Page 143 of California Wild

She didn’t say, I’m protecting myself.

Instead, Hayley stood, barefoot on the warm floorboards, and walked toward him. Jesse turned just enough to meet her halfway, the grease smudge on his temple catching the light. She grabbed his jaw in both hands and kissed him—not soft, not casual. Fast. Hot. Needy.

His breath caught.

He responded instantly, his hand dropping the glass of water to the counter as his mouth crushed hers in return. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her against him. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling, teeth catching, all heat and pressure and tension that had nowhere else to go. For a second, she forgot everything—her exhaustion, the nausea, the gig. Forgot the baby. Forgot the fear. Forgot Caiden.

There was just Jesse. Warm. Solid. Real.

She pulled back, breathless. “You taste like motor oil.”

He smirked, lips brushing hers. “You taste like crackers.”

“You wanna go for a walk?” he asked, voice rough, thumb stroking over her cheek. “Grab something to eat on the way? You can head into the city after.”

Hayley blinked. Nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

She didn’t want to think yet. Didn’t want to talk about her setlist or her outfit or the thousand people waiting to see her tonight.

She just wanted a little more of this.

They walked the short stretch down to the sand, the sun dipping lower in the sky but the heat still clinging to the pavement. Early spring in San Diego felt more like July. The ocean breeze was the only thing keeping it tolerable, and she tilted her face toward it as they hit the boardwalk, Jesse’s hand warm and firm in hers.

They didn’t say much for a while.

Didn’t have to.

There was something easy in the way they moved together. Familiar. His thumb brushing lazy circles against her palm. Her fingers laced tightly through his like she didn’t want to let go.

A few blocks up, they hit a taco truck posted near the dunes. Bright yellow paint. Cheap music spilling from a tinny speaker.

Jesse grinned. “Still got that disgusting carnitas obsession?”

“Only if there’s pineapple.”

He ordered for both of them, slipping the vendor a few extra bucks when he thought she wasn’t looking. They ate while walking barefoot along the edge of the surf, foil-wrapped tacos warm in their hands, the tortillas flaking apart in the breeze.

Hayley laughed when his second taco exploded all over his wrist. He cursed under his breath and licked hot sauce off his fingers. She swore he did it slowly, just to watch her squirm.

They talked about nothing. About the ocean. About his team. About a ridiculous reality show she’d started binging on tour.

But as they turned back, heading toward his place, the warmth in her chest started to twist.

She looked up at him. “Where do you see us when the baby comes?”

Jesse’s stride faltered. Just a flicker. Then he smoothed it over.

“Someplace better,” he said.

She stopped walking. Turned toward him. “That’s not an answer.”

He glanced out at the water. Then back at her. “I don’t know, Hayley. I’m not good at the five-year plan thing.”

“I’m not asking for five years. I’m asking if you’re even staying in San Diego.”

Jesse shifted his weight, his expression guarded. “I want to.”

“But are you?”

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