What did she say last night?

Something about potpies.

She also remembered trying to seduce him and failing. Womp.

Some shouting on the ride home.

No sex.

She’d just have to gauge his mood to find out if she’d said or done anything irredeemably embarrassing. There was a good chance she had, because otherwise he would still be in bed, right? Like, hello. Horny lady. Right here.

Piper’s bladder screamed at her, and she sat up, grateful the Bellinger Method had worked, and padded to the bathroom. She ignored the gooey, melting sensation in her belly when she found her toothbrush from the morning before waiting beside Brendan’s in the medicine cabinet. Where else was he supposed to put it?

With the toothbrush in her mouth, she picked up an unused bottle of cologne and sniffed. But it wasn’t him at all, and she couldn’t imagine him using it. Other than that, there was only his razor, some shaving cream, and deodorant. Her medicine cabinet at home would probably make him break out in a rash, it was so jam-packed.

She finished brushing her teeth, splashed some water on her face, finger-combed her hair, and headed downstairs . . . and . . . and jackpot.

Brendan was standing in the kitchen in nothing but black boxer briefs.

Piper crowded against the wall so she could observe him without being discovered. He was hunched over the kitchen counter reading a newspaper, and good gravy, the thick, masculine ropes of back muscles were all she wanted for breakfast. How dare he with those thighs? Did he use them to anchor the boat? They were generous and ripped and—

“You want coffee?” he asked without looking up.

“Aherm?” Piper blurted loudly, coming the rest of the way down the stairs, very aware that he was in underwear while she wore nothing but his T-shirt and a thong. And then he pushed up from the counter and scratched his happy trail, and yes, she was very aware of that, too. “Um, yes? Coffee, sure. Sure.”

He half grinned. “Okay.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “What is this extra cockiness you have going on?”

Brendan poured her a cup of coffee, preparing it exactly how she liked it. “You might have told me last night in the bar that I was the best, best, best sex of your life.”

Heat climbed her cheeks. “I said ‘best’ three times, hmm?”

After handing her the coffee, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his ankles. “You sure did.”

She hid her wan smile in a sip of coffee. “I think I might have also become a professional beauty consultant last night. One who gets paid in drinks.” More and more memories knitted together. “And, oh God, I volunteered to throw a party on Labor Day at the bar.”

“Whoops.”

“I can’t wait to tell Hannah.” She cupped her hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth. Not just from the drink itself, but from Brendan’s kitchen. The way he looked at her with affection, not a rush in the world to move or hurry. When had she started liking those things? The silence between them didn’t need to be filled, but she was thinking too much, so she did it anyway. “Who would buy you cologne?”

His brow arched. “You mean the one in my cabinet? Birthday gift from Sanders. His wife picked it out. Obviously. He didn’t even know what it was until I opened it—and the guys, they ragged on him for months. I probably just keep it because it makes me laugh.”

“You’re so close with them. Your crew.”

“Have to be. Our lives—” He cut himself off, taking an abrupt sip of coffee.

“Are in one another’s hands?” When she said it, the memory of her crying in his bed last night came rolling back in on a tide. This was probably it, then. No more smoke screens or hiding or flirting her way to safety with this man. Even if she couldn’t recall every single second of last night, she could feel that the layers had been stripped away. By his hands. His words. His presence.

“Anyway, it’s not the scent I would pick for you.”

Interest lit his expression. “What would you pick?”

“Nothing. You already have the ocean on your skin. And it’s not like you to embellish what’s already working.” Something heated in his eyes at her words. At the proof she’d been cataloguing his finer details? “But if I had to pick a scent . . . something, like, rainy and mossy. To remind me of your garden. How earthy you are. How substantial.” Her attention meandered down the line of black hair disappearing into his briefs. “How male.”

His chest rose and fell on a shudder. “You’re really messing up my plans for the morning, Piper.”

“What were your plans?”

“To take you out on the Della Ray.”

The smile blasted across her face. “What? Are you serious?”

“Uh-huh. Being out on the water is good for talking.”

“Oh, right.” She rocked back on her heels, her initial excitement tempered by the reminder that the reckoning had arrived. “Talking points.”

“That’s right.” He raked her with a blistering look that turned her nipples to tingling peaks. “Now I just want to take you back to bed, though.”

Her breathing went shallow. “Can’t we do both?”

His regret was obvious when he shook his head. “Next time I fuck you, I want to be sure you’re not going to pull away from me afterward.”

“And I can’t escape on a boat?”

“That might have crossed my mind.”

She huffed a laugh. He was really serious about her. And she’d gone home with him last night knowing it. As natural as could be, like she did it all the time. That’s how it felt being collected by Brendan and sleeping in his arms. Expected. Inevitable.

Damn him.

There was a chance she might be serious about Brendan, too.

How had this happened?

“Just so we’re clear,” she said, setting down her coffee mug. “You are withholding sex.”

“No, I’m not.” His jaw flexed. “I’ll fuck you facedown over that counter, Piper. If sex is all you want, I’ll give it to you. But I want more.” His voice brooked no nonsense. “You do, too, or you wouldn’t have come here in the middle of a storm and slept in my bed. Don’t ever do that again, by the way. I need to know you’ll be safe when I’m not here.”

“I’m a strong runner!”

He gave a dubious grunt.

“Fine,” she said, voice irregular. “We’ll talk!”

“Good. Whenever you’re ready.”

Lost in a sea of emotional vulnerability, she utilized her best physical weapon, stripping off his shirt and tossing it to him. Then she marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs in nothing but her thong, knowing full well he’d watch her the whole way. If he was going to demand she let him in completely, shed all of her defenses, she’d make sure it was a long day for them both.

* * *

As the Della Ray backed out of its slip into the mouth of the harbor, it became obvious to Piper that the boat was an extension of Brendan himself. And the time he spent on land was just filler. He sat in the captain’s chair with easy command, confident in every movement, the wheel sliding through his ready hands, his eyes vigilant. Framed in the hazy sunlight, he could have been from past or present. A man and the ocean. Timeless.