At the insistent chiming of the lighthouse bell a few days later, Jay opened the door to find berry-colored lips pressed into a resigned thin line.

“This is a surprise.”

So surprising, adrenalin still pumped through him. The sight of her was both a salve to his soul and punch to the gut. She had her hair piled on top of her head, and his fingers itched to remove the pins, to see those thick, shiny locks fall to her shoulders.

She’d slap him, no doubt about it.

But ever since feeling her weight against him in nothing but her skimpy underwear—the look in her eyes, the hitch in her breath—he hadn’t been able to think of anything else. There was something about her that made him feel like he was unraveling, but she was the only thing that could keep him together at the same time.

Made no God damn sense.

“I’m not here for you.” She cut right to the point.

He dipped his chin. For every moment she softened toward him, another only showed that her resolve to keep her distance had strengthened. He didn’t blame her, but he wanted to.

He’d just have to work harder.

Opening door farther, he stepped away. “Come on in.”

“Nope.”

He hesitated, drinking in the sight of her.

She had on her overalls again, which only filled his head with ideas that would get him killed. Instead of her signature wedges or heels, her feet were covered in a pair of bright yellow Converse sneakers.

“No?” He rubbed his chest in confusion, delighted when her eyes followed the action and went dark with her dilating pupils.

She shook her head. “I made that mistake already. We don’t seem to do well in confined places together.”

The memory of her straddling his body jerked his dick to attention. “Actually, Bean, I’d say we do very well in confined places.” His voice dropped an octave with the memory.

“Too well.” She lifted one side of her lip in an Elvis scowl and dismissed the direction he’d hoped to take the conversation.

But he had to try. Anything to see that heat in her eyes or the unconscious way she darted out the pink tip of her tongue and licked her lips.

Fuck.

“We need to go over our options for directors, so we can vet out those we want on the board,” she said.

“But we can’t do this inside?”

“Nope.”

It made sense, and nothing made him happier than the fact she didn’t trust herself with him. His dick agreed.

If she worried, then she still cared.

And if she cared…then maybe there was still a chance for them.

“Fine. Let me grab my sneakers.”

He felt her eyes on him as he shoved his feet into his Nikes, wishing he knew what was going on in that head of hers. It would take time, but he’d find out. Maybe he’d even break some ground today. They needed to develop a friendship once again if he had any hope of something more. And God damn, he wanted more.

It had always boggled his mother’s mind that he insisted on taking on the hardest challenges, but he’d learned long ago, they paid off the greatest reward.

And nothing was greater than Blayne MacCaffrey.

He joined her and closed the door behind him. “Don’t we need to take notes, make our list, and brainstorm?”

“I know this town. As soon as I get home, I’ll get everything we discussed down on paper and you can approve it. We can set up a meeting next week to get a feel for who’s interested.”

“Did you just give me permission to approve something, and I didn’t have to win a game or bet first? I’d say this is progress,” he teased, grabbing her hand.

She resisted at first but soon fell into step.

“There’s a tree Ryker and I loved to climb when we were kids. Come on, I’ll show you.”

They made their way past the fountain in the circle drive and the memorial going up next to the newly built well where Archer’s old well used to be. Her gaze lingered. Her frown made him want to wrap her in his arms and promise that bad things wouldn’t happen.

“We’re climbing trees now, are we?” She tugged her hand away.

He released it, not wanting to push her limits, but the loss was immediate, and he flexed his fingers against empty air.

Leading her down the path toward the woods, he laughed. “Please, I can’t think of anything you wouldn’t climb. From what I hear, that includes the corporate ladder.”

“For a bit. But it didn’t suit.”

They broke into the ethereal world of the cape woods, all the noise of reality muffled into a soft hum of life and potential. “I’ve always loved it here. There’s something so special about this property. It’s like we’ve stepped into another world. Reminds me of home.”

The mention of Ireland was like tightening a noose around his neck. “When was the last time you were home?”

He slowed. “Please tell me you’ve gone home.”

She ignored him as they passed a small bench and hummingbird feeders near an active apiary. A little grin spread her red lips wide. He could stare at that smile for the rest of his life and never get bored.

“What?” he asked.

“Larkin. She’s afraid of bees.”

“But Ryker’s a beekeeper.” He watched the hum and activity of the box. Ryker’s grandfather used to take Ryker with him as a boy. Jay was glad to see his friend reconnecting with his good memories from the Cape. Lord knows the bad ones were too awful to think about. “Has he convinced her to give it a try yet?”

She rose a brow. “Larkin? No way. In fact, she almost killed them both running from a few irritated bees up in the lighthouse lamp room when they’d first met.”

He shook his head. “Those stairs are no joke.” They came upon a big oak that was wider than it was tall.

Walking to the base, he patted the trunk then tilted his head to stare up the length toward the top. “Here she is. I’ve missed you, Daisy.”

“You named a tree Daisy?”

He shrugged. “Ryker and I always thought she looked like a flower because she seemed to bloom so wide instead of being tall. You haven’t answered my question.”

The limbs of the tree started at about chest height. Jay grabbed on to one, then swung his legs up to another and leveraged to a sitting position. As expected, she followed suit on a thick branch next to him. Seeing her straddle the thing made him jealous as hell.

“I couldn’t.”

“But I never dreamed you’d stay here all by yourself,” he said.

“I never dreamed you’d leave.” She returned, using the branches above her to stand, then climbing two limbs above him.

He followed, hoping the weight of his guilt wouldn’t yank him to the ground.

With his arm looped around a branch, he held her gaze. “Blayne, I was a selfish, eighteen-year-old bastard.”

“Why did you ask me to come with you?” Her softly spoken question shredded his soul.

It was time to splay it wide open. “I fell head over heels in love with a Bean Laoch, my warrior.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you’re not going to give me an answer—”

“But I am. I loved you, never stopped.”

Turning away from him, she closed her eyes.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms, to take it all back. Desperation and determination warred with how to show her he’d changed. Grown up.

“No excuse I have is going to make it okay. I was selfish, driven. Too often given everything I’d wanted but desperate to prove I’d earned every bit of it. I thought I couldn’t say no.”

“So, you left.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he nodded. “By the next morning, I’d figured out I’d made the biggest mistake of my life, but I knew I’d have to prove my worth to you before showing up at your door.”

She snapped her head around. “What?! You were going to come home?”

“I had the return tickets bought, but I kept playing our last conversation over in my head. You said if I left to never return.”

Incredulous, her mouth dropped. “So, it’s my fault?!”

His error caught too late. “No. Never. None of it was you. That’s not what I meant.”

She moved to climb down, but he grabbed her arm. “Don’t touch me.” She ground out, her eyes shiny with tears.

Fuck.

“Just wait a second.” He kept her by his side. “I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck, Blayne. I ditched you, for Christ’s sake. There was no way I could show my face to you again until I proved myself. Until—”

“Stop.” She trembled. “Stop with all the proving shit, Jamie. I never asked you to prove anything to me. I loved you.” The words ripped from her throat, and she stopped to swallow.

“I loved you for you. I didn’t care that you were an Astor or where we lived or if you were given everything you had. I loved how hard we played, how hard we worked…how hard we loved. You broke me.” Her breath caught, and he reached for her.

“No.” She stiffened. “Give me some space.”

The pain in his chest was suffocating, but he’d deal with it tenfold if he could take away the pain he’d caused her.

Yet there was so much more, so many reasons he’d thought staying away was the answer.

Jay had loved his childhood, the events and travel and opportunities. He loved and respected both of his parents. They were an adoring, close-knit family. Always there for each other even when they were apart. “Family first” was the motto drilled into him since he could talk.

But his mom had always been left behind while his father had pursued success. When his father was home, he’d take his mother on a trip as if it were the solution to all her loneliness—a passport payoff of sorts. At least that’s how it had seemed.

How could he ever get her to understand that he’d refused to make her live the solitary life hoisted onto his mother’s shoulders?

Or his need to prove that he was much more than just the heir to the Astor throne?

And as James Alexander Wilmington Astor the III, it had been his duty to follow suit. More so, he’d been determined to show everyone he’d deserved to. His drive to succeed in the short term had blinded him to what he’d wanted in his future.

He hadn’t expected the opportunity to come when it had, and he’d thought they’d have more time. He thought he had time to establish a relationship with her and find a different way for the next Mrs. Astor to live that would be more fulfilling. But his sense of duty, his drive to succeed hadn’t been her responsibility.

He’d talked himself into believing it was kinder to encourage her to go home to Ireland and live a full life than one dictated by the ties of his family’s history. Always left waiting for him to come home.

He shook his head. “Blayne.”

She climbed higher. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

The tightness in her voice was more than enough warning, but he had to do the hard thing and pursue it anyway.

Joining her in the middle of the treetop, he straddled the branch she was on and faced her.

“Look.” He adjusted his position. “I couldn’t ask you to keep following me around because of my family business.” Regret piled so high, he could barely see around it.

She stared him in the eye. “You never asked. You explained, but you refused to discuss it. You decided for me…which I hated the most. As if I didn’t have an intelligent thought of my own. And then you left me, Jamie. You left and never hesitated.”

“I did. I told you.”

“But you didn’t.” She leaned against the trunk. “If you had, you’d have known I’d stayed. If you had talked to me, you’d have known that I could not go running to my da after hurting him the way we did.”

The sorrow in her eyes tore at him.

“He warned me. Did I ever tell you that?” she asked softly, her voice thick. “He told me our haste and our actions were selfish. But I ignored him because nothing was going to keep me from being with you.” She closed her eyes against the sight of him. “But you didn’t feel the same for me.”

He shot his hand out. “No. Blayne. That’s not—”

“You left,” she interrupted. Two words that told a story he was ashamed to star in.

All the years flashed through his mind. Holidays, birthdays, simple weekends. She’d missed them all. Trying to protect her from himself, from his mother’s lonely existence, only left her lonelier than she ever would have been as his wife.

Hell, he’d hate him, too.

“Wow. That is the truth of it, isn’t it?” she whispered, her lip trembling. “All this time, I’ve been so mad at you, but I’m the real one to blame. I should have never left Ireland.”

He shook her head. “What we had was special. If you hadn’t come with me, we would have never—”

Bewilderment widened her eyes. “Never what? Broken up? Been alone? None of it mattered. I devastated my father, abandoned my siblings…and for what? A boy who didn’t really love me.”

She blinked and gazed past him, with a shudder. Her eyes roamed the landscape behind him for a few silent moments. “But I never would have had this. I do have you to thank for that.”

He tried to swallow, but his throat closed at the finality in her tone. Glancing over his shoulder, he stared across the cape toward the lighthouse and the Atlantic beyond. It was a breathtaking view and somehow made his actions worse than he’d imagined.

“I’m sorry.” He wanted to shout at her for saying he didn’t love her, but the truth was, he had to take responsibility for his actions back then. “I fucked up, then convinced myself I was doing what was right. I made a huge mistake, but you can’t say I didn’t love you. We were best friends.”

“Friends?” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Friends don’t abandon each other, Jamie. Larkin would never walk away from me like that.”

His gut twisted as she seemed to slide further away even though he could reach out and touch her.

“We work together. We dated once upon a time.” She leaned toward an adjacent branch and grabbed on, then slid her legs from the one they shared. Branch by branch, she made her way down the tree until she paused and looked back up at him through the newly budding branches.

The hollow look in her gaze dropped all his hope like a stone in his gut.

“But we are not friends.”

* * *

Blayne forced the words out. She had to make Jamie think there was nothing between them in order to keep herself from running to him. The sincerity in his eyes, the passion in his voice had tugged at her in such a way that she wanted to abandon all thoughts of reason and open up to him once again.

She couldn’t let that happen.

It was time to get on with her life. To connect with her family. She’d learned a very hard lesson about trust, about who and what she could count on.

Love certainly wasn’t it. It came with conditions and ultimatums.

Larkin loved her. But she wasn’t her friend’s priority and shouldn’t be.

Her da told if she left to never come back. The words had torn her in two and must have been a family motto since she’d been guilty of the same with Jamie.

Karma may have been sending her a message, but so had common sense. She was not destined for a forever love. A heavy weight forced a sigh from her lips as she slipped to the earthy floor, the crunch of dried leaves and pine needles reminding her of the consequence of trusting someone—of loving someone.

So here she was, faced with all the feelings she wasn’t good with, and had to find a way to stay strong. The answer was keeping the one man she’d ever loved at arm’s length.

He dropped down beside her, the vibration of his landing reverberating through her body. “The hell we aren’t.” His voice held an edge that skittered up her spine.

The stone gray of his eyes seemed to harden with the most delicious intensity when he was upset, and she tried to ignore the hold they had on her. “Look, we need to talk about the board of directors. As much as I hate admitting that Ryker is right about anything, we do work well together. So, let’s work.”

She ran her fingers along the spongy moss carpeting a large boulder, braced for a fight.

“Fine.”

His acquiescence startled her more than if he’d yelled. She walked ahead, afraid to make eye contact, which burned her ass even more. It was time to buck up. Take charge. There was no other way to survive him. With a surge of rebellion, she glanced at him.

He was a giant in the forest, looking like a man determined to win.

Her heart sped up in her chest. She couldn’t think of a time that he’d ever lost.

“Dr. Stanton,” she blurted out.

With a nod, he stepped up beside her. “Good choice. I was also thinking Clint Fenwick.”

She rolled her eyes. “Really? That man patrols the good people of Cape Van Buren closer than Sheriff Davenport.” She didn’t even try to hide her disgust.

Jamie’s laugh was hard and swift and made her belly flutter.

“You just don’t like anyone telling you what to do.”

“Well, that’s because other people are stupid.” She climbed up and over a cluster of rocks, then jumped to another clearing. “They always think they somehow have the right to tell you how to live your life and what that should look like.” She shook her head, continuing forward.

The sounds of the ocean called to her. She loved the rhythm and flow of the crashing waves. The crisp spray of the sea breeze, almost like a cleansing, like starting anew. “I’ll never understand—

“Stop talking. Don’t move.” Jamie snapped in a fierce whisper.

She spun around. “Are you kidding?” Had the bloke gone mad? She certainly didn’t take orders from him.

But the look on his face had nothing to do with judgment and everything to do with concern.

A few rough bluffs came from up the path she was on.

Slowly, she turned her head until she was looking in the eyes of a huge moose. A cow with a small calf trailing behind it.

Adrenaline raced through her limbs, leaving her hands and feet stinging with pins and needles. “Jamie,” she whispered. Her heart thumped in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

The cow was too close to run from, but if it didn’t turn around, that was her only option.

She moved away, but the moose stepped toward her, and she froze.

Jamie carefully stepped down from the rock beside her. “Steady,” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was barely a desperate breeze of sound, but the moose’s ears laid back, and the large animal licked her lips. A sure sign that she was not happy.

“I’m here.” His voice registered as if whispered from miles away.

The moose stomped on the ground. Jamie closed the space between them, now in the sights of the moose as well. She released a few hard bluffs, then charged.

“Drop!” In one hard push, Jamie shoved her to the ground then covered her body with his own. The moose stomped her huge hooves next to them. She couldn’t see anything with her head tucked and his body blocking out the light, but she felt the shudder and felt the spray of dirt.

The commotion continued for what felt like a lifetime.

Jamie kept cover over her body with a few grunts, swears, and a prayer, then the thundering of hooves faded off in the distance.

The two of them stayed wrapped tight in their little cocoon, heavy breaths and heartbeats all she could hear. Jamie adjusted above her, then slowly moved off her to the dirt at her side.

“Holy fuck.”

She peeked down the path to find their angry friend gone, and gingerly sunk to her backside. “Ohmygod.”

Jamie’s jaw was set, and he was holding the side of his right thigh as he watched to make sure the moose wasn’t returning for round two.

“Are you okay?” She slid closer to him, the smell of earth and sea mixing with his cologne.

With a nod, he sighed.

“What were you thinking?” she ground out.

He held her gaze with a stubborn glare of his own. “She wasn’t letting you move, and I wasn’t going to leave you out here alone.”

Her pulse refused to slow down, and tears of relief or fear or both burned behind her eyelids. What the hell had he been thinking? He could have been hurt.

She punched him in the arm, but before he could respond, she grabbed him and yanked him to her chest.

“Blayne.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” She kissed the top of his head, keeping her arms wrapped around as much of his large frame as she could. “I can’t believe you did that.”

She’d never been so scared in her life.

He held her gaze. “I’m okay.”

“You got hurt.” She glanced at the tear in his cargos and the red skin visible beneath. Her throat constricted.

“And I’ll heal.”

“Don’t play it off. Oh my god.” She tried to get a better look, but he held her to him instead. She could hear the pounding of his heart in the silence of the woods.

What made him do it? Guilt for the past, a need to make things right? Whatever it was, she felt awful. She never wanted to see him hurt, especially not over her. There was plenty of pain going on in this world. What happened between the two of them didn’t need to add any more to it.

She grabbed his face and held it between her palms. “Don’t ever do something so stupid again.”

His eyes darkened with something that wrapped around her in a warm embrace. The corner of his mouth lifted in half-smile of understanding. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“I’ll worry if I want to.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she covered it with her own.

The feel of his lips forced a small moan from her throat, and he tightened his hold.

She slid her mouth against the tempting fullness of his, relearning a terrain she’d known only too well so many years ago. His taste slammed her into a vault of memories, but with the potency of reality, the urgency of now.

Pressing into him, she took the kiss further, needing to feel what it was like to be in his arms again. Arms that were so familiar yet so changed. There was a fullness, a thickness to his body now that delighted her senses, weakened her knees, and set off a flutter of awareness so deep, no one kiss would ever be enough.

She skimmed the hard mounds of his shoulders and deep valleys and ridges of his back, an excitement of discovery fueling her curiosity.

On a growl, he leaned back, taking her with him. She pressed her breasts against his chest, trying to ease her wanting, and dove even deeper into the ocean of the kiss.

“Fuck, woman.” He grabbed her hips, holding her to him as he moved against her.

Her tongue slid along his, and he groaned low in his chest. Emboldened, she stroked her tongue against his again and again. She bit his lip with a gentle tug, then soothed the area with the caress of her mouth desperate to taste him, as if she’d never have the chance again. “Jamie,” she whispered against his lips.

“I’m here.” His voice rasped out as he caressed her sides until they found themselves tangled in her hair. The pins she’d used that morning to stack it high on her head fell to the dirt beside them and her hair tumbled about their faces.

The large, fingers of one hand massaged her neck, while his other slid to the exposed skin along the seams of her overalls, making her body scream to be touched.

A loud crack pierced through the sensual cloud of her brain, reminding her where they were and what they’d just encountered.

She kissed his lips, then his face, easing back just a bit.

His grip on her tightened. “Bean, wait.”

She stared into his eyes, always amazed by the transparency she found there. “Thank you.” She kissed him. “Thank you for protecting me.”

He pushed her dark hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Take it back,” he demanded, the timbre of his voice low.

She stiffened. “What?”

“Tell me we’re friends.” The need shining from his eyes was more than attraction, it was more than a casual encounter.

Her head demanded she deny him, to protect herself. But her heart…her heart couldn’t beat so close to his and lie.

“We’re friends,” she whispered, but moved away, brushing the pine needles and dirt from her overalls. Once she was a safe distance from him, she added. “But only friends.”

His dipped his chin, but there was a stubborn glint in his eyes, and a fissure of excitement shot straight to her core. She’d almost forgotten how intoxicating it was to be wanted by this man.

Hiccup.