"Then don't let it end."
She gave a small laugh. "It's just a matter of finding a job so I could stay there. I waitressed for a couple of years; maybe I could find work doing that again or a job in a museum. I had planned to teach history, but I think I'd prefer to work in a museum or something similar."
"You like history?"
Ethan couldn't help but smile as her face lit up.
"I love it!” she gushed. “There's so much to learn from it, so many lives once lived, so many people who walked through these places, paved the roads, and built the world before us. They fascinate me, and I love to hear their stories, see the pictures, and touch things those people once touched. I'd love to see and explore as many historical places as I can before I die."
"I never really thought about it that way," he admitted.
"I also really enjoyed meeting different people while at school. Some of them weren't always so great." She refused to let thoughts of Tristan ruin this day. "But most of them were."
He looked at her as if she'd just told him the ocean was purple and the clouds were full of pink giraffes. She glanced over herself but didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and she was pretty sure she didn't have anything hanging out of her nose. When she looked at him again, the strange gleam in his eyes, and the small smile on his face, warmed her heart.
She was so different from him, he realized. She was eager to get out in the world and explore new things. She enjoyed being around other people, the one thing he couldn't stand unless he was with her. When he was with her, he could focus on something other than the blood pulsing through people's veins, and the driving urge to bury himself in the release he knew their deaths would finally give him.
Unable to resist, he brushed back a stray tendril of her silken hair. She watched him with wide eyes as her lower lip trembled slightly. It was good to know he seemed to affect her as much as she affected him as she leaned closer to him. His gaze slid over the swell of her breasts thrust upward in her orange bikini top, and then over her rounded hips and flat belly.
Her skin was in the early stages of a tan and the golden color brought out the dark gold in her hair and eyes. His fingers slid over her shoulder and toward her cheek, her skin was as soft as a flower petal against his, and he couldn't get enough of it. He had to forcefully pull his hand away before he forgot about everyone else and lost himself to her again.
"I'm sure you could find work anywhere, and I think it sounds like a great plan," he told her.
She gave him a half-hearted smile, but she missed the contact with him. "I'm not sure my parents would agree."
"It's not their life, is it?"
"No, it's not, but they expect a lot from me."
"I'm sure they do, but I'm sure they're already proud of you."
Beginning to feel a little self-conscious, she decided to steer the conversation away from her. "So, what about you, you never really said what you do."
He cast his pole out again and began reeling it back in. "School's not my thing, never was, and I'm not much of a traveler. I like to work with my hands and mainly do odds and ends."
"A jack of all trades?"
"I guess you could say that. I helped to build a house last year; I enjoyed doing it. I discovered I also like to carve things out of wood around the same time."
He didn't tell her this newfound love of his was a great way to keep himself distracted from his more disturbing impulses. He could often lose himself for hours amongst the smell and feel of the wood within his hands as he carved intricate designs into it. It was never something he'd ever thought to do, but once he started the hobby, he couldn't stop.
"I built a gazebo for our lake at home, a porch swing, dining room table, and chairs. My favorite is a children's chest I plan to give to Isabelle and Stefan when they have a baby."
"That's amazing."
It also suited him, she realized as she studied his profile. She couldn't picture him wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk. It was too restricting for him, and though she barely knew him, she knew he would be miserable if he were confined. No, he belonged in a natural element of some kind, on a construction site, or on a fishing boat.
"I'd love to see some of it," she said.
The sun played over his handsome features and lit his eyes when he turned to smile at her. The warmth of the rays caused a thin sheen of sweat to break out on his body and made his skin gleam enticingly.
"Isabelle doesn't know about the chest, but I have some photos on my phone I'll show you. I turned it off and threw it in a drawer when I arrived in Bermuda though, so I don't have it on me."
She laughed as she leaned against his side; she enjoyed how easy it was to be with him and how good he could make her feel. "I did the same. There's no way I'm paying that bill."
"Me either," he agreed.
She swung her legs back and forth over the edge of the boat. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-six, you?"
"Twenty-two."
Emma cast her line back out as they fell into an amicable silence. Neither of them even had a bite, but
