Page 36 of Hunters and Hydrangeas

“You want to wait, remember?”

“I mean, Idid. But now…”

He grins. “It’s supposed to be difficult. Challenges are.”

“It’s never been difficult before.”

Noah steps forward, his eyes washed gray in the moonlight, and skims his hand over my side. Lowering his voice, he says, “That’s because you didn’t know me before.”

“Cocky,” I murmur, closing my eyes when he brushes my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck to the humid air.

Then he leans down, pressing his lips over my pulse point, tasting my skin, making my fangs ache. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“The beach will be there tomorrow,” I breathe.

Noah pulls back, meeting my eyes again. “So will I. And the day after that, and the day after that.” He sets his hand on my arm, rubbing gently. Goosebumps rise on my skin despite the heat. “For as long as you want me.”

“I’m always going to want you.”

He studies me, looking like he wants to say something. Then he smiles like he’s changed his mind. “We’re wasting the night. Let’s go.”

Nodding, I follow him off the balcony and into the room, ignoring the bed in all its solitary glory.

For now.

Fun fact:Miami Beach closes at 10:00 PM.

“I didn’t know beaches ever closed,” I say to Noah, noting that there are a few people out despite the hour restrictions. “I’m not sure anyone will care if we walk since we’re not getting in the water. What do you think?”

Noah hesitates, his eyes scanning the posted sign yet again. He’s a rule follower through and through—and to be honest, it’s okay because I am as well.

I yawn, now feeling like I might be able to sleep. The long day of travel prep, purchasing property, and flying have finally caught up with me.

“Let’s head back to the room,” Noah says. “We’ll go to the beach just after sunset tomorrow.”

“Unless you’re chasing a rogue hotel mogul.”

He chuckles. “Unless that.”

We walk back through the hotel patio that leads to the beach, past several closed pools, a few private cabanas, and a tiki bar that’s still serving hotel guests.

Maybe I’ve had time to acclimate to the idea of sharing a room, or perhaps I’m too tired to think about anything but a soft pillow. But whatever it is, when we arrive, my heart isn’t racing like it was earlier.

Way to be an adult,Piper.

So what if we have to share a bed? That doesn’t mean we have to leap into anything physical. Of course not. But just that thought makes my stomach tie itself into a knot.

New plan: Stop thinking about it all together. Put it completely out of mind.

We step inside, and…oh, look. There’s the bed. It’s still here.

That’s good.

“Which side do you want?” I ask.

Noah closes the balcony curtains. “Whichever,” he answers, which isn’t much of an answer at all.

“Okay.” I sit on the side closest to the wall and angle around to look at the nightstand. The digital clock says it’s after three.

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