The storm hit fast, turning the calm sea into a churning mess of waves. Ellie gripped the side of her small boat, her knuckles white. She’d been out here to clear her head, but now, she wasn’t sure she’d make it back.

A blinding light cut through the rain. Another boat. She squinted, and her stomach sank. Rafe Cameron.

“Ellie!” he shouted over the roar of the storm. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Saving myself!” she yelled back, though the terror in her voice betrayed her.

He threw her a rope, hauling her aboard his boat. The storm raged on as they fought the waves together, silent except for the occasional curse or barked order. When they finally reached shore, drenched and shivering, Rafe collapsed on the sand beside her.

“You’re insane,” he muttered.

Ellie looked over at him, her hair plastered to her face, and laughed. “And you’re here. What does that say about you?”

Rafe turned to her, something unreadable in his eyes. “Maybe I don’t know anymore.”

She didn’t reply, just stared out at the horizon as the rain began to lighten. Somewhere between the storm and the shore, something had shifted—but whether it would last, neither of them dared to say.