The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

“That’s hands down the corniest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” she said, with a laugh, and he grinned.

“I know.” His palm was still outstretched, and she dropped her own hand into it and allowed him to tug her into his arms. He nuzzled the hair at her temple and breathed the rest of what he had to say directly into her ear, “It’s true though.”

He was swaying gently, to the beat of some song only he could hear. Charity sighed and snuggled closer, her arms going around his waist, while his hands fisted against her back.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a twat,” he muttered, and she shook her head.

“I understand that my decision to leave was a shock. I’m sorry too.”

“Let’s not spend the remainder of our time together apologizing to each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You all packed?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to miss you, my love.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Miles,” her voice wobbled. “So much.”

“You’re going to have a phenomenal life. Because you deserve it.”

Her throat and nose clogged up, and her eyes stung. She buried her face in his neck, wishing he could hold her forever.

He started to hum softly into her ear, and she smiled, her arms tightening around him.

“You really need to learn some other songs, Miles,” she chuckled, and she felt his lips stretch into a grin against her ear.

“Nah, it’s too late for me, darling. Sometimes you find that one perfect thing and then it becomes yours, forever. Know what I mean?”

She swallowed and nodded.

Of course, she knew what he meant. These last several weeks with him had been her perfect thing. And the memory of their time together would live on in her heart forever.

“Where are you going?” Charity asked into her pillow, when she felt her mattress shift as Miles got up. He had made tender love to her for hours after the party last night. Worshiping her with his body, hands, and mouth. Lavishing her with praise and endearments.

It had been perfect…but now he appeared to be sneaking out of bed and tiptoeing to the door like a thief in the night. She pushed herself up onto her elbow and glared at him in the dim predawn light.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, coming back to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Where are you going?” Charity repeated and reached over to switch on the bedside lamp.

“Charity…last night was my farewell to you. I don’t think I can watch you leave. I couldn’t stand it.”

“You were just going to sneak out without a word?” She sat up, tucking the bedsheet under her arms.

He sighed and cupped her jaw between his palms.

“Be happy, my love.” He gave her sweetest, gentlest kiss.

And left before she could reply.

Miles and Stormy were on the beach when he heard the engine of the SUV start up. Despite his conviction not to watch her leave, he couldn’t prevent himself from turning around to track the progress of the vehicle with his own eyes. He wat

ched it shakily traverse the dirt road toward the bridge. He was too far to see her face…but he was more than passingly familiar with the elegant shape of her head. She was in the back seat. And judging from the tilt of that head, she had spotted him on the misty beach.

Her body language changed, and he saw her press a palm to the window. He made a tortured sound, something between a keen and a moan and lifted his own hand in response.