“When I was in college I was a theater major. So me and . . .” He pauses and swallows. “Sloane and I went to see the Globe Theater.”

“Wow. That must have been amazing.”

“It really was.” He looks as if he’s lost in a dream or a memory. With a shake of his head, he rights himself at the very same moment the waitress appears and takes our order.

A little less than thirty minutes later, my plate is empty. After Preston pays the bill, he cocks his head to the right.

“Now, what do you want to do?”

“Go back to the hotel?”

“Do you want to see the beach?”

“No.”

“The lighthouse?”

“No.”

“What do you want, Eve?” I tremble at the way he says my name.

“You. Only you.” He looks down, his chest rising and falling with his rapid intake of breaths.

“You have me,” he whispers so low I can barely hear him. For now.

* * *

When I look at him, I lose all reason.

I want him to devour me.

Body, mind, and soul.

And that’s exactly what he does the moment we enter our cottage.

My body quivers as I wait. The anticipation of his touch is almost too much for me to bear.

I’m intoxicated with desire. I rip off my clothes and stand naked before Preston. Taking slow steps, I make my way to him and run my hands down the soft T-shirt covering his chest. When I make it to the hem, I lift it to expose his torso, and then pull at his belt, I work to free him, but he stops my hand.

“Patience.”

“I can’t. I need you,” I beg, but he shakes his head at me.

“I want to take it slow. I want to savor every touch, every taste, every feel.” My brain wants to scream No, don’t savor it, because I know what that would mean, but I don’t say anything. My eyes will betray me. So I stand and stare and watch as Preston’s eyes sweep the length of me.

His lips trail down my torso. When he reaches my breast, he captures my erect nipple into his mouth and nips and tugs at the peak with desire. Pulling away, he moves further down my body as my hands pull at his unruly hair.

I need his lips. I need his mouth on mine.

Sensing my urgency, he moves back up my body and kisses me. As our tongues tease one another, his hands continue to explore, parting my swollen flesh and sliding inside. I gasp at the sensation, panting heavily as his fingers pump in and out of me. When he pushes his digits up, my inner walls clench around him. My head thrashes back and forth as I reach my climax. Preston continues his ministrations until my orgasm crests and peaks, and then he removes his fingers and pushes me down onto the bed. I watch through hooded eyes as he undresses then crawls up my body and starts to tease my entrance with his hard length.

“God,” he groans out as he inches himself in. “I want to burrow myself inside you. I want to be so deep, I don’t know where you end and I begin.” His movements are excruciatingly slow. My own body is so desperate for more that I push my center up to fully impale him inside my still quivering body.

Wanting more.

Needing more.

“Fuck.” He pulls out. “So fucking good.” He slams back in.

He keeps up the pace until once again we are both chasing the high. With a final thrust of his hips he plunges inside me and I welcome the bliss, falling over into an endless abyss of pleasure. Every muscle clenches around him until his body has no choice but to follow me.

Together, we lay panting on the bed. My blond hair fans over his chest as our breathing regulates.

The light seeps in through the windows, reminding me that it’s still daytime and we will be returning to reality tomorrow.

“Anything else planned for the day? Or can I keep taking advantage of you?” I say into his chest as I alternate between speaking and kissing him.

“As much as I would love to do this all day, I do want to take you to the lighthouse. Then we can have dinner.”

“Fine.” I groan, kissing further down his torso. Just as I begin to run my tongue down the carved V of his pelvis, he pulls me up. Bracketing his arms around me, he moves his mouth to mine.

“Later. Come on, let’s get dressed,” he says and I give him a playful smirk. “Nope, none of that. You’re showering alone or we’ll never leave. Actually, forget the shower. I like the idea of you . . . dirty.” He grins.

Burnt orange streaks the sky as the sun starts to set for the day. It casts a soft shimmer across the translucent blue of the water. With each pass of the wind, hints of pink burst through the clouds. It’s one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen, and witnessing it with Preston makes it even more meaningful.

Preston’s gaze drifts to the horizon and his hand lightly squeezes mine. I wonder if he feels what I’m feeling. The wind teases my hair, making it flutter across my face as we climb closer to the lighthouse.

Preston ventures closer and closer, the path giving way to nature. When my foot slips, he turns around and reaches for my hand to help me. As our hands meet he smiles down at me. It’s earth-shattering.

God, he’s beautiful. But I can’t think these thoughts.

If only we were two different people. If only this was allowed. Instead, it will fade into a memory of a once perfect time. It will become a chapter in a closed book.

“You coming?” He laughs and I realize I was caught gawking at him.

“Um, yeah. Can we go inside?”

“No, unfortunately it’s not open to the public.”

I feel as if I’m living in a fairy tale as we take a seat at a small picnic table and watch the last bits of sunlight dance against the sky. A shiver runs down my body as the wind picks up. Preston pulls me into him, and runs his hands up and down my back to warm me.

We don’t speak for the remainder of the time we sit there. I know I can’t voice any words to reflect the emotions choking me. As beautiful as this moment is, as perfect as our time together has been, it’s bittersweet.

When we arrive back at the cottage, I see that Preston has had a candlelight dinner prepared. Tiny teas lights flicker against the walls, and a bottle of champagne is waiting. Letting go of my hand, he walks over and pops open the bottle, then pours it into two waiting flutes. He employs careful precision to not spill, then hands me a glass.

“To the most perfect weekend in my life,” he says and tears pool in my eyes. “Don’t cry.” My chin trembles and I force my lips to part in a smile.

“I’m not.” He brushes his finger across my cheek and wipes away the moisture.

“Would it be better for us to talk about it?” His eyes narrow with concern and I shake my head adamantly.

“No.” I tilt my head into his hand and stare up into his cerulean eyes. The ones that have hypnotized me in the past, and I open my heart and allow them to put me under their trance once again. In that moment, I let myself fade into the fairy tale story you read with a happily ever after.

I wasn’t the patient and he wasn’t the doctor. We were merely two people falling in love.

“Please, let’s just enjoy this time together.” He sets his glass on the table and lifts mine from my hands. He wraps his arms around me. I inhale his scent, and immerse myself in the comfort he brings me. With one whisper of a single kiss against my forehead, he pulls back and leads me to the table, and although I want to cry, I vow to enjoy every moment of this last night together.

After dinner, he draws me toward him. Our mouths collide. We tell each other everything we can share with each sweep of our tongue.

This kiss makes me believe my lie. His lips tell a tale of their own, and as our bodies join, I let myself go. I let myself become immersed in the imaginary pages of what we could have been.