About That Kiss Read online




  A love worth fighting for

  Once a dedicated Coast Guard rescue swimmer, Nathan Malone lost more than his confidence the day he couldn’t save his fiancée. He lost his faith in love. Nathan’s come home to Cassabaw Station and put his life on hold. That changes, though, when Sean Jacobs and her five-year-old daughter move in next door.

  Sean is unpacked and unsettled, and the fear in her eyes tells Nathan she’s running from something. Yet despite his better judgment, Nathan can’t ignore the tug at his heart. He’d do anything to protect Sean and her adorable daughter, because Nathan’s not letting love slip through his fingers again...

  Nathan Malone stole her breath away.

  Never in her life had she felt like this.

  Sean’s smile deepened at his gesture. “Is that so?”

  Nathan’s head bobbed, and those sun-bleached curls fell around his face, his lips curving into the sexiest of grins. “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  Sean felt a blush steal up her throat. She didn’t even know what to say to that.

  “Shy? No, can’t be shy,” Nathan teased, playing with the shell of her ear. “I think we’ve just kissed those days goodbye.”

  Sean giggled as Nathan tickled her ear. “Not hardly,” she confessed. “I’ll probably be eternally shy.”

  “Well. Even better,” Nathan confessed, continuing to explore her face with his fingertip. “It will be my ongoing pleasure to attempt to break you from eternal shyness.”

  “Good luck,” Sean advised. “I’m a hard nut to crack.”

  “That sounds like a challenge,” Nathan said with a grin, then nodded. “I accept.”

  Together, they smiled, and a joy sank deep into Sean, a feeling that had been vacant from her life in…forever. She felt protected.

  Dear Reader,

  About That Kiss introduces the eldest of the Malone brothers, Nathan, and a stranger—an off islander—along with her whimsical five-year-old daughter, who not only steals, but mends, his broken heart. Sean Jacobs is fearful that a past she’d rather leave behind is about to catch up to her and her little girl, Willa. But what’s even more terrifying is not only falling for the somber, stoic boat captain, but falling for his entire family. Unbeknownst to Nathan or Sean, though, is that fate has stepped in, and both need each other—and the unique quirkiness of a five-year-old girl—like they need air to breathe.

  This third book of The Malone Brothers will once again capture the unique flavors from the first book, Those Cassabaw Days, as well as the second book, At First Touch. Unforgettable, quirky characters and the idyllic setting of the South Carolina barrier island return, as do the childhood memories the setting encapsulates for me. From the salt marshes to the 1930s beach cottages, having grown up on the southeast coast all it takes is a certain taste, a particular song or the faint recollection of a scent to remind you of true happiness.

  Cindy

  CINDY

  MILES

  About That Kiss

  Cindy Miles grew up on the salt marshes and back rivers of Savannah, Georgia. Moody, sultry and mossy, with its ancient cobblestones and Georgian and Gothic architecture, the city inspired her to write twelve adult novels, one anthology, three short stories and one young-adult novel. When Cindy is not writing, she loves traveling, photography, baking, classic rock and the vintage, tinny music of The Great Gatsby era. To learn more about her books, visit her at cindy-miles.com.

  Books by Cindy Miles

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  The Malone Brothers

  Those Cassabaw Days

  At First Touch

  About That Kiss

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  For Macy Harden, my sweet little cousin, who has the courage of a lion and the fierce determination of her great-grandfather and my grandfather, Wimpy.

  For Bonnie Heller, my lovely up-north auntie, who reads all my books and who birthed my crazy cousin, Henry, who shot me with a BB gun one time. It still hurts when it rains (kidding!).

  For my Harden family, who gave me so many cherished memories of growing up on the salt marsh, crabbing the river and just general lifelong love. Gosh, I miss Frances and Wimpy!

  And for my mom and dad, who always encouraged imagination. I love you guys!

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM ETHAN’S DAUGHTER BY RACHEL BRIMBLE

  PROLOGUE

  Off the coast of Alaska

  Bering Sea

  Three years earlier

  “SWIMMER AWAY, SWIMMER’S OKAY!”

  Lt. Commander Jales’s call was the last thing Petty Officer Nathan Malone heard as he leaped from the Jayhawk and plunged into the livid sea below. His body shot through the frigid water like a torpedo. He immediately resurfaced, the blade wash from the chopper beating him in the face, the torso. Adrenaline surged through him. Fear propelled him through the water, waves crashing against him. Over him. The sky was nearly as pitch-black as the water. Visibility zilch.

  Addie.

  He pushed toward the Zany Moe, swimming hard, fighting the roaring squall. His fiancée’s fishing boat lay on her starboard side, sinking below the dark water. Nathan scanned the boat, his eyes fastening on Addie’s red slicker. Not her guppy suit. Her arm lifted, waved, then she clutched the rail she was desperately holding on to as another wave swamped her.

  Her first mate, Chip, was nowhere. Nathan scanned the choppy water and peered through the rain, looking for the inflatable Zodiac. Like Chip, it was nowhere.

  Nathan swam closer to the Zany Moe, throwing arm over arm, pushing his weight against the stone-like waves. He shouted at Addie to jump, motioned with his hands. The roar of the storm deafened him, rang through his ears. She couldn’t hear him. But she’d understood. Addie nodded and slowly let go of the rail. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she took a step back then broke for the edge.

  A wave crashed over the boat, over Addie, washing over Nathan’s head. When he bobbed up and cleared the water, he scanned the boat. The water.

  Addie had disappeared.

  Panic squeezed his throat, and with frantic desperation, he kicked out, swam hard to the bow that was slowly slipping beneath the black water.

  “Addie!” he shouted, over and over. His eyes searched. He swam. Looking for just a piece of that red slicker. He ducked under, then back up. Nothing.

  The Zany Moe was sinking down fast now, and with no captain manning the wheel, the violent, angry sea propelled the boat like a rubber toy in a bathtub. Nathan could feel the tug of the current as the steel plunged under the water. He pushed hard, refusing to give up. She was here. He hadn’t lost her.

  “Addeline!�
�� he shouted until his voice cracked. He swallowed seawater. He swallowed air. He darted his eyes everywhere as he panicked but saw nothing except gray, black and the white froth kicked up by the crashing waves. The waves grew, like being in rolling hills, and Addie was nowhere to be found.

  He turned his eyes skyward and noticed the Jayhawk hovering overhead. His captain signaled and dropped the line. Nathan turned away, scanning frantically the gray swells and bursts of foam as the sea churned. No sign of Addeline. Not...anywhere. He screamed into the wind, until he had no air left, and his throat scorched from swallowing too much salt water. The sea spray from the blade wash as the chopper dropped closer blinded him. With his lungs burning, he swam to his line, and the chopper pulled him up. Nathan kept his eyes fastened on the angry waters below. He couldn’t see from down there, bobbing in the storm, being tossed around. They’d find her. From the Jayhawk, he’d be able to see that red coat. Just over that next hill of water. That next wave. She’d be there, waiting. He’d find Addie.

  He wasn’t leaving until he did.

  Nathan clung to the edge of the open door of the Jayhawk as they searched for hours. Dread filled his insides with each ticking moment that passed. She’d not been wearing her guppy suit. The damn thing he’d told her more than once to put on at the first sign of any trouble. It was insulated. It’d keep her warm if she ended up in the icy water.

  She’d been wearing only that damned red rubber coat.

  Four hours passed before they found Chip, dead. Wearing the guppy suit. And about a half mile away, the inflatable Zodiac.

  For three days they searched the wreck site, and even though the waters had somewhat calmed with the passing of the storm, there was never a sign of Addie. Nathan couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t leave the station, much less his post. Hope fled, turning into a clawing, painful desperation to get Addie back. It left a hole in his gut.

  “You did everything you could, Nathan,” Lt. Commander Jales said. The Jayhawk’s pilot put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder and squeezed. “You did, son. That was...a helluva storm, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.”

  The words reverberated in Nathan’s head, bounced off his skull and fell flat. The sea had swallowed her up. Over and over in his head, he saw her standing there, waving at him. He’d never see her again. Pain tore at his insides. He’d not done everything. He’d had eyes on Addie. Had told her to jump. He’d been right there.

  It’d not been enough.

  He’d not been enough.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cassabaw Station

  Carolina barrier island

  Late June

  Present day

  THE ALARM’S SCREECH broke through the room and Nathan’s sleep, and he pushed off his stomach to sit on the edge of the bed. He tapped the alarm off and pushed his fingers through his hair.

  Four a.m., and it was opening day of shrimping season. They were going to get an extra-early start.

  Running through his morning ritual, Nathan put on a T-shirt and shorts, then pulled his hair back. Quickly washing his face and brushing his teeth, he then jogged downstairs, the smell of bacon and coffee wafting up the stairwell.

  “’Bout damn time you dragged yourself out of bed,” his grandpa, Jep, grumbled from the stove. “You goin’ for a haircut later?”

  Nathan’s dad, Owen, was sitting at the table, and he threw his son a grin.

  “Jep, enough about the hair,” Nathan said, pouring coffee into an insulated thermos. “It’s getting old.”

  “Well, I’m old, dammit, and I’m tired of lookin’ at my eldest grandson with long, girlie hair.” He swore under his breath. “Ponytail and such. Like a pirate or some such nonsense. Or a hippie! Godalmighty damn.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Chicks dig it.”

  Jep snorted. “Sure they do, boy. I can tell by how they’re lining the drive each weekend. Now quit arguing and eat up.”

  Nathan gave his grandpa a quick peck on the cheek then jumped out of the way before the old guy one-twoed him. Grabbing a bacon-and-egg biscuit from the pan on the stove, he joined his dad at the table. Jep sat with them, sipping on a coffee mug surely older than Nathan himself. Tradition, Jep always said. It’s a good thing to have. Just then, a quick knock sounded at the back door, before it opened. Nathan’s middle brother, Matt, stepped over the threshold.

  “’Bout time you got your sorry backside outta bed,” Jep grumbled.

  Matt ruffled Jep’s thick white hair, grabbed a biscuit then sat with them.

  “Good to have your help on opening day,” Owen said.

  Matt gave a lopsided grin. “You almost had two helpers. I had to convince Em that she really shouldn’t be on a trawler in the Atlantic in her condition.”

  “Did she smack you for that?” Nathan asked.

  “Yep.” Matt shoved the rest of his biscuit into his mouth.

  Nathan figured his sister-in-law, now six months pregnant with his first-ever niece or nephew, had a head of concrete. It wouldn’t surprise him at all to find she’d stowed away on the Tiger Lily.

  They quickly finished breakfast, grabbed their gear and set out. The early-morning Carolina air was still and warm and humid as they walked down to the dock. The night birds still called, and cicadas and frogs rivaled their choruses. A typical low-country morning. Tradition. Home. Family.

  Living the dream.

  Almost, anyway.

  Living on the Back River, the water was deep enough to berth their thirty-foot trawler, so while Owen took the wheel and began to ease along, Nathan and Matt both perched at the bow in silence, studying the water ahead as the Tiger Lily sliced through the calm darkness. Nathan inhaled, holding the briny air in his lungs before letting his breath out slowly. It was going to be a damn good day. The weather conditions were perfect. Warm air, warmer waters. Nathan knew, though, that the calm blue-gray of the Atlantic could churn and cough and consume any and everything in its path, all in the blink of an eye. The sea? She was never, ever to be trusted. But for now, he’d gladly accept the bounty she’d offered up.

  As they cleared the river and entered the sound, Nathan and Matt dropped the trawler’s outriggers and they headed out to sea. As morning broke, other trawlers dotted the horizon, but the Tiger Lily was in an optimal spot, where the waters were moving in the same direction. They rode the shifting tides, avoided slack-water time. After baiting the nets, Nathan and Matt dropped the doors, and after just one drag they raised both nets filled with Atlantic brown shrimp. Nathan let out a holler, and Matt threw his head back and laughed. Owen simply shook his head, a grin on his weathered face.

  The nets dropped load after load, and they filled the coolers to the gills with shrimp. It’d been a good haul for opening day—more than an average haul. By the time they’d dropped the load at the docks and the Tiger Lily began chugging home, the sun had peaked. Three o’clock on a June day. Hot as all holy hell.

  “Hope that sets the pace for the season,” Owen said from the wheel.

  “It’d be nice,” Nathan called back. Since they shrimped almost year-round, even a slow season wasn’t terrible. Last year had been a big improvement from the year before. Same with crabs, which they tended to run commercial traps for in the summer months leading into early fall, just to make the extra money. Even the infamous Carolina blue crabs were heading farther out, away from the riverbeds and into deeper waters. Hell, the entire ecosystem had gone squirrely. They even had a few great whites show up from time to time. One local white that showed up three years running, Lucy, had found herself on the news more than once. Way different from when he and his brothers were growing up, when they could drop lines off the floating dock and pull in an easy half bushel of crabs in no time flat. Still, things had been good for the Malone family.

  They were blessed, to say the very least. Nathan glanced skyward once more, notic
ed the cerulean sky, felt the sun’s warmth on his face. Yeah, this year would be good for shrimping.

  Owen slowed the motors and eased the Tiger Lily into the river leading home. The sun beat down on Nathan’s bare back, and he was half tempted to jump in.

  “You got new neighbors?” Matt asked.

  Nathan glanced at his brother, and Matt inclined his head. Nathan followed his brother’s gaze. He lifted the shades from his eyes. At the end of Morgan’s old dock sat a girl. A woman, rather. A little girl sat next to her, and their feet were dangling over the floating dock and into the water. The little girl had on a neon pink bathing suit that could probably be seen for miles around. Both had short dark hair, and that was about all Nathan could tell from where he stood. What were they doing there? The little girl leaped to her feet as they passed, waving her skinny little arms. Nathan lifted his hand and waved back.

  “No one’s lived at old Morgan’s place for nearly ten years,” Owen called from the wheel. “Far as I know, the old man didn’t have kin except his cousin, Bartholomew.”

  “That doesn’t look much like Cousin Bartholomew,” Matt muttered.

  “Nope,” Nathan agreed as he slipped his shades over his eyes and watched as the young woman—no doubt the girl’s mother—grasped her daughter’s hand and they hurried along the rickety old dock, toward the house. The whole time, the little girl was hopping from foot to foot, looking over her shoulder as the trawler eased up the river. By the time the Tiger Lily hit the bend, the pair had disappeared into the swath of live oaks that all but consumed Morgan’s place.

  “Maybe they’ve bought the house,” Owen remarked. “Shame to see that place just sit. It’d be nice to have new neighbors.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you should run over later and introduce yourself.”

  “Dad, you are such a social butterfly,” Nathan accused, and Matt laughed. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself? Anyway, you just like having a bunch of kids around.”