Page 29 of California Wild

Hayley’s breath caught.

Something sharp lodged itself in her chest.

Jesse turned toward the water, exhaling slowly, the breeze pulling at his golden curls.

And that was Jesse, wasn’t it?

Mysterious and frustrating and impossible.

Always holding something back, even when he was right there.

The sky stretched wide above them, clear and cloudless, the sun hovering just over the horizon, painting the Pacific in molten gold.

Hayley exhaled, pressing her toes into the sand, feeling its give beneath her weight.

Then—“Thanks for that message. Really.”

She turned toward him, hesitating. “It meant a lot.”

Jesse didn’t move.

Didn’t fidget, didn’t shift his weight like he was uncomfortable. He just stood there, watching her, his presence so still, so heavy in its quietness.

“You deserved an apology,” he said simply.

Hayley studied him, taking him in—the sharp, sun-warmed angles of his face, the way the golden strands of his hair caught in the breeze, the way his mouth, those sinful lips, curved just slightly.

He was right there.

Inches away.

So close but never closing the gap.

Her pulse skipped, traitorous, unsteady.

He smelled like salt and leather and something darker underneath. Something that made her dizzy.

Jesse exhaled slowly, looking past her, toward the ocean.

Then, after a beat—“I hit rock bottom after you left.”

The words landed heavy, unexpected.

Hayley’s breath hitched.

Jesse wasn’t looking at her now. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, the way the waves broke against the shore, rhythmic and endless.

“Drugs. Booze. Girls. Whatever I could get my hands on,” he said, voice even. “It got bad.”

Hayley swallowed, the wind tangling around them. “How bad?”

His mouth pressed into a hard line. “Bad enough that Adam wanted me gone.”

Her chest squeezed.

Jesse never talked about his team. Not really.

She knew how much it meant to him, how SEAL life was the only thing anchoring him to anything real.

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