She dragged her finger against his lips to stop him from saying more, then, leaning even closer, she kissed him, her lips parting with more than invitation. Demand was what it was. Surprise ceded to need, and he surrendered to her, tugging her closer up against him, until the soft curve of her breasts fit against his chest like a puzzle piece, like they’d been designed to fit together. With her arms around his neck, he lowered her beneath him until they were lying on the sun-warmed wooden dock, his fingers buried in her hair. The ache of mortal need came back to him, crashing over him like a wave.
This woman. So familiar yet so completely not Violet. She belonged—unapologetically—to herself, and he loved that about her. Gone was the anger of that first kiss between them, what once was, rushing away from him with the dizzying speed of the bullet that had taken him down, but in its place, this woman had managed to burrow herself inside him. Now he’d never move past her. Never truly let go of what he felt for her.
With a sound of loss, he broke the kiss and stared down at her, memorizing her face. Her eyes. The forgiveness he found there. The confusion. He pulled her against him. She settled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. It had been a very long time since he’d envied mortals. Since he’d longed for the ups and downs of human consternation and joy, the taste of desire, the burn of need under his skin. Holding her, kissing her reminded him of all that and more. He’d moved into dangerous territory here. This wasn’t his purpose in coming. This wasn’t about him at all. And he’d broken the one hard-and-fast rule of celestials.
As Elspeth had done before him.
But he was not Elspeth. He would not fall. He had already been appointed to the Council. He had reached his long-sought-after goal. Even if Emma died, there would be none of this there. None of this coming together in mortal pleasure. No children. Just Celestial boundaries. If they saw him now, no doubt it would go against him in his review. It might even disqualify him. But astonishingly, he found he didn’t care. Holding her this way felt worth all that after all those centuries of pain.
Let them keep the Council from him. It didn’t seem as important now as it once had. He wanted to drag his feet, slow down Emma’s path. Whatever it was. But suddenly, he hoped it was not to go with him. She deserved a full life, a mortal man who could share with her all those things she longed for. A home. Family. The chance to grow old together.
Somewhere down the lake, the boom of an early firework exploded over the water, breaking the moment as a cheer and teenaged laughter erupted from the boys whose boat was passing Sam’s on the water. Molly waved a miniature flag at them as they gunned their boat across the lake.
“It goes by so fast,” Emma murmured, watching the children. “So terribly fast.”
He knew she wasn’t talking about the boat. “Aye, lass.”
“We should get back to the hospital,” she said but made no move to untangle herself from him. She tightened her fingers around his, glancing down at the dial on his wrist. Connor looked, too. It read+85 percent. She pulled in a long, shaky breath.
“Not yet. Just a little longer,” he told her as his palm skimmed her soft hair. “Hey, do ye think they’d mind if we hitched a ride on their boat? Just for a wee bit?”
She sat up with a shocked smile. “You mean—?”
He nodded. “I dinna think Elspeth would rat us out. And they willna know.”
Emma tugged him up to his feet with an impish look. An instant later, they were settling themselves on the stern of Sam Wynter’s beautiful hand-built sailboat as it cut across the surface of the lake, with the wind in their hair and the July sun caressing their skin.
The fragrance of the clear water, the sky, sharply blue against the green trees—it all reminded him of things he’d forgotten in the shadow of his bitterness, the simple pleasures of the mortal world. Emma soaked up every sunny moment as if it might be her last.
Sam and Molly stood at the wheel a few feet away, not aware of them at all. Sam had his hands atop Molly’s as she steered the boat across the open water.
“That’s it,” he told her. “Now watch the wind, then steer into it. Like this. You want to angle into the waves, not alongside them.”
“Can I teach Anika how to sail?” she asked. “When I learn how?”
“You bet. She’s a little too small yet. But that’s what big sisters are for. By next summer, she and Elspeth will be coming out here every day with us.”
“And Iris and Grandpa?” Molly turned directly toward Emma and Connor, then seemed to look right at them. “Mommy would have liked this boat, too, don’t you think?” she said.
Taken aback, Emma flicked a look at Connor, who seemed to take Molly’s look in stride. “Dinna worry. She canna see us.”
“I know your mom would’ve,” Sam told Molly. “And she’d be so proud of her girl.”
“Me?”
He tickled her ribs, making her squeal with laughter. “Of course, you! You’re her girl, forever and always.”
“Maybe she’s watching us right now,” Molly said. “Maybe she’s up there right now, looking at us sailing.” Over their heads, a seabird sailed on the air currents, occasionally flapping its wings, mid-glide. Emma’s gaze followed it across the lake, remembering what Connor had told her about the child’s mother.
“Don’t you ever doubt it, Molly-girl,” Sam said. “Hey, c’mere. Let me put some more sunscreen on that nose of yours!”
Molly squirmed but finally relented.
Emma watched them for a long time before she leaned against Connor’s shoulder. “I’m finding it very ironic to be sitting on this sailboat knowing it’s the first time I’ve done something like this in years. Vacations, for me, were not vacations at all but staff perks. Every ‘vacation’ I take the company on is spent working, organizing, and worrying that everything will work perfectly. There’s very little of…this. Of noticing the way the sun plays across the water or me breathing deeply or even just enjoying watching a child with her father.”
Connor, too, appeared to be taken with the pair steering the boat. He smiled a little wistfully. “You’re right there, lass.”
“And what about you?” she asked. “When was the last time you just purely enjoyed what you were doing? Aside from this?”
