One Good Reason (Boston Love #3)

Cursing under my breath, I hop over the rail onto the narrow wooden dock and try my best to replicate the knot Parker demonstrated last week. I’ve barely coiled the ropes when he appears by my side.

“Perfect,” he announces, reaching down to snug the knot. “You’re a natural.”

I meet his eyes, feeling wary. “Are we really staying here?”

His gaze is warm; his cheeks are red with cold.

“Safest place I could think of, on short notice.”

“But how?” I shake my head. “How did you possibly make this happen?”

He grabs my hand and tugs me to my feet. “They were going to knock this place down, about a year ago. Let it crumble into the ocean. Lighthouses are mostly automated nowadays — they don’t need light keepers, anymore.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to see it fall into disrepair, dependent on some shitty state park budget to keep it up and running. So I bought it.”

My mouth gapes. “You bought a lighthouse.”

He glances over at me. “Did I mention my family has a lot of money?”

I blink. “I knew it was a lot. I just didn’t realize it was buy-a-lighthouse-with-your-trust-fund kind of money.”

“If it makes you feel better, this purchase put a rather large dent in my trust fund.” His hand tightens on mine. “Will you still come sailing with me if I’m poor?”

“You’ll never be poor,” I inform him dryly. “WestTech is valued at over two billion dollars.”

His eyes hold mine. “That wasn’t my question.”

“Yes.” I sigh deeply. “I’ll still go sailing with you if you’re poor. I don’t even know why you have to ask that question. Have I ever given you the impression that money is important to me?”

“Money is important to most people. I’d say every relationship in my life, with the exception of Nate, Phoebe, Chase, and Gemma, is driven almost exclusively by financial motives. People who want my lifestyle, who crave a stake in my company, who want to work their way up the social ladder using the West name.”

Hearing him say that in such a matter-of-fact tone makes my heart clench.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I have no interest in your money? In fact…” I whisper, moving closer. “I’m really just using you for sexual favors.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” He grins. “Now let’s go. It’s fucking freezing out here. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in the middle of the ocean on Christmas Eve.”

“This was your crazy idea,” I remind him.

“True.” His eyes dance with humor. “I have no idea why you went along with it.”

“I must be crazy, too.”

“Must be.”

Before we freeze to death, Parker slings our duffle bags over his shoulder and hurries me inside the lighthouse. It’s the strangest thing — it should seem totally uninviting, this rock castle in the middle of the Atlantic… and yet, I’ve never felt more protected or secure than I do when the heavy door closes behind us, the thick metal screeching like a submarine hatch as Parker spins the bolt closed.

The lighthouse is narrow — maybe twenty feet wide — but it’s well over a hundred feet tall. Parker never drops my hand as he leads me up a spiral staircase from the entryway into a tiny living room.

“This place has everything — kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. It’s just…” He trails off.

“Vertical?” I supply, laughing.

“Pretty much. The rooms are stacked like a layer cake, the stairs hug the walls and wind all the way up. I put the bedroom at the top. You won’t believe the view in the morning.”

“I’ll bet,” I murmur, looking around.

It really is incredible. I feel like a princess, making her way up to the tallest turret in some kind of fairy tale. Through the thick-paned windows, I can see the last bit of sunset slipping over the horizon. My face must show my awe, because Parker sounds almost worried when he speaks next.

“I know this probably isn’t what you were expecting.”

“You’re right. It’s not what I was expecting.” I pause. “It’s better.”

“Really?”

“Are you kidding me?” I marvel, turning to take it all in. “This is the most amazing place anyone has ever brought me. Ever.” I grin. “You never do anything by the rules, do you, playboy?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” I step closer to him, craning my neck back to keep our gazes locked. “That’s what I like most about you.”

His eyes soften. “Come on. I want to show you the top.”

Like little kids running through a jungle gym, we race up the stairs as fast as our legs can carry us, passing a kitchen, a small office, a bathroom, and eventually barreling to a stop when we hit the bedroom. Parker tosses our bags on the bed and pulls me toward a ladder that leads up through a portal in the roof.

“Let me go first.” He grabs a rung and starts to hoist himself up. “The hatch is heavy.”

Once he’s got the narrow skylight door open, I watch his legs disappear out onto the top landing. Heights have never exactly been my favorite thing in the world, but I tell myself to stop being such a chicken as I grip the ladder rungs with shaky hands.