Chapter6
886 Words
The Guest House
Ava had never seen the ocean up close before.
Not like this.
The company car—a luxury SUV with dark windows and silent wheels—pulled up just as the sun was setting over the horizon. The Blackwood guest house in the Hamptons wasn’t just a house; it was a masterpiece. All glass and white stone, tucked behind iron gates and tall pines. Like a fortress for someone who hated the world and loved the view.
The housekeeper—a soft-spoken woman named Marianne—greeted Ava at the door with a gentle smile and a glass of white wine.
“I was told to make you comfortable,” she said, leading her through the open-concept living space.
Everything smelled of sea salt and sandalwood. Every window looked out onto the water. It was too clean, too quiet, too perfect.
Ava wasn’t sure if she wanted to curl up and cry…
…or run before she got used to this kind of life.
Her bedroom overlooked the shoreline. There were silk sheets, slippers at the foot of the bed, and a robe that probably cost more than her monthly rent. On the nightstand was a note.
“Rest. Breathe. Do nothing—unless you want to. – D.”
There was no signature, but she didn’t need one.
She knew his handwriting now.
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
She wandered out to the balcony in a light cardigan, barefoot, glass of wine in hand. The stars were so clear it almost hurt to look at them. Everything was quiet. No horns. No chaos. Just the crashing of waves and the distant sound of wind brushing through tall grasses.
And then, as if the night had conjured him—
Damian arrived.
She didn’t hear a car. Didn’t hear a door.
One moment, she was alone.
The next, he was standing behind her, dark silhouette framed by starlight and sea.
“You’re not resting,” he said, voice low.
Ava turned, startled. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
He gave a half-shrug. “It’s my house.”
She tried not to stare, but it was impossible. He wasn’t wearing a suit. Just black pants and a charcoal sweater, sleeves pushed to his elbows. Somehow, that made him look even more dangerous.
And far too human.
“I thought this was supposed to be a vacation,” she said softly.
He stepped closer, arms folding. “It was.”
“Was?”
He held her gaze. “I changed my mind.”
Her pulse jumped.
They stood in silence for a while, just watching the waves.
Then he said, “You didn’t grow up near the ocean, did you?”
She shook her head. “No. I grew up in Kansas. Flat land and flat lives.”
He didn’t laugh, but his eyes crinkled just slightly.
“My father used to say the ocean made men honest,” he murmured. “Too big to lie in front of.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.”
She turned to look at him. “Then why are you here?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
It was the first time she’d ever heard him sound… uncertain.
She sipped her wine. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Hot one minute. Cold the next. Distant. Then suddenly showing up in the middle of the night like some kind of… storm.”
Damian looked at her, and his expression darkened—but not in anger.
“Do I scare you?” he asked.
Ava didn’t answer right away.
“You used to,” she said finally.
“And now?”
She set her glass down and turned to face him fully.
“Now, I think you’re just lonely.”
That hit harder than she meant it to.
He took a step toward her—so close now, the heat from his body seeped into her skin. But his expression was unreadable, carved from stone and something softer just beneath.
“You think you know me,” he said, low and sharp.
“I don’t,” she whispered. “But I think I’m starting to.”
His jaw tensed.
And then his hand reached out—slow, deliberate—and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
It was nothing.
And everything.
His fingers brushed her cheek, and she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, he was still there.
Still watching.
Still fighting something inside himself.
And then, without warning, he said, “You should sleep.”
The moment shattered.
He stepped back, putting space between them again.
“I’ll have breakfast sent in the morning.”
“Will you be here?” she asked, unsure why she even cared.
But she did.
He looked at her for a long beat.
Then turned away.
“No,” he said. “This place isn’t made for me. Just for people I want to protect from the world.”
And with that, he left.
The night swallowed him whole.
And Ava stood alone, heart thudding, a hundred questions swirling in her chest.
She didn’t know what this was.
She didn’t know what he was.
But for the first time in her life, she wanted to find out.
.
- Writer
