“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice trembled on the last word in a way that broke my fucking heart.

“No. God, no. You’re perfect. That was perfect. Kissing you is…” I shook my head as we drove out of the park.

“Perfect?” she guessed, but her smile was shaky.

“More than. But I didn’t plan on that happening.” My left hand gripped the wheel as my right reached for hers.

“Right,” she replied with a touch of ice, retracting her hand and placing it in her lap.

The move was a direct gut-punch, and I more than deserved it. “What do you mean, right?”

She shrugged, staring out the windshield. “I mean I’m sure you didn’t plan on me basically jumping on you and kissing you like that. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I snapped in surprise, my gaze jerking toward hers as much as possible while still keeping my eyes on the road. “Why the hell would you be sorry?”

“Because it’s obviously not something you wanted!” she exclaimed with a sharp note of self-loathing.

“Trust me, it’s definitely something I wanted. Something I still want.” I was tempted to put her hand on my dick to prove just how much want there actually was. “There’s just something you need to know about me first, and I was going to tell you tonight—”

“I already know you’re still in love with your ex.”

What?

“Hell no!” I pulled off the pavement, turning onto one of the many dirt roads that led to the beach and putting the car in park so I could turn to face her. This wouldn’t wait the five minutes it would take to drive us home. “I’m not in love with Claire. No fucking way.” Just the thought spiked my blood pressure.

Her face puckered with confusion. “You’re not?”

“No!”

“Then what could I possibly need to know before a kiss?” she fired back. “Are you a murderer?”

“No.” I scoffed.

“A kidnapper? Rapist? Do you have three other wives spread around the United States?” She shrugged in obvious frustration.

“I don’t have a single wife, let alone three—”

“Then what—”

“I’m a pilot!” Shit. Shit. SHIT. It fell out of my mouth so carelessly that I wanted to suck it back in, hit rewind on this moment, and do it all again.

She stilled completely. No blinks, no cursing me out, no glares, nothing. I wasn’t even sure she was breathing.

I sure wasn’t.

“You said you were in the coast guard,” she accused softly, still staring at me in what I assumed had to be shock.

“I am,” I assured her, leaning on the console between us. “I’m a search and rescue pilot for the coast guard.”

Her eyes flared, not in fear but with stark, palpable terror. “Helicopters,” she finally whispered.