Page 72 of Seas the Dating Coach

“You don’t mind period dramas?”

I brace my elbows on my knees, leaning forward. “I’m honestly interested in seeing the director’s interpretation, particularly of book two.”

“Ilovebook two,” she says with an airy sigh. “I can’t wait for that season to drop.”

We sit in companionable silence for a few moments before Vivian asks, “And your thoughts on holding hands as we take a quiet evening stroll down the beach?”

A grin lifts my lips as I turn my head. “What’s with the questions?”

“Just making sure you’re as perfect as you seem,” she says to the bay.

“I’m not.” My tone is suddenly harder than steel.

Vivian glances at me, her features soft, the corner of her mouth tugging upward. “See, that’s the best part. You don’t get to decide if you’re perfect for me. I do.”

I find myself opening and closing my mouth, words trapped in my throat, like Vivian used to do. She squeezes my forearm, leaning her head against my shoulder. We watch an osprey dive into the water, snag a fish, and fly into the marshy distance.

After a beat, she asks, “What did She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named do to break your heart?”

The idea of concealing the answer doesn’t even register. Whatever Vivian asks, I’ll answer.

“She never even liked me. The sole reason she wanted to marry me was for my father’s money.”

I expect Vivian to express sorrow on my behalf, maybe wrap me in a hug, especially since I alluded to an engagement. Instead, she hums.

“And ever since, you’ve made yourself hard to know so something like that could never happen again.”

I almost chuckle. What did Carol say about Vivian being a good observer?

“Something like that,” I murmur.

Vivian lets out a satiated breath, snuggling against me. “Good thing I like you for other reasons—none of them having anything to do with money.”

“Is that so, gorgeous?”

She tilts her chin up with such a joyful grin my heart gives a heavy thud. “Yes. I mostly like you because you smell like books.”

This time, I do laugh, leaning down to give her smiling lips the lightest brush. We gaze at each other for a long moment, the sea air stirring the tiny hairs around Vivian’s face. The adoration in her gaze never wavers, and I find myself momentarily lost.

I love this woman.

I’d thought that I’d loved Katelyn, but that emotion was a joke compared to how I feel about Vivian. I want to simultaneously vanquish all her enemies and relax next to her, watching the stars wink into existence as the sky turns dark. Never in the years after leaving my family had I entertained the idea offoreverwith anyone.

But I want that now.

I want everything she asked me about earlier, a thousand times over, but I also wantmore. I want a beach wedding with everyone in this town in attendance. I want to show her my long-hidden book collection and create a personal library with her, blending our books like we’ll blend our lives. And eventually, I want tiny little versions of Vivian with curly chestnut hair and sprays of freckles across their cheeks.

And I want her to have a husband who can partake in one of her favorite hobbies.

I drop my lips to hers again for a long but chaste kiss. When I raise my face, Vivian senses the change in me. She gives myforearm another squeeze before using me as a lever to rise then extending her hand.

“Ready to try this?”

“No,” I answer, gripping her fingers and standing. “But for you, I will.”

The threat to my male pride is making it a challenge not to do something reckless like grab Vivian’s twitchy fingers and run them over my abs. Was it a bit cocky to slowly peel my shirt off before I lowered myself into the twelve inches of water in the tub? Sure, but I haven’t had standing water touch my ribs in decades. I needed some advantage. Vivian’s slight puff of breath at seeing me shirtless for the first time was the ego boost I needed to sit down.

“How are you doing?”

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