She squints up into the light. “Tyler.”
I pull her against me. Her body is wet, fabric clinging to her everywhere. Even her hair is damp. I press my lips to her forehead, not caring about anything except that she’s here.
“You’re so late,” she murmurs against my chest.
I attach the light to my belt loop and pull back to search her face, my eyes adjusting to the dark as I cup her cheeks. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how fucking sorry I am.”
She exhales, her breath trembling as she straightens.
A tiny sound between us has me startled.
“What are you holding?” I demand.
“Hugo. I caught him when he landed, but I forgot to bring his cage and couldn’t find my way back in the dark. Especially because I tripped into a rock and hurt my ankle.”
“Come on.” I lift her in my arms and, treading carefully, carry her back out to the beach. “There’s a boat coming soon.”
I steer us around trees, ensuring I don’t bump her into any.
The dark shape looms ahead, craning its neck into the dark.
“You came here on a horse?” Annie says, disbelieving.
“When I found out you’d left, I didn’t want to wait.”
We get out of the trees, and I set her carefully on the dry sand, the bird still clutched in her hands.
“Wow. Tyler Adams braved a horse for me.”
Her half-teasing, half-awestruck tone has my lips twitching despite the dark emotion that hasn’t released its grip on my stomach.
“I’d brave anything for you.”
I drop to the sand in front of her, reaching for her ankle. She lets me take it in my hand as I prod it with my fingers.
“You probably think I’m stupid for chasing down a bird at sunset.” She winces when I hit a tender spot. “But his mate is waiting for him. I couldn’t have him dying before he found her.”
The bones feel as if they’re in the right places, but she hisses when I hit another spot.
My hands wrap around her ankle, unwilling or unable to let her go. “If something had happened to you over a damn bird…”
Annie sneaks a look out of the corner of her eye. “I’m kind of a romantic. But you knew that when you signed on for this shitshow.”
“You’re perfect. There’s not a single thing about you I would change. But it’s good you’re holding that bird because otherwise I might kill him myself.”
Her half laugh eases the ache in my gut.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs, and my chest cracks.
“Me too. I’m sorry I’m late.” The breath trembles from my lips, and I stare through the darkness around us, the breeze whipping through my wet shirt. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”
Before she can respond, a light cuts though the darkness from the direction of the sea.
* * *
“Letus know how she’s doing,” Jax says at our door, the mask of concern and exhaustion on his face probably matching mine.
I nod as he and Haley turn to leave. At first it seems Jax might not be willing to go, but his wife catches his gaze, and they communicate without words. I pull the door closed as I step back into our villa.