Noah awoke from a doze with a start, rapidly chilling bathwater sloshing around him. He’d gone for a run this afternoon and decided to treat himself to the luxury of an actual bath instead of a shower. Since he was still camped out in Southern Seas’ shark room, which didn’t have a full-sized bath, he’d located Mary’s spare key and used her bathroom.

Perhaps it was a little bit stalkerish being in Tilly’s space when she wasn’t there. And perhaps it was even a little pathetic using her bubble bath just so he could smell her again. What the hell.

The bubbles had all vanished. With a wince, Noah climbed out of the cooling water. He froze mid-reach for a towel. Was that a floorboard creaking next door in the kitchen? He angled his head, heart beating hummingbird fast.

Silence.

He snagged the towel and roughly dried himself. How many nights had he spent staring at the shark room ceiling, yearning to hear Tilly walking around above him? Truthfully, he was yearning for Tilly, period. Everywhere he looked there were traces of her. Post-it notes stuck to walls with indecipherable scribbles—his best guess was plot notes to whatever she’d been working on. The lingering scent of her in the house. Her clothes in the closet, a stack of paperbacks on the nightstand. Long dark hair clogging the shower drain.

Noah wrapped the towel around his hips and opened the bathroom door. He came face-to-face with the wide-eyed, open-mouthed, drain-clogging brunette in question standing in the hallway.

It was only because every molecule of oxygen was sucked from his lungs at the sight of her that he refrained from hollering. Tilly wasn’t so in control of her vocal cords.

She shrieked, stumbling back a step and grappling to find her balance with her bad arm still supported in a sling. Her feet somehow tangled beneath her and she started going down.

Noah lunged and scooped her up against him, managing to avoid crushing her bad arm against his bare chest. Her nails dug into his biceps until she’d regained her balance.

“Thanks,” she said. “But what the hell are you doing in my bathroom?”

He drank her in, familiarizing himself with her big hazel eyes, soft lips, and curves that were pressed against him so perfectly. It felt as if he hadn’t seen her for months, not days.

“Taking a bath.” A less than sophisticated response, but in his defense, all the blood in his brain had plummeted to a more urgent area.

“In my bathtub?” Her grip on him loosened, but she didn’t try to wriggle out of his embrace. “Guess you’ve made yourself at home in my bed, too?”

The mention of her bed wasn’t doing his composure any favors. He gently extricated himself from her arms, his hands lingering on her hips until he was sure she wasn’t going to fall on her butt.

“I’ve been making use of Mary’s shark room while Constable Webster has taken over my house.”

“Uh-huh.” She took another step backward then leaned on the hallway wall. “And just what sort of establishment do you think I’m running here?” Her gaze dropped from his face to his damp chest, straight down the center of his abs to—

His towel was puddled on the floor. Hell.

“Well, this is awkward.”

Her cheekbones sucked in as if she were biting down on a smile. “Oh, I don’t know. It seems like a little quid pro quo to me. Kind of fitting for our second meet-cute.”

He’d no idea what a meet-cute was, but his heart met his breastbone over and over like an out-of-control ping-pong ball. While he wanted nothing more than to drag her to the nearest horizontal surface, he had to know what her reappearing in Oban meant. And as much as he liked her heated gaze skimming his bare skin, he couldn’t let the sizzle of their undeniable chemistry distract him.

He bent and retrieved his towel. “Give me two minutes to get changed downstairs. Don’t go anywhere.”

She sent him another wide-eyed, innocent stare. “Yes, sir, Officer Sexy-Britches, sir.”

“Tilly,” he said in a tone meant to convey he wasn’t screwing around. Now that she was there, he wasn’t letting her go again. If she tried to leave on the returning ferry to Bluff, he’d swim Foveaux Strait after her.

Her gaze softened. “I’m staying right here.”

He didn’t want to read too much into that statement, so he left her in the hallway and returned to the shark room to put on clean clothes.

Five minutes later, dressed in jeans and a dark green sweater he knew she liked on him, he stood on the back porch, trying to figure out whether or not he should knock. Considering she’d already busted him breaking and entering, he walked inside.

Following rattling sounds into the spare room, Noah froze in the doorway. Tilly was one-handedly unloading clothes from her closet and tossing them on the bed. He slid a glance at the dressing table, which the last time he’d been in her room was covered in bottles, tubes, brushes, and other female stuff. Now that stuff was tossed haphazardly into a cardboard box.

Dull thunderclaps echoed in his ears and he gripped the doorframe. He’d broken his first personalized rule of Policing 101: Never assume.

She selected the wine-colored dress she’d worn to the Easter Gala. She held it awkwardly up to herself with one hand, crinkled her nose then tossed it onto the pile of clothes still on their coat hangers.

“You won’t make the last sailing.” He spoke in the most neutral tone he could manage.

If he wasn’t mistaken, and right then he didn’t trust his own judgment, he could have sworn her lips turned up in a small smile.

She flicked him a glance. “Guess not.”

Was he planning to bow out gracefully and let her leave the next morning? Hell no. Women liked a man to fight for them. He’d give her a fight, even if it meant bending the rules and playing dirty.

“Need help with anything?” Because he wasn’t so much of a tool that he’d let her hurt herself while packing up her stuff.

“No, I’m good. Ford is going to stop by later to give me a hand.”

Right. Mental note to arrest Ford ASAP.

Tilly crossed to the far nightstand, on the side of the bed he’d slept in, and slid open the top drawer. She removed a roll of cough drops and set them aside, her gaze locked on the rest of the drawer’s contents. Noah knew what her gaze had landed on by the rising tide of pink staining her cheeks.

Condoms. At least two boxes.

She slammed the drawer shut and turned to face him, wrapping her arm around her waist and tucking her fingers under the sling, suddenly looking young and vulnerable. Pain squeezed knifelike in his chest. If she really wanted to go, he wouldn’t stop her. He loved her enough not to want her feeling trapped and miserable. But he owed it to himself, as bloody hard as it would be, to open up so she had the full picture before she made up her mind.

“Can we sit down for a moment and talk?” The concept of which was foreign territory to him. Usually he was the one to hear that particular ball-freezing question.

“Sure.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her.

Noah sat where directed, his skin prickling as if she were emitting static electricity. He ached to hold her, physically ached as if he’d exhausted himself on a grueling obstacle course. He’d missed her so much, needed her so damn much, that it was pure torture being this close.

“You know how I was raised. The kind of man my father was, and how that influenced me. We didn’t talk about feelings, we didn’t show feelings, and none of us cried when my mother left us.”

He took her good hand in his, running a thumb over her delicate bones and smooth skin. “But that’s a poor excuse for shutting down on you when you needed me most. When I found out you’d been shot, I can’t describe how terrified I was on the ride to the hospital. I’ve seen some truly terrible things in my career, but nothing prepared me for this. I didn’t know whether I wanted to punch something, scream until I was hoarse, or throw up from the toxic brew of emotions in my gut. And, God. Seeing you in that hospital bed, I finally got it. What my mother and Hayley must have gone through while I was on the squad. What you must’ve felt when I confronted that mugger.”

Tilly shuffled closer to him, leaning her shoulder against his in silent support. He was grateful she didn’t try to interject, because now that he’d started he had to get it all out.

“I can’t ask you to go through that kind of hell for me again.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “So I’ve been in contact with a South Auckland company—”

Tilly yanked her hand from his, twisting on the bed to face him. “Please tell me you haven’t accepted a job in Auckland?”

“No,” he said slowly. “I mean, if the security industry won’t work for you, there are other options I can look into.” He met her gaze and tried to project every ounce of sincerity he felt into his eyes. “I love you, Til. I don’t care if you’re not quite there with me yet, because I believe, given time, you’ll fall as hard for me as I have for you. That you’ll believe that what we have is worth risking everything.”

That small smile reappeared on her mouth, and she cupped her palm along his jaw, stroking her thumb over his lower lip. “Then you and I are a safe bet, because I love you, too.”

His stomach in free fall—in a good way this time—Noah covered her hand with his and leaned in. “Are you sure?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Would I lie to an officer of the law? Now shut up and kiss me.”

Tilly clung to Noah as tight as she could, which wasn’t as tight as she’d have liked because of the damn sling. His kisses told her just how much he’d missed her and now demonstrated with perfection that he loved her, too. When they finally came up for air, Tilly found she was flat on her back among the contents of her closet, with a heavily aroused man half pinning her to the mattress. A quick calculation and a glance at the fading light outside the window meant makeup sex was out of the question.

At least for now.

She managed to wedge her good arm between them, setting her hand over his deliciously tempting lips before she threw caution to the wind and bonked him senseless. “Wait a minute, Sexy-Britches.”

He grinned down at her. “Ma’am?” His soft lips tickled her palm and she shivered.

She gently pushed on his gorgeous face, and he allowed her to force him away. He flopped onto his back, lacing his hands under his head. Propping herself up on her good arm, she stared down at him. This wonderful, selfless, kind, and, yeah, passionate man. Her man now, of this she was sure.

“You’re not the only one with some explaining to do.”

Hooded eyes studied her. “I wasn’t going to say anything, you know, to be polite.” A dimple appeared in his cheek.

“Ha ha. This is a safe space.” She made a circular gesture between them. “Anything I say here cannot be used against me in a court of law.”

“How long do you think it’ll be before you run out of police metaphors?”

“A long, long time. When we’re old and wrinkled and you’ll need a little blue pill to keep up with me.”

He chuckled. “When we’re old and wrinkled I’ll still be chasing you around the nursing home in one of those mobility scooters. I’ll catch you, too, and arrest you if you don’t pay up.”

Happiness fizzed through her, but she tempered it down to a warm buzz. She needed him to understand she was invested in this relationship, invested in him, for the long haul.

“Here are the things I need to tell you. I quit my job.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m not catching the Stewart Island ferry tomorrow, the day after, or any time soon unless we need to go on a shopping spree in Invercargill.”

A V-shaped wrinkle appeared on his forehead. He unhooked a hand from behind his head and picked up the nearest garment on the bed. “What’s with the packing, then?”

She could’ve let him off the hook earlier, because she’d guessed he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, but that would’ve ruined the surprise. She widened her eyes in faux innocence. “Since I’m now the proprietor of Southern Seas B&B, I should have the master bedroom, don’t you think? This room is too small for my king-sized bed that’s being shipped down to Oban with the rest of my stuff.”

There was a beat or two of stunned silence from Noah. “You’re moving here permanently?”

Tilly bent and placed a soft kiss on his mouth, lingering long enough to elicit a sexy, rough moan from him. “Look at you, mastering the basics of detecting.”

At his eye roll, she laughed. He reached up, stroking a big hand over her hair and tucking a strand of it behind her ear. “You want us to stay here? Because it’s definitely an us now and we’ll make decisions together.”

“Here is where I belong. Here with you.”

His forehead creased again, and he propped himself up on his elbows. “Tilly,” he said softly. “I don’t know what else there is for me in Oban workwise.”

She took a deep breath. “You have a job here, an important job. One I’m proud to support you doing.”

“Even though I’ll still deal with the less pleasant side of human nature on a regular basis?”

“You can handle it, Officer Badass. And the guys around here are pretty badass backup for you.”

“I thought you’d be my backup,” he said in a serious tone. “I could teach you some badassery self-defense moves.” Crinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes. “Or you could just talk any bad guys into submission.”

“Are you saying I talk too much?”

“Not at all. Tell me again that you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Tell me again that you’re staying here.”

“I’m staying wherever you are. Whether it’s Stewart Island or suburbia, you are the deciding factor. I only needed a near-death experience to figure out that what I felt for you was real, it wasn’t ever going to change, and that two intelligent people who were in love could figure out a way to make it work.”

“I’m a great problem solver,” he said modestly. “And talking about feelings sure beats the hassle of jail time if I have to kidnap you and keep you in my bed for the next forty years.”

“Aww, for a life with me you’d switch out your police blues for an orange jumpsuit?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“That,” she said, easing down to snuggle into his side, “is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Really? Hold that thought.”

He winked at her and pulled his phone from his pocket, hitting a number on speed dial.

“What’s up?” Ford’s tinny voice asked through the speaker.

“Drop off Tilly’s luggage tomorrow. If you turn up here tonight, I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”

A snort of laughter was followed by a barked, “Obstructing what? No, don’t answer that, dude.” The line went dead.

“I stand corrected,” Tilly said as Noah rolled off the bed and swept coat hangers and clothes to the floor. “That wins hands down.”

The smile he directed her way as he stripped off his sweater and shirt caused her stomach to flutter so hard it nearly lifted her clean off the mattress. She couldn’t have written her own happily-ever-after better. Thanks to learning the lessons Aunt Mary had bequeathed her in her journal.

She’d have a home in the most beautiful, serene paradise. An opportunity to write what she wanted to write—starting with a burgeoning idea she’d had of a novel of Māori and Pākehā worlds colliding. New friends, and a tight-knit community. And most of all, someone to share it all with.

Someone who just happened to look a-mah-zing with or without a towel.

Noah crawled onto the bed and nuzzled kisses up her throat.

“You want romantic things whispered in your ear?” His talented mouth moved up to lightly grip her earlobe between his lips.

She clutched his bare shoulder while he whispered all the ways he planned to make love to her over the next twenty-four hours. She arched her hips into him. “You’ve forgotten my number one writer’s rule…”

He slid his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast.

She groaned, quivering beneath his touch. “Show, don’t tell.”

He chuckled and gently brushed his thumb over her nipple. “Let me get you naked, baby, and it’ll be my pleasure.”

And it was.