The little coastal city of Carmel is a well-kept secret among the crowded beaches and fast life our home state is known for. Our rental is located on a half-mile expanse of private beach. The house itself sits on a rocky peninsula and is surrounded by water on three sides. Floor to ceiling windows throughout provide panoramic views of our little slice of paradise. This weekend trip is meant to be a prelude to the real deal, which’ll have to wait until things are more settled with Mr. Wayne and I’ve finished recording, but aside from only having two days, it doesn’t much feel like we’re settling.

“It’s not bad.” I tip her face up and press a tender kiss to her lips. “But you should see my view.”

“When did you become such a romantic?” She turns into me lacing her arms around my neck.

“Don’t get used to it.” I peck at her nose, splaying a hand over her bare back. “Don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“What the lady wants, the lady—”

Before I can finish my sentence, she’s risen to her toes and is molding her eager lips to mine. I could stay right here for hours and never grow tired.

Kissing her is an endless fall, that stomach-in-your-throat sensation that breeds adrenaline junkies. I’m flying, soaring, tumbling without a care in the world, because the only thing I’ve ever needed is right here in my arms.

I cup the nape of her neck, angling her head for better access, kissing her softly, slowly, savoring the high.

I want to bottle this moment. The taste of her lips. The smell of the ocean. The warmth of the setting sun.

“Come home with me,” I beg against her lips. It’s a conversation I meant to save for the morning. I want to kick myself as soon as the words slip out because the timing couldn’t be worse. I just pray I haven’t gone and killed the mood.

She pulls away, swiping the back of a hand over her kiss swollen lips. “To Nashville?”

I nod, staring into her storm-filled eyes.

“But my dad…” Her face falls. She doesn’t want to disappoint me and is clearly apprehensive about leaving him. The last thing I want is to make any of this harder on her.

“I know,” I say, pulling her face to my chest. “I just thought…it’s fine. We can wait.”

“Hey,” she says, reaching up to cup my cheek. “What if we start with the weekends? Just until we see how things progress with my dad?” She sucks her teeth, recoiling as if she’s just remembered something. “After next weekend, that is…Dad has to be admitted for his treatment and I—I want to be there.”