Page 48 of Escape to the Sun

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Wakingup in Heather’s arms was just about the nicest thing Ash had experienced in…well, longer than he wanted to remember. Sure, the couch in grande casa wouldn’t have been his first choice for a bed, but given the circumstances, he’d take what he could get. And at that moment, what he could get was the warmth of a woman who felt good in his arms.

No. She felt right.

It had been a long time since a woman had felt right. A really long time. Normally, Ash would fight it. Push it away. Run from it. But with Heather, things were different.

They were easy, comfortable, sexy as hell and…right.

Dammit.

She was sleeping soundly and after the day she’d had before—not to mention the night—she needed her rest. But Ash needed to get up and stretch. And think. He slid his arm out from under her and slipped from the couch. His shorts, which he’d shed in an effort to warm her the night before, were still lying in a crumpled damp ball on the floor, as were her clothes. Ash scooped everything up and left out the garden door.

The sun was shining, the heat of the day already building although it couldn’t be more than seven in the morning. To say it got hot in Panama was a huge understatement. Even after four years, the heat took some getting used to. Living in California most of his adult life, it’s not that he was any stranger to the heat, but it was different. And of course, unlike Panama, there had been a bit of a reprieve from the stifling heat. He’d once enjoyed the cool mornings when the world was still waking up. When everyone, including Carlie, was still in bed and it was only him and the other workaholics on the roads into the office. He’d roll down his window, and let the cool air hit his face on the thirty-minute commute before he spent his entire day inside an air-conditioned building, breathing recycled air, just to turn around and drive home in the dark, long after the sun went down, with the same cooler air hitting him in the face to keep him awake before he got home to his beautiful wife, who more often than not would already be in bed.

Ash hung up the damp clothes on the line and tilted his head to the sun, allowing the heat of the day to warm him while he breathed in fresh, tropical air.

Thinking about Carlie hurt less and less. Maybe his friends—no, he never had friends back home, not really—his coworkers had been on to something. Time did ease the hurt. But it wasn’t just time that had helped him heal from his loss. It was this place. Panama. The jungle. The wildness. The easiness.

It was so different than his old life. It was the exact opposite, really. The change had saved him from total destruction. When he’d lost Carlie, Ash hadn’t thought he’d ever recover. A part of him would never fully heal, and although it had taken awhile, even after he’d landed in Panama City and then found Bocas Town, he’d been able to take a breath without the pain in his chest threatening to destroy him. And then soon, he could take two breaths. And one day, he woke up and it didn’t hurt to live.

It had taken longer to think of Carlie without the hurt dropping him to his knees. A lot longer. It was only recently that he hadn’t needed to lose himself in the arms of another woman just to forget her touch. Things with Heather were different. It wasn’t about forgetting with her. It was about remembering.

Remembering that once upon a time, he’d felt something more than an empty, dull ache.

Holy shit.

The revelation stopped him in his tracks in the middle of the garden. Did being with Heather really do all that for him? Was it more than just a fun fling? He almost laughed at himself. He knew it was more. He’d known since their first kiss. Whether he’d wanted to open his eyes to it or not.

He wouldn’t be able to ignore it forever. More than that, he wasn’t so sure anymore that he wanted to. Ash picked his way through the garden, clearing palm fronds the storm had brought down. He piled them next to the path as he worked in the quiet morning. The storm hadn’t been as destructive as he’d thought it might be. At least, not in the garden. There were a few crushed plants, and an undeniable mess to clear, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been and it wouldn’t take long to fix up. When Ash was done in the garden, he moved down the path toward the far bungalow. Heather’s bungalow.

From the outside, it looked like it, too, had weathered the storm. There might have been some water that leaked through, but he couldn’t tell from the outside and he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy. He walked around the deck, untangled one of the hammocks from its support pole and straightened the swing that hung over the water’s edge. Using his bare feet, he swept the debris into the murky water below.

The seas had been churned up by the storm, but he knew from experience they’d settle out in a day or two and be back to their usual crystal-clear, bright blue.

He spent the next few minutes checking out the rest of the guest bungalows and opening the shutters to let the rooms air out, and when he was finished, he made his way back through the garden, stopping at the clothesline to pull his now dry shorts off. He tugged them on and gathered Heather’s clothes before going back inside grande casa. He expected to find her still sleeping, but she was up and in the kitchen. With no clothes to wear, she’d tied a thin batik blanket around her body, sarong style. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she looked absolutely ravishing standing in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand and a pan in the other.

“Good morning.”

“It is now.” He knew he sounded cheesy and cliché, but didn’t care one little bit. “You look…fantastic.”

She laughed and the hand with the spatula in it went to her head, leaving a drop of batter in her hair. “I don’t know about that. I woke up and found you’d stolen my clothes. But I was starving and couldn’t wait.”

Ash held her now dry shorts and tank top out. “I’m not sure I want to give them back. I like this look on you. It’s very bohemian. And sexy as hell.”

Her smile was wicked. Ash almost ripped the thin sheet off her right then and there, and he would have, too, if whatever it was she was cooking hadn’t smelled so good. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since before leaving for Bocas Town the day before. “What’s for breakfast?”

Her smile was immediate and radiant. “I’ve been dying to get in here and make something. But I’m starting slow. Banana pancakes.”

“That sounds delicious.” He crossed the room and kissed her. “Almost as delicious as you.” It was cheesy but it made her blush, and that’s all he was trying to achieve. He traced a finger down her neck and over the curve of her naked shoulder, smiling when she shivered in response. He kissed the sensitive spot on the nape of her neck before he retreated to let her continue cooking. He would absolutely love to have her for breakfast, but he wasn’t so sure that it would do much to quench either of his appetites.

Ash gave himself distance by hopping up on the far counter to watch Heather work.

“Where did you run off to this morning?”

“You looked so peaceful, I thought I’d let you sleep and see if there was any damage from the storm. Besides, I don’t sleep much.”

She shot him a curious look over her shoulder. “And was there? Any damage, I mean?”

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