Page 66 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Maybe. Probably not, though.” Logan rubbed the pad of his thumb over my pulse point. “You could write to them. Explain.”

I weighed the idea. It was heavy, daunting. But I couldn’t quite dismiss it either. “I’ll think about it.”

He sent me a smile and didn’t push.

Another bright minute stretched between us, gentle waves lapping against the hull of the boat, fish darting through the water. We’d need to head back soon, and in a way, Logan and I hadn’t solved anything—he was still leaving. Yet somehow, now that he knew me,reallyknew me... I wasn’t ready to let him go. And even if he hadn’t said it, I was sure he felt the same.

We’d find a way.

13

Astiff breeze caught in Logan’s shaggy hair and tugged on the hem of his loose tank top, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’d grown quiet again on our way back from the bay, thoughtful and withdrawn just like he’d been earlier this morning. Same reason?

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

His faraway gaze slid to me and focused. “Just... this thing I’ve got to handle. Like I told you.”

Well, that was vague. I eased theBlueberry Seasup to the pier before I shot him a searching look. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Yes. Just not right now.” His mouth pulled tight before he forced a smile and exhaled, his eyes warming when they met mine. “How about I tell you over dinner?”

We’d done a few dinners in his cabin—Logan and Tom ordering room service while Nia and I contributed whatever looked edible from the staff kitchen. Logan’s tone implied more than a casual get-together, though.

I hesitated. “Like a date?”

His smile turned real. “Nothing ‘like’ about it. A date.”

“Oh.” Look at me—a beacon of eloquence. About to secure theboat, I stilled, fingers clenched around the mooring lines. Adate. In public? “I’d... Yeah. I’d like that. Tonight?”

“Great, yes.” He hesitated for a moment so brief I almost missed it. “I was thinking dinner in Roseau? Just the two of us.”

In public, yes.

I looped the ropes around the cleats on the dock, the familiar movement calming the quiver in my stomach. A sideways glance showed nervous tension in the curve of Logan’s shoulders, waiting for my reaction. Somehow, it made me breathe more easily.

“Sounds good,” I said, and everything about him brightened.

“Seven?” he asked. “We can take my car.”

“I’ll make the reservation.”

“Sure.” His grin was sweet,fond, as though my need to retain some form of control was… not amusing, nothing quite that patronizing. But like he understood and liked me more for it.

“Great,” I said because clearly, my vocabulary had taken a swan-dive into the realm of monosyllables. Logan’s grin softened and it echoed warm in my stomach, like liquid sunshine.

“There’s stuff we should talk about.” He looked away and back at me. “About us, yeah? And me. Things you should know. And, uh. The future.”

The future.

My stupid little heart pulsed once, hard, and I couldn’t suppress a smile even as I aimed for a wry tone. “You know, between your word salad just now and mine earlier—if incoherence were a currency, we’d both be rolling in it.”

Logan’s laugh was dizzying in its brightness, the sea caught in his eyes. God, he was everything. I didn’t bother checking who might see—just stepped into his space, tangled both hands in his hair, and pulled him in for a harsh kiss that didn’t bother with polite pretense.

If anyone had a problem with us? Well, fuck them. They could talk to my middle finger.

I wasdoneholding back.

Richard crashedinto the end of my lunch break.

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