Page 28 of Seaside Strangers
The moment they reached the bed, everything shifted.
He felt it instantly—the subtle change in her, the tension that hadn’t been there seconds before.
He pulled back, searching her face. “Is something wrong?”
Her gaze dropped, her fingers tightening slightly against him. “No… yes… I mean… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Concern replaced everythingelse in an instant. He tipped her chin up gently, meeting her eyes. “Talk to me.”
She hesitated, then drew in a breath. “It’s just… I’m not really good at this.”
He frowned, confusion cutting through the moment. “What are you talking about? From what I’ve seen so far, you’re doing fine.”
“Not that.” Her voice dropped, softer now, edged with embarrassment. “I mean… the rest of it.”
It took a second for her words to make sense. When they did, his expression hardened—not at her, but at whoever had put that doubt in her head.
“Who told you that?” he asked, his tone low and controlled.
She gave a small, uncertain shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I just… I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Something in his chest tightened hard at that.
He took her hand, holding it between both of his, anchoring her before she could pull away. “Listen to me. There’s nothing about you that could disappoint me. Not one thing.”
Her eyes lifted slowly, searching his.
He held her gaze, making sure she saw the truth in his. “We take this at your pace, whatever that looks like. No pressure. No expectations. Just us.”
The tension in her shoulders eased—only a fraction, but enough.
“Okay,” she whispered.
KC brushed his thumb along her cheek again, softer this time. Then he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to her lips—gentle, unhurried, letting her set the rhythm.
When she leaned into him, he followed.
And this time, he didn’t rush.
Chapter Thirteen
Moriah woke slowly,her body warm, heavy in a way that felt unfamiliar but not unwelcome. For a moment, she didn’t move, letting herself drift in that quiet space between sleep and awareness, where everything felt softer, less complicated, and nothing had a name yet.
Sound reached her first. The steady rhythm of the ocean through the cracked-open window. Waves rolling in, then pulling back again in a constant, measured cadence. It should have felt distant, but in the beach house, the sound wrapped around everything. Closer… KC’s breathing was slow and even.
That’s when awareness settled in.
She was curled against him, one of his arms draped loosely around her, his hand resting at herwaist. Heat surrounded her—solid, real, and inescapable. She hadn’t slept like this in… she couldn’t remember how long. Not without tension coiled somewhere beneath the surface. Not without waiting for something to shift, to go wrong.
Her eyes opened.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room, softening edges and shadows alike. She turned her head slightly, studying him. His face was relaxed in sleep, the usual tension gone. No guarded edges. No watchful intensity. Just… him.
A quiet weight settled inside her, small but impossible to ignore.
Careful not to wake him, she shifted just enough to free her hand. Even that small movement felt fragile, as if the moment might break if she moved too quickly. She hesitated, her fingers hovering in the space between them.
Then she touched him.
