On the ride to his house, Laire didn’t say much, staring out her side of the car. Her mood had changed between leaving the bar and joining him in the parking lot, though he had no idea why. When she got in the car, she smiled at him but didn’t lean over the bolster to kiss him as he’d expected. She seemed less excited and more contemplative too.

Hmm. Maybe it’s just nerves about being alone together.

Last Sunday, even though they’d managed to find a private moment during the rainstorm at the gardens, they’d actually been in public the entire time. Maybe she wasn’t entirely comfortable going to his empty house with him.

“Laire,” he said, looking up at the sign that welcomed them to Buxton as they zoomed past, “I’d never pressure you to do somethin’ you didn’t want to do. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” she said, turning to look at him, her eyes wide and trusting.

Hmm. Maybe she’s worried about getting caught.

“I promise my family isn’t there. They’re all in Raleigh.”

“Yes. That’s what you said.”

Huh. What’s going on with her?

“I missed you somethin’ awful, darlin’.”

“I missed you too.”

“I’m not plannin’ to leave again,” he said quickly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I’m stayin’ put, here on the Banks, until the end of the summer.”

“Oh,” she murmured, her shoulders slumping as she turned away from him.

God damn it. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. He didn’t know how to read a woman’s mind, for heaven’s sake. If she was upset about something, she was going to have to go ahead and tell him.

He pulled into his driveway, cut the engine, and faced her. “Spit it out.”

“Spit what out?”

“Why’re you so upset?”

She took a breath and opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then closed it with a loud sigh.

Obviously there was something on her mind.

“Laire? You’re killin’ me. Please just tell me what’s goin’ on in your head.”

She pivoted her whole body in the seat to face him, and she was so fucking beautiful in the moonlight, he trembled, forcing himself not to reach for her until she’d told him what was wrong and he’d had a chance to clear it up.

“You hated being away from me,” she said, as though confirming it.

He nodded. “Yeah, I did, Freckles. A hundred percent. It sucked.”

“For me too,” she whispered. “But at the end of the summer, you’re leaving, Erik. For a lot longer than five days.”

“End of the summer’s not for weeks yet.”

“Five weeks. That’s nothing! That’s less than nothing! It’ll slip by in the blink of an eye.”

“But it’s five weeks together! It’s five weeks of kissin’ and huggin’ and talkin’ and . . . Laire, it’s not nothin’. It’s everythin’!”

“But at the end, you leave,” she said softly, and for the first time, he noticed the tears brimming in her eyes.

He reached for her cheek, cupping it gently. “I do. I have to go back to college.”

She pulled away from his touch for the first time he could remember, and it hurt.

“And how far away is Duke from Hatteras?” she asked.

“Five hours. Maybe six,” he said softly.

“And that’s for a person who actually has a car!” she exclaimed. “Which I do not.”

“I do,” he said, but he heard the uncertainty in his own voice. The truth was, he hadn’t really thought about what came next. He’d been living in the moment and enjoying the here and now way too much.

“Oh. And I’m so sure that once you’re back at your fancy school, you’re going to want to drop everything and come visit your summer fling on the Outer Banks.” She took a ragged breath, looking away from him as she swiped at her tears.

“Summer fling!” he yelled.

Fuck, no! She is so much more than that to me!

He opened his car door and walked around to her side, swinging open her door and offering her his hand which she, thank God, took, allowing him to help her out of the car. Pushing the door closed with his foot, he pulled her into his arms, sighing with relief to finally feel her pressed against his body, where she fucking belonged.

“You are not a fling to me,” he whispered passionately in her ear. “Not even close. I’ve never . . . I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

“Erik,” she sobbed.

He held her as close as he could. “Laire, darlin’, please don’t cry.”

She rested her cheek on his shoulder. “It hurts to fall in love with someone. It hurts awful.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But where does this go?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But we still have five weeks to figure it out.”

“Either way,” she said, sniffling softly near his ear. “I stay here and you leave.”

“Wait a second,” he said, leaning away from her. “Our rules, remember?”

She nodded, looking up at him.

“So maybe I come back once a month. And maybe you work up the courage to tell your father we’re datin’ and you come spend a weekend with me at Duke.”

“No, I can’t!”

“You can, Laire,” he said, putting an edge in his voice. “You’re eighteen. You’re an adult. He can’t tell you what to do.”

“I live under his roof.”

“Still, you need to stop bein’ afraid of him and be yourself. Hell, Laire! You want to go to college in New York City! You don’t think he’s goin’ to object to that?”

She took a deep breath, and her breasts pushed into his chest, making his cock stir behind his shorts. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and make out with her in the quiet darkness of his parents’ beach house. He didn’t want to stand in his driveway wasting these precious minutes together quarreling over inevitabilities.

“How about this?” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and walking them both toward the house. “I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it work. I know this, darlin’. When we say good-bye in August, that’s just ‘good-bye,’ not ‘the end.’ I don’t want to date anyone else . . . at Duke or otherwise. And I don’t want you to be with anyone else on Corey. I want us to stay together.”

She gasped softly. “You mean it, Erik?”

He did. One hundred and fifty percent. “Of course. I’m crazy about you, Laire.”

Suddenly her arms were around his neck, and she was leaning into him, her face tilted back, her lips waiting for his. And he obliged her, sealing his mouth over hers and groaning with relief to finally be touching her intimately again. On the front steps of Utopia Manor, they kissed in the moonlight for ten minutes or more, her whimpers mixing with his moans, his hands under her shirt and hers under his. Hot and wanting, both of them panting for more. When he drew away from her, he was rock-hard and aching.

“Let’s take this inside?” he breathed.“I don’t want to give the neighbors a show.”

She looked up at him and grinned, then her eyes rose higher. His gaze followed hers, to the millions of stars in the inky night sky.

“We’re just two tiny specks of dust in a big, wide world,” she murmured. “But I feel so much, Erik. I feel so much, it’s like the whole universe couldn’t hold it even if it tried.”

He looked back down at her, at the stars reflected in her eyes. “I know exactly how you feel, darlin’.”

***

After a tour of the three-story mansion, they turned and walked back down the grand staircase, to the living room on the ground floor, which had floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass doors that led to the pool deck. Laire stood at the windows, looking out at the pool and the lawn and, way beyond, the reflection of the moon on the Sound.

“I’ve never seen a house this beautiful,” she said.

His hands landed on her shoulders, and he pushed her hair aside, his lips landing softly on her neck. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access, sighing when his tongue flicked out over the sensitive skin.

She was still unsettled about her conversation with Ms. Sebastian, and though Erik had done his best to reassure her that he wanted to figure out a way to continue their relationship after the summer, she couldn’t deny the worry in her heart. She hoped they’d come up with a more concrete plan in the weeks before he left for Duke, but she didn’t want her worries to spoil tonight, so she leaned back, into his body, closing her eyes as he kissed the skin of her throat.

“I’ve never seen a woman this beautiful,” he said, putting his hands on her waist and turning her around so that she faced him.

His lips landed on hers at the same moment he started backing away from the windows, pulling her with him to the plush blue and white checkered couch behind them. As the cushions hit the back of Laire’s knees, she lowered herself to a sitting position, letting Erik reach for her legs and pull them up onto the couch. She lay back, and before she knew it, she felt the heavenly weight of his body pressed against hers as he bracketed her head with his elbows and continued kissing her.

Lying on her back, she could feel every hard muscle, every swell and cove of his body over hers, pressing into hers. As their tongues slid and sucked, she tried arching her hips into his and was rewarded with a low groan of pleasure as he thrust his pelvis against hers, the rigid line of his erection pressing into the apex of her thighs.

“Can I see you?” he asked, kissing her neck as his fingers slid to the top button of her blouse.

“See me?” she panted.

“Remember in the gazebo?” he asked. “You let me touch you. I want to see you too.”

“Oh.” He was asking if he could see her breasts, and the idea was so erotic to her that she felt muscles deep, deep inside her body flex and release. “Yes.”

His fingers carefully unbuttoned her shirt as he kissed a path from the base of her neck to the simple lace border of her white cotton bra. Leaning up just slightly, he parted her blouse. She felt the cool air kiss her skin and shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked, nuzzling his nose against the erect tip of her cotton-covered nipple.

“N-no, I’m . . .” She gulped. “Maybe it’s bad, but I want more.”

One hand covered the swell of her breast, but with the other he cupped her face. “Nothin’ we do is bad. Nothin’. I care so much for you, Laire. So much.”

“Me too,” she said, taking a deep breath and smiling at him. “Our rules. I want you to touch me there.”

Dipping his head to kiss her lips, she felt his fingers unhook her front-clasp bra and gently spread the cotton cups. He lifted his head, looking into her eyes with such profound tenderness, Laire’s own eyes burned with tears as she watched him lower his gaze to her breasts.

He winced, as she would were she in pain, then seized her eyes again. “I’ve never seen anything as perfect as you.”

“Touch me, Erik,” she murmured, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back onto a throw pillow.

One of his hands landed softly on her right breast, his palm a gentle friction on the distended nipple. The other hand cupped her left breast, his thumb brushing the sensitive tip for a moment before she felt the soft, wet heat of his lips suck the aching nub into his mouth.

She gasped from the sharp sweetness of the sensation, her eyes rolling back in her head as her hips lifted from the couch, seeking, demanding more from the source of her pleasure. His tongue swirled around one nipple as his thumb and forefinger gently rolled the other to a peak. Covering her damp skin with the warmth of his palm, he skimmed his lips across her chest and licked a circle around the tip of her other breast. When he sucked the erect bud into his mouth, she writhed beneath him, her pelvis pressing into his chest with urgency.

She rested her forearm across her eyes, listening to her quick and choppy breathing. “Erik,” she sobbed, “I need . . . I need . . .”

More.

So much more.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his breath hot then cold over her glistening skin.

But she didn’t know what to ask for. She didn’t know how to put it into words. She only knew that he was the only one who’d provided the relief she’d found in the gazebo. He knew how to take care of her.

“Please,” she whispered.

He raised his head, and a thick lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. “I can make it better, darlin’. You want me to make it better?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, biting down on her lower lip as she moved her hips in frustration.

His fingers trailed down the naked skin of her belly, skimming and tickling her soft skin until he reached the button of her black skirt. He popped it open, then reached for her zipper. As the teeth opened slowly, she had a moment of panic, and her eyes popped open. She lurched up, resting her hands over his.

“I can’t—”

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“No, I . . . Erik, I can’t be . . .”

“What?” he asked, a small smile softening his face.

“Naked,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks flush.

His smile widened, though she sensed he was trying to control it. He swallowed slowly, then cleared his throat, adjusting his hand under hers. He rested it, flat and still, on her skirt, over the place that throbbed for him. “Is this okay?”

She nodded. “Mm-hm.”

Holding her eyes, he slowly shifted his hand, slipping it under the waistband of her panties and flattening it on the warm flesh of her lower belly. “Is this okay?”

She imagined that the tips of his fingers were touching the tight strawberry blonde curls that no human fingers had ever touched except hers and her doctor’s. But this was Erik. And Erik loved her. She was certain of it.

“Mm-hm,” she sighed, sliding her own hands away and letting them rest on the couch beside her hips. She closed her eyes as his fingers dipped lower, spreading the soft folds of skin that hid the aching little button of nerves beneath.

She gasped sharply as his finger came into contact with that part of her, whimpering with pleasure and just a little bit of fear that had nothing to do with trusting Erik and everything to do with the feelings, the changes, the symphony of sensations pulling her head and her heart and her very soul in too many new directions to follow.

“It’s okay,” he whispered close to her ear, sucking the lobe between his lips as his finger slid against that hidden place once again.

“Errriiiik,” she murmured, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

His finger dipped lower for a moment, and when it returned to slide between her silky folds, it was wet and slick, the digit slipping back and forth across the aching nub with increasing speed and pressure.

He trailed gentle kisses along the column of her throat, resting his lips against her throbbing pulse as she started breaking apart. Her fingers twisted into the couch cushions as her head strained back against the pillow, her hips flexed up to meet his every touch and slide. Breathing faster and faster, she felt the convulsions start deep, deep within her body, radiating out until her entire body was shuddering with pleasure so intense, she felt tears roll from the corners of her eyes.

“I love you,” Erik whispered. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone before.”

“I . . . I love . . . y-you too,” she panted.

His lips claimed hers hungrily as he slipped his fingers from her panties. Gathering her into his arms, he shifted them both to their sides, facing one another and holding her as her body shuddered and shook from the aftershocks of bliss. She rested in his arms, limp and sated as he wiped tears into her hair with the pad of his thumb. And she knew—in that moment she knew—how it felt to be utterly loved, and she trusted him, this man so different from her in every way, with a depth and width and breadth that she never could have imagined was possible.

When she could finally open her eyes, she looked directly into his.

“Erik . . . that was . . .”

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his lips lightly to hers.

“But what about you?” she asked, feeling the stony ridge of his erection pushing against her.

“Do you . . . do you want to touch it?” he asked, searching her eyes.

It felt wrong to say no, because she sensed he needed the same relief she’d just enjoyed, but she wasn’t ready; it felt more wrong to say yes.

“Will you hate me if I tell you I’m not ready yet?”

“One,” he said, kissing her forehead, “I could never hate you. And two,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose, “we go at your pace. Always at your pace. No matter what.” She arched her back and rubbed her breasts against his chest, feeling languorous and lucky, but he gently pushed her away. “That said? I need to excuse myself for a few minutes. I’ll be right back, okay?”

It took her a moment to realize why he needed to leave, but then it occurred to her: if she couldn’t give him relief, he’d have to give it to himself. Oh. She took a deep breath as he stood up. His footsteps retreated up the stairs, and she heard a door close. He was . . . he was . . .

She gasped as her heart sped up. She imagined his hands on that part of himself, and her recently spent muscles spasmed one last, unexpected time as she pictured his face in the throes of pleasure. She wanted to see it. God, how she wanted to see what he looked like when he experienced the same waves of bliss she’d just felt within her own body.

Not yet, whispered her heart as she sat up and gazed at the stairs he’d disappeared up. Maybe someday, but not yet. Wait until you have a plan.

She swung her legs over the side of the couch and reached for the clasps of her bra, which she fastened before pulling the halves of her blouse closed. As she buttoned it, she stood, tucking it back into her black miniskirt, which had bunched up around her waist. She straightened the skirt, running her palms over the black twill, then paused for a moment to listen, to see if she could hear Erik. But no. The house was completely silent.

Sighing, she reached for a lamp and turned it on, walking around the dimly lit room slowly, gently fingering a blue and white ceramic elephant sitting on the top of the shiny black grand piano. Just beyond the figurine was a collection of framed photos, many of Erik. Little peeks into his life before her.

She picked up a photo of him wearing a cap and gown, no doubt his high school graduation picture, and smiled back at the look of triumph on his handsome face. As her gaze widened, she was distracted by the two people flanking him: a burly, blond young man, and a stunning young woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes. Erik had his arms around their shoulders, and they all laughed at the camera.

Old friends. Her heart pinched as she stared at the beautiful girl whose head was resting on Erik’s shoulder, even as she faced forward. I wonder who she is.

Relieved that the photo was taken several years ago, which meant the girl was part of his past, she set the frame back on the piano and picked up another: this one of Erik beside a girl who had blonde hair and blue eyes and was the spitting image of Governor Rexford. Surely this was his little sister, Hillary, and Laire smiled at the photo, hoping that one day, in the very far-off future, that she and Hillary Rexford might be friends.

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to see Erik, wearing a big smile, his shorts no longer tented uncomfortably.

“All good?” she asked, still grinning from the photos.

He crossed the room and drew her into his arms. “Much better now.”

“I was looking at your pictures.” She pointed to the photo of him and Hillary. “Your sister?”

He nodded. “That’s Hills.”

“You look nothing alike.”

He steered her away from the pictures on the piano, toward the windows. Opening one of the doors for her, she preceded him out onto the pool deck. “Everyone says that. She looks like our dad. I favor my mom.”

Laire’s shoes were still inside, so she walked barefoot to the edge of the pool and sat down, dangling her legs in the aqua blue water. “I look like my mother too. She was a redhead.”

“And your sisters?”

“Both gingers, like me. You’d recognize them as my family on sight.”

Erik sat down beside her, putting his feet in the water. “You know, I was thinkin’. My family comes out here for Thanksgivin’ every year. What would you think about spendin’ it here with us?”

“Erik—” she started, coming up with a million reasons to refuse him.

“Will you just think about it?” he asked. “It could be, like, a goal for us—to tell our families about our relationship and introduce them to each other. After you came here, I could go back to Corey with you and meet your father and sisters.”

Her promise to herself to tell her father about her job in Hatteras after Kyrstin’s wedding had already been broken. She couldn’t even risk telling her father about her job, for fear he’d make her quit, destroying the ease with which she saw Erik every night. But the hope in Erik’s eyes made it impossible for her to say no, though she felt certain she would be unable to do as he requested. It would take years for her to prepare her father for the reality of Erik Rexford in her life. And even after years, he still wouldn’t like it.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“That’s better than nothin’, I guess,” he said, putting his arm around her.

“Hey,” she said, hoping to lift his mood. “I had an idea for next Sunday!”

“What’s next Sunday?” he asked.

Her cheeks flared with heat. She’d just assumed they’d do something together next Sunday, as they had last week. Oh, shoot. Had she presumed too much?

“Well, I’m free for the day after brunch again,” she said softly.

“And you’re askin’ me out on a date?”

She took a deep breath. That sounded so forward. Is that what she was doing? Yes. Yes, it was.

My goodness, she thought, how much I’ve changed in a handful of weeks, asking a man out on a date. It’s something she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing before meeting Erik.

“Our rules,” he murmured softly, as if somehow knowing she needed a little encouragement.

“Yes,” she said, grateful for the semidarkness, which hid her red cheeks. “Yes, I am asking you out on a date, Erik Rexford.”

He chuckled happily, raising her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. “I accept! What did you have in mind?”

With a heart lighter than air, she told him about the haunted lighthouse of Currituck Beach, the fishing pier up in Duck, the wild horses in Corolla, and a play called The Lost Colony over on Roanoke Island. She’d researched these previously unknown attractions on the computer at King Triton after Erik’s Wednesday visit, she told him proudly, and he kissed her tenderly for her ingenuity and bravery.

“That’s dates for every Sunday until the end of the summer,” he said, grinning down at her. “I really might start to think you’re into me, Laire Cornish.”

“Oh, I am,” she said softly, winding her arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to hers. “I am completely into you, Erik Rexford.”