The sun bled molten gold across the horizon as Chan’s horse kicked up the soft spray of sand. The salty wind tangled through his hair, brushing the brim of his weathered hat, and the ocean glistened like glass stretched to infinity. He wasn’t expecting music here; not the kind that curled through the air like silk threads, tugging at his very chest.

He reined in sharply, breath catching. The voice was sweet and haunting, threaded with something wild. His gaze followed it across the rippling water and there, perched on a sliver of rock just off a small island, was you. The dying light caught on your skin and the sheen of your hair, making you look like something pulled from the sun itself.

Chan swallowed with a slow smile as if the tide itself had bound you together, his voice rough while leaning forward in the saddle, heart thundering. “That you singin’, darlin’? Or is the ocean just tryin’ to make me lose my damn mind?”