Page 40 of Restoration

When we finish, we reorganize our sleeping shelter with the sheets and blankets we found in the boat. They’re fully dry now, but the mattress is still a little damp. We’ll have to wait another day until we can sleep on it.

After lunch, we take a leisurely swim, and as we’re walking back up the beach afterward, I step on a seashell that’s sharp enough to startle and hurt me. I gasp and raise one foot automatically, reaching to hold on to Edmund’s arm for support so I don’t lose my balance.

He turns me toward him, holding me by the upper arms in the same way he’s done before. He stares down at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I smile and shake my head. “Stepped on a damn seashell.”

“Is it bleeding?”

We both inspect my raised foot. It’s a very shallow cut and just a little bit of blood.

“It’ll be fine,” I say.

Without responding and without any warning, he adjusts his position so he can swing me up into his arms.

I’m not a small woman. I’m average height and hardly a waif. And while Edmund has always been in excellent shape, I never would have imagined him being able to pick me up.

But he does. He’s grinning at my startled exclamations as he carries me all the way to our shelter.

He is slightly out of breath when he gets there, and I’m giggling helplessly. But the amusement is masking the stronger emotion—an intense fluttering of excitement that simply won’t be stomped out.

He sets me down next to our patio. I immediately raise my injured foot.

His hands are still on my waist. He moves them up to my shoulders. Then higher. Until he’s holding my neck loosely the way he did out in the ocean yesterday.

His expression has changed again, and there’s no mistaking it this time. It’s warm and soft. And hungry.

So incredibly hungry.

“Autumn,” he murmurs thickly.

I raise my hands to hold on to his shoulders. “Yes.”

It’s not entirely clear whether the one word is a question or an eager expression of assent.

This has happened before. These hot moments. And each time Edmund has pulled away.

But something has changed now. He’s no longer waiting for rescue.

We are here—together—cut off from our old lives and everything we used to be. And we might stay this way indefinitely.

He says yes in the same way I did, and then he lowers his face as I’m stretching mine up toward him.

Then he’s kissing me.

And I’m kissing him back.