He held out a hand to help me up. I still wore my cover-up dress. Normally, I didn’t love taking it off in front of others. A lifetime of comments made me self-conscious enough, on top of my multiple scars.

“Are you coming?” Stone asked, staring back at me.

I pulled off the dress quickly and crossed my arms, feeling his eyes rake over me. It wasn’t the first time he had seen me shirtless, but I felt more exposed now.

His eyes lingered on the scar on my lower abdomen. A devilish grin grew across his face, and I frowned, confused. My entire family broke out in laughter as Stone scooped me into his arms and ran off to the ocean.

The water was cold but refreshing as it splashed against us.  Stone made his way past where the waves crashed, the tide calm and the waves docile enough to swim without fear of being knocked down. He carried us to where we could both stand.

“Are you going to put me down?” I asked.

His forehead pressed against mine, our noses barely brushing. “Do I have to?”

Again, my cheeks warmed, all too aware of my family on the beach watching us.

Stone sensed my hesitation and glanced to the sand where they sat.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Your father and brother are tossing a football back-and-forth, and your mother has Eloise locked in conversation.”

I risked my own glance and saw he was right. None of them were paying us any attention.

“Then I suppose not,” I said and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

He carried me for a few more minutes, walking through the water. After a little, I got antsy to swim around on my own. I threw myself out of his arms and found myself on my tiptoes to keep my head above water.

I let myself bounce, the small waves brushing by us. It was lulling, the way they carried us for a moment, my feet leaving the sandy floor of the ocean.

Stone closed the space between us and stood chest to chest with me. A chill ran down my spine, his hands finding me under the water. They held my waist and kept me close, pinned against his body.

The urge to kiss him and never stop washed over me, but I knew we had too many watchful eyes. Instead, I felt his finger against the scar on my abdomen. He traced the line and lowered his head to mine.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” He caught the Coastal Killer like he promised and returned my sense of safety. On top of that, he helped me get justice for all the victims.

“For not getting here sooner,” he said. “I wish I could have stopped this.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “And besides, it only made me stronger.” The words he said to me only days before echoed back at him.