Page 19 of When We Are Falling

“You’re doing amazing. Really. I’m glad you’re here.”

I take a sip, the cool water refreshing, and try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Wouldn’t want to be helping out anywhere else. Besides, someone’s got to keep you in line.”

“Guess I’m lucky it’s you,” he says softly, the intensity in his gaze back. Then he produces a small, delicate wildflower, its petals a soft purple. “I saw this in the dunes and thought of you.”

My heart stutters despite how corny it is, and he tucks the flower behind my ear, his touch gentle, careful. He smells of musk and cinnamon and something so distinctly masculine, and the fire is back, spreading through my core.

Mother of all that is holy. This isnotwhat I need.

I don’t want a relationship with anyone, don’t want to get distracted. But when did Ethan get so damn adorable?

Chapter 9

Ethan

The sun is just startingto rise as I arrive at the beach below the lighthouse, the first rays lighting up the oil-streaked sand. We’ve been here all week, and it’s fast becoming the new normal. I try to get here before everyone else to set up, which is fine—I normally wake up early, and I’ve already had a pre-dawn workout at home.

Bandit runs ahead, his tail wagging furiously, darting around despite the early hour. He’s the goodest good boy, able to sit and chill when he needs to, but he still likes to have a run around, even though his muzzle is going gray and he’s slowing down. He knows to stay away from the oil, but I watch him for a few minutes just to make sure he’s being safe.

I take a moment to look around. The sight of the once-pristine beach covered in oil tightens something in my chest. There’s still so much to do.

“Come on, Bandit.” He trots back to me, his tongue lolling out in a happy pant. I ruffle his fur, a bit of his infectiousenthusiasm seeping into me. “We’ve got two goals today, buddy. First, we’re going to get as much of this cleaned up as possible. And second, we’re going to get Blake to have dinner with us tonight.”

Bandit tilts his head as if he understands.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got my work cut out for me on both fronts.”

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Blake, replaying that scene at the bar. Except I don’t stop myself in my fantasy version of events, instead lifting her onto the bar, spreading those perfect legs wide and thrusting into her until she comes undone, screaming my name.

But Blake seems determined to pretend it didn’t happen at all, despite my not so subtle flirting, so we’ve just been working side-by-side all week, even though it’s driving me crazy being so close to her.

Bandit barks at a seagull, pulling me back to reality, and I give him a final pat before grabbing the equipment from the back of my pickup. “Alright, let’s get to it. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”

I set up the cleanup station like I’ve done every morning since we started, organizing equipment and going through the tasks for the day. We can’t leave expensive equipment and supplies out overnight. Even in a small town like ours, strangers with light fingers might help themselves to our tools.

Once it’s done, I take a few moments to plan how we can be more efficient and get this done as soon as possible. Mine and Liam’s business has taken a huge hit already. Canceling charters, disappointing clients—it’s a lot to juggle. But today, my focus is here.

As I work, Bandit stays close, occasionally darting off to investigate a seagull or sniff at a piece of driftwood. I glance up at the lighthouse against the blue of the sky, just as the volunteersstart to arrive, bringing with them a surge of energy to the quiet morning.

Tom Harrison arrives first. He’s carrying boxes of freshly baked goods from Sweet Current Bakery, the scent of warm bread and pastries wafting in the air.

“Morning, Ethan!” He sets the boxes down and runs a hand through his close cropped afro. “Figured everyone could use a little pick-me-up. It’s been a long week.”

I nod appreciatively. “Thanks, Tom. Great idea. I think people are starting to get tired, already. And this is going to take a while, yet.”

Next comes Carlos Ramirez and his brother, lugging a hefty load of supplies from their hardware store. They’re both solid guys, with builds that look like they were made for heavy lifting.

“Got some extra gloves, masks, and a few tools, like you asked,” Carlos says, dropping the supplies with a grunt and grabbing a sweet bun.

“Thanks, fella.” We’re going through gloves and masks faster than I expected.

Joy Parker arrives next, her seven-seater station wagon full of other volunteers, her vibrant auburn hair catching the morning light. Joy is young, from a wealthy family, and owns a boutique in town. Even in her cleanup gear, she looks stylish.

“Hey, everyone!” Her voice is bright and cheerful, and Tom shares out the baked goods while the remaining volunteers trickle in.

And then Blake shows up, making her way across the sand with confident strides, carrying two huge thermoses. Seeing her every morning on the beach, even given the circumstances, is fast becoming the best part of my day. She looks so beautiful, even in her work clothes—jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and a bandana holding back her red hair. The sight of her makes my heart race.

“Morning, Blake.” Trying to keep my tone casual, no doubt failing.

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