Declan woke at dawn. Paige was sleeping soundly beside him, curled up in the sheets. For a moment, he felt a swell of pride, remembering how she’d gasped and moaned beneath him. Every time he took her over the edge, it felt like a miracle. Every time he lost himself in her sweetness, he only wanted more.

She belonged to him.

Declan froze. He didn’t get possessive, and he sure as hell didn’t sit up, stroking a woman’s hair as she slept. But Paige felt so right in his arms, it was intoxicating. A taste of something simple, a memory of a flavor he’d been chasing, like he already knew her by heart. 

He needed to get some breathing room.

Declan slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her. Paige rolled over and made a noise of protest.

“Shh, I’m just going for a surf,” he whispered, soothing her. “I’ll be back.”

She murmured again, still sleeping. She looked angelic with her hair splayed around her head on the pillow, one arm draped in the space where he’d just been laying.

Leaving her naked in his bed seemed unthinkable, but Declan had a restless itch in his veins now. He couldn’t think straight when she was around; he wanted her too much for that. Not just her body, but the other moments, too: the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her designs, that infectious laugh, and the glimpses she was slowly showing him of the woman she kept hidden out of sight.

He pulled on his wetsuit and grabbed his board from the hallway. It was a short walk across the shore road and down to the sand, so early that he was alone on the beach with the sun still rising on the horizon.

Surfing always centered him. The restaurant could get crazy sometimes, but out here, none of that mattered. It was just him, the board, and the waves—and a few gulls circling overhead. Declan braced himself against the cold water and waded in, ducking under a wave and surfacing with a gasp. The water was perfect today, the breaks rolling in steady swells, and it took no time for him to catch his first perfect ride.

Declan lived for this: the rush that came when his body and the ocean and the wind all were in perfect balance, speeding over the water like he was weightless, at one with the world. Cal teased him sometimes about going all hippy-dippy over his mornings on the board, but what could he say? There was nothing quite like it.

Except his nights with Paige.

Declan sighed. He was used to being alone, bobbing gently on the dawn tide with nobody around for miles. The women he spent time with always knew to be gone before he got back, letting themselves out with a flirty note and a promise to maybe hang out again sometime. But he could already picture Paige snuggled up beneath the covers, and dammit if he didn’t want to cut things short and get back to her, slide into bed and wake her with a slow, deep kiss.

Whatever happened to no strings, no mess, no drama?

He’d broken his own damn rules, that’s what happened. He’d always stayed away from good girls because he thought he would only break their hearts, but it turned out, one had gotten a hold of his, instead. And now . . .

Now he felt an unfamiliar conflict, tearing him in two very different directions. Out to the solitary horizon, or back into Paige’s arms. But it wasn’t just about this morning, either. Rich’s offer was bigger than that. Travel. Ambition. Hell, the way he pitched it, they wouldn’t be settling for anything less than global culinary domination. Declan would never have thought twice before jumping at an opportunity like that.

Until her.

His jaw tightened. It was way too soon to be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be feeling it at all. He didn’t let women affect him like this. Sure, he had some fun, between the restaurant and friends and travel. But you couldn’t just turn around one day and build a whole world around someone.

Could he?

Declan shook away the thought. He’d always known what he wanted. He had his life figured out. No friction holding him back, no adventure out of reach. It was just him and his knife kit, remember? Hopping a plane on a whim to go soak on a beach somewhere. Heading out on a Friday night for drinks and winding up halfway across the country in a dive bar with half a NASCAR team. He knew from his childhood that all the best intentions in the world wouldn’t keep you rooted. It was better to just accept that everything changed. Embrace it and learn to thrive on the risk.

Paige wasn’t a rolling stone like him. Even her version of changing her life meant putting down roots: signing a lease and setting up her store, making friends, and building a life somewhere. She deserved that security, and he’d known from the start he wasn’t the guy to give it to her.

Sure, they could have their fun now, but that was all it was ever supposed to be.

He just had to remember it this time.