Page 35 of Her Wild Coast Promise

“I’ve never seen an owl that big.” My heart is still pounding in my chest.

“Everything up here is big,” Seth says.

So it seems. Like my rampant libido. I picture Seth’s big arms cradling me as he carries me off to bed. I force myself to stop there—because big hands likely aren’t the only part of his anatomy that fits that description.

“So how do we find this unicorn ally?” Seth asks, snapping me back to the conversation.

“Leave that…to me.”

“I don’t have time for games.”

“Games?” I get out. Either Seth is running faster now or I’m nearing my limit.

“Courting, ego stroking, making promises…”

“Not all relationships are built like that.”

He grunts.

I wait for more—is this just from Peyton Reece or does it go deeper? But he adds, “My point is the department needs me right now.”

“About that.” I’m doing my best to keep up with him, but my brain is getting fuzzy from lack of oxygen. “Task force?”

“What about it?”

“What…are…you working on?”

Seth goes quiet. I sneak a glance, but he’s frowning at the ground ahead.

“No secrets, remember?” I manage without gasping for air.

Finally, he side-eyes me. “There are some aspects of my job I cannot share. That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

The way he says it makes my hair follicles burn. “I don’t expect…details. But I can’t work…with one hand tied behind my back.” A flash of desire jolts through me. I picture Seth sliding his tie around my wrists, the fabric warmed from his body and silky against my skin.

“Last mile,” Seth says, flashing me a grin. Is he even sweating right now? “You doing okay?”

“Great,” I lie.

He grins, then shakes his head, as if trying to talk himself out of something.

Back at the house,Seth feeds Rosie and I head upstairs to shower. In the bathroom, I peel off my layers and set my towel on the top of the toilet so I’ll be able to dry off before stepping into the cold. My sweaty skin turns chilled while I turn on the faucet. The water comes out frigid. I hug myself with one arm while adjusting the dial with the other. My toes turn to ice and my breaths shorten. Impatient, I crank the dial all the way. Finally, the water gets warmer.

I scan for the thingy that turns the tap off and the shower head on, but the faucet doesn’t have one. Still shivering, I look everywhere, poking and prodding, looking at the faucet from underneath, but it’s a mystery.

I turn the dial off and wrap myself in my towel seconds before there’s a knock on the door.

I hug myself. “Seth?”

“Forgot to tell you how to turn on the shower,” he calls out from behind the door. “It’s on the faucet.”

“Where?”

My teeth start chattering. In the mirror, my skin looks like a plucked chicken’s and my lips are pale. The tile flooring is so cold my feet are in pain. All I want is to stand under the hot water so I can be warm.

“You want me to show you?”

I cringe at my reflection, then rationalize that my towel offers more coverage than my dress at Noah and Vonnie’s wedding. I pull open the door and step back.

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