Page 27 of Heartbeats and Hashtags
I try to focus on the random romance novel I picked up in the airport, but it’s useless.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently.
He nods tightly. I feel the urge to reach out and comfort him, but I’m not sure if that is an intrusion on his personal space and crossing a line. He looks terrified though.Fuck it.I take a daring step forward and let my palm rest gently on top of his.
He doesn’t pull away. Encouraged, I tentatively began to rub slow circles on the back of his hand with my thumb. His breathing evens out, and I swear I feel just the slightest bit of movement as his thumb creeps across and presses lightly against mine. We stay like that as the plane ascends into the sky until a voice interrupts us. We both jump and return our hands to our respective laps.
Cole looks out the window, and I sip my water, pulse quickening with the realization — Cole and I are going to be alone together in a hotel suite for two whole nights. Something about sharing temporary quarters away from home feels oddlyintense.
True, we have adapted to cohabiting back in Miami, except on Sundays when crotchety Benny takes over, allowing Cole a break from my chaos. Yes, maybe I missed waking up to Cole's 6 am workout grunts those mornings, not that I'd ever admit that. We'd settled into a comfortable rhythm of mostly staying out of each other's way at a comfortable distance outside training sessions.
But this trip meansconstantclose proximity with nowhere to hide if tensions run high. Since the heated self-defense lesson, we've kept things strictly professional. Well, mostly professional, if I discount lingering glances when we pass en route to shower. Or the way bored monitoring of my video editing has him inching progressively nearer on the couch, his thigh just barely grazing mine...
Blood rushes around my body at the thought. Still, the idea of being utterly alone with Cole in an intimate suite stirs flutters in my stomach.
This weekend is for business. Stop getting starry-eyed over your stoic, sexy bodyguard.
I spend the remainder of the flight planning content and ticking off work tasks. Before I know it, we are descending, and I’m feeling good. The earlier tension between Cole and I has eased. I notice he spent the flight reading. I try to look over a few times to see what he is reading, but he notices and angles his book away. I huff back into my seat. So much for the olive branch.
Before I know it, the pilot is announcing the time in the Bahamas and informing us that the weather is beautiful today. I peer over at Cole and notice him watching me. His Adam’s apple bobs, and there is a dark shadow behind his eyes. My heart quickens involuntarily.
Something has changed between us on this flight. It makes this trip even more exciting forallthe wrong reasons.
COLE
“Let's go, slowpoke!” Everly teases over her shoulder as her auburn ponytail swings, feet kicking up sand.
I easily match pace beside her despite the head start, our footfalls settling into sync. While I usually prefer solitary training runs, Everly's insistence on joining this morning didn't grate as expected. Her cheerful chatter fills spaces that might normally invite darker memories rising unbidden.
And I can't deny that this woman's fitness impresses me. She clocks sub-eight-minute miles near effortlessly, breathing deep and even. No wonder she has such a strong body,objectively speaking. I catch glimpses of toned legs and backside as we run along the beach.
I focus on the sand, not Everly, though I cant deny that training with a companion who has the ability to push my limits is beneficial. It brings out a competitive side to me.
As we round the palm-lined point completing three miles, Everly gestures enthusiastically. “How stunning is that water? Makes all those brutal intervals worth it, yeah?”
I murmur agreement, gazing out at the postcard cove. Suddenly missing my SEAL team pounding the ground in full battle gear, faces set with purpose. Missing the post-run banter and silly horseplay and rituals that strengthened the bonds between us. We were like a family.
Without warning, Lew's stupid, grinning face flashes in my memory. My next exhalation is shaky, and I place my hands on my knees.
Everly glances over, peeling her gaze from the ocean.
“Everything OK? We can walk a bit if you need.” I nod.
She hesitates before continuing. Brushing sand off her purple “Love Running” t-shirt that I’ve seen her in several times.
“Look, I don’t mean to pry, but it looked like you drifted somewhere painful back there...”
I debate deflecting but sense genuine care, not pity. With another heavy sigh, I nod down the coastline.
“I was recalling training exercises on a beach like this actually. My SEAL team owned the sand most morning.” A wry huff. “Less serene exertions though fueled by yelling rather than scenery appreciation.” I give her a side smirk.
She rolls her eyes, but they’re alight with a curiosity.
“What was it like?” she asks.
I continue cautiously, “We were a band of brothers.” The sand crunches beneath my feet. “We were pushing limits, and we trusted each other deeply. Losing that connection left a void.” I clear my throat, tamping down emotions threatening to surface.
Everly bumps my shoulder affectionately as we walk. “Well, this band of two kicked ass today too. And not to give more ‘scenery appreciation,’” she mocks with air quotes, “but the view is pretty darn good, eh?”
