Page 9 of Hook, Line and Mystery

As they stood on Lovers’ Edge, surrounded by floating lights and ancient legends, Abby felt a connection with Kit that she had never experienced before with another man. Turning towards her, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head, hesitating as he gauged her reaction. Instead of offering him any resistance, she melted into him as his lips captured hers.

She moaned into the kiss, savoring the taste of him as their tongues coiled together. Heat coursed through her body and passion flared within her soul. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she burrowed into him, losing herself in the moment completely. Their kiss deepened as they swayed together under the starlit sky. Their hearts pounded in unison like the waves crashing against the rocky shore.

Abby’s fingers tangled in Kit’s hair, pulling him closer. His hands moved up and down her back, sending quivers along her spine. One arm wrapped around her while the hand of the other cupped her ass to hold her tight. Their bodies pressed against each other, every curve and plane fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. As if they had been waiting for this moment for years, his lips trailed down her jawline and neck, causing her breath to hitch.

Pulling apart slowly, her eyes locked with his—the tension building between them like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Take me home, Kit,” Abby whispered, her voice shaky. She wanted nothing more than to be with this man and explore all that she was feeling.

He nodded as he took her hand and started the trek down the cliff and toward what she hoped was his home and not just some secluded spot on the beach. She’d had sex beside the ocean once—it wasn’t nearly what it was cracked up to be in the movies.From Here to Eternityhad gotten it so wrong.

The wind whipped around them, carrying whiffs of saltwater and seaweed up to their nostrils. They walked, their footsteps echoing against the rocks. Abby’s heart pounded in anticipation, her mind filled with visions of soft sheets and warm skin. Her body ached for him, craving his touch.

Kit led her toward a charming cottage nestled in a small enclave with four other cottages of similar age and architecture. Abby was lost in a kind of haze—lust and longing, tempered by the knowledge that this might be the start of something or merely a lovely ending to her day. She was acutely aware of Kit’s strong body pressed against hers.

It felt so right to be walking with him, acting this impulsively—some might even say recklessly. She barely knew the man and as much as she didn’t want to get sand in places sand had no business being, she would have followed him onto the beach in order to make love to him. But was it making love? It didn’t matter. She really wanted to have sex with Kit—and apparently, she wasn’t too choosy about where she did it. The walk seemed endless, and she could sense the tension and need in him as it rolled off his body in waves.

The sea air blew through Abby’s hair, cooling her flushed cheeks as she walked with Kit—one hand wrapped in his as her other hand rested in the crook of his elbow.

When they arrived at Kit’s cottage, he said, “The cottages were built by a family of lobstermen. As their fortunes grew, they built bigger houses or left Badger’s Drift. They sold the cottages to some of their employees. Those employees passed them down to their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and down the line. I’m the first descendant to own one of the cottages that wasn’t a lobsterman.”

“Was that an issue?”

“I think there might have been some discussion, but the mitigating factors were probably that my dad was well-liked and respected, and I am a marine biologist.”

“What if there were no sons?”

“Ah, that’s come up more than once, each time the daughter married a lobsterman. When my folks died, I was at college, and they left it to me.”

“Did they die together? Oops. Did I mention I also ask a lot of questions?”

“You’re fine, and they did. As hard as it was for me to lose them both at the same time, I always thought that was better for them. They loved each other so much; I’m not sure either would have done well without the other. I found a lot of solace in coming back on my breaks from school and renovating the place.”

“I can see that,” she said.

“There’s always been an informal agreement that the exteriors would stay in keeping with the original cottages. It’s funny that so much care was taken to keep them feeling private even when they’re placed so close to each other. Even in broad daylight, you don’t need blinds or curtains to make you feel like you have privacy. Several years ago, we formed an informal HOA and hired a caretaker to look after the yards, roofs, et cetera. That way, there is a sameness amongst the houses—we like to call it the compound—yet each have their own unique character.”

“I can’t see as much as I’d like, but what I can see is lovely.”

Even though it was dark, the porch light showed the house was painted moss green with white trim—rather like the ocean’s waves and their whitecaps. Kit opened the doors and flipped on a light. Abby was a bit surprised in that it reminded her very much of her own loft—open and inviting with spaces being designated by furniture and function rather than any kind of walls.

It was cozy and welcoming, with hardwood floors and vintage maps adorning the walls. There was an undeniable nonchalant elegance to the place that spoke volumes of its owner’s love for the sea. Abby followed Kit inside, taking in every detail—the creak of floorboards under their feet, the stone fireplace, and the comfy couch facing what quickly became a crackling fire. She wandered around his home and found herself wanting to spend more time here than at the bed and breakfast—more than that, she wanted him.

* * *

KIT

Kit watched Abby take in every detail of his home, the icicles around his frosted heart beginning to thaw. He left her to explore and went to the fridge, grabbing a couple of local IPAs and holding them up to show her. She nodded and he opened the bottles, handing her one, then stepping back, leaning against the fireplace, and watching her explore.

He liked the way she laughed at one ancient map that declared the place beyond the known world should be avoided as ‘beyond here lie dragons and other monsters.’ As he watched her, he could tell she was tactile. She didn’t just explore with her eyes, but with her sense of touch as well. The way she trailed her fingers over the smooth wood of his antique desk made him feel all mushy inside—it was not a feeling he was accustomed to, but he kind of liked it.

Kit held his hand out to her and led her to the couch. She curled up against him. It was the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around her as he leaned over to steal a taste of her. Her lips tasted of a mystery mixed with salt and sweetness, and he lost himself in the kiss.

His mouth explored hers before whispering kisses all over her face—her eyes, her cheeks, her nose—before returning to her lips, brushing against them before deepening the kiss. Her hands came up to frame his face as she pressed herself against him. The spark he had felt before burst into a flame and the flame became a wildfire as it coursed through his system, burning away all the barriers he’d so carefully erected after Clara’s death.

The thought of Clara gave him a moment’s pause and he started to retreat. Instead of moving away from him, Abby grabbed the front of his sweater and dragged him back, refusing to let him go—a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. The fire was back in full force and Kit regained the ground he might have lost if not for her bravery. He’d have to remember to thank her for that someday.

A future with Abby? He’d just met the girl, and yet he could see it flash through his mind’s eye, and for the first time since Clara’s death, he longed for that future—a different future than he’d once planned, but a future where he wasn’t alone and where there was someone standing at his side to weather all the storms and squalls life might throw at them.

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