Sanctuary

badly wanted to. “I have things to straighten out at home. And I have to make it up to Brian for leaving him in such a mess tonight.”
    She put her hands to his face, liking the way it felt under her fingers. Cheekbones, jaw, the scrape of beard. Had she ever explored a man’s face this way? Or wanted to?
    “And I have to think.” Firmly, she drew away. “I’m a thinker, Nathan. A planner. This is new territory for me.”
    He rubbed a thumb over the line that formed between her brows. “You’ll just compel me to keep changing directions on you.”
    Fresh nerves skidded over her skin. “Then I’ll have to stay a step ahead. But now, I have to go home.”
    He could see her mind was made up, and so he forced himself to readjust the pleasant image of waking beside her in the morning. “I’ll drive you.”
    “You don’t have to—”
    “Jo.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and his voice was quiet and final. “You’re not going out alone in the dark.”
    “I’m not afraid. I’m not going to be afraid anymore.”
    “Good for you. I’m still driving you. Or we can argue about it, I can maneuver you back into the bedroom, and drive you home in the morning. Does your father have a gun?”
    She laughed, pushed at her bangs. “It’s very unlikely he’d shoot you for sleeping with me.”
    “If he does, I’m counting on you to nurse me back to health.” He took his keys from the counter.
    “I’m a southern woman,” she said as they started out the door. “I’ll even find a petticoat to tear into bandages.”
    “It would almost be worth getting shot for that.”
    As she climbed into his Jeep, she asked, “Ever been shot?”
    “No.” He slid in beside her and started the engine. “But I had my tonsils out. How much worse could it be?”
    “Considerably, I’d imagine.”
    She stretched out her legs, leaned back, and shut her eyes. She was tired, but deliciously so. Her muscles were loose, her mind pleasantly fogged. The air felt silky on her skin.
    “The nights are best on the island,” she murmured, “when the quiet just rings in your ears and no one else is awake. You can smell the trees and the water. The sea’s a whisper in the background, like a pulse beating.”
    “You can be alone and not be lonely.”
    “Mmm. When I was a little girl I used to imagine what it would be like if I were all alone, had the island all to myself just for a few days. It would all be mine, everywhere I walked, everywhere I looked. I thought I would like that. But then I dreamed it, and I was afraid. In the dream I kept running and running, through the house, out into the forest, over the beach. I wanted to find someone, anyone, to be there with me. But I was all alone. And I woke up crying for Daddy.”
    “Now you take pictures of being alone.”
    “I suppose I do.” She let out a sigh and opened her eyes. And there, through the dark, she saw the glimmer of light. “Kate left a light on for me.”
    It was comforting, that flicker of home. She watched it dance through the trees, outdo the shadows. Once she’d run away from that light, and once she’d run toward it. She hoped the time would come when she could walk either way without fear.
    As they neared the end of the drive, she saw the figure rise from the porch swing. Her stomach did an ungainly roll before Nathan covered her hand with his.
    “Stay here. Lock the doors.”
    “No, I—” She let out a trembling breath. “It’s Brian,” she said, feeling foolish at the wave of relief that swamped her.
    Nathan nodded, also recognizing the figure as Brian stepped into the light. “Okay, let’s go.”
    “No.” She gave the hand that covered hers a quick squeeze. “Let’s not complicate it. If he needs to yell at me some more, I deserve it, and I don’t want the two of you eyeing each other and trying to figure out how to handle the fact that you’re friends and you’re sleeping with his sister.”
    “He doesn’t appear to be armed.”
    It made her laugh, as intended. “Go home.” She shifted, finding it simple to just lean over and touch her lips to his. “Let Brian and me deal with our family baggage. We’re too polite to do a good job of it in front of you.”
    “I want to see you tomorrow.”
    She opened the door. “Come for breakfast—unless you’re set on having your world-famous toast.”
    “I’ll be here.”
    She started toward the porch, waiting until she heard his Jeep reverse before she mounted the stairs.