Sanctuary

me.”
    “Going to push her in the river again?”
    “She slipped. And I’ve got something ... else in mind for me and Jo.”
    Brian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want that particular image in my head either.”
    “I just figured you should know what direction I’m planning to take.” To illustrate, Nathan grabbed her when she swung back through the door. Hauling her against him, he kissed her scowling and surprised mouth.
    “Are you crazy?” She shoved an elbow in his gut to free herself, then pushed orders and cash and credit cards into his hands. “Here, figure it out.” She darted over to snag a fresh pot of coffee and tossed scribbled orders on the counter. “Two specials, eggs, scrambled, side of bacon, whole wheat toast. One I don’t remember, but it’s written down there, and we’re running low on biscuits and cream. And if that monster kid at table three spills his juice one more time, I’m going to strangle him and his idiot parents.”
    Nathan grinned as she stalked out again. “Bri, I think it could be love.”
    “More likely insanity. Now keep your hands off my sister and ring up those orders or I’m not feeding you.”
     
     
    AT ten-thirty, Jo staggered into her room and fell facedown on the bed. Everything hurt. Her back, her feet, her head, her shoulders. Nobody, she thought, nobody who hadn’t been there could possibly know how hard waitressing was. She’d hiked up mountains, waded through rivers, spent sweltering days in the desert—and would do so again for the right shot.
    But she would slit her wrists with a smile on her face if she ever had to wait another table.
    And she hated having to admit that Lexy not only wasn’t a lazy malingerer, but she made the job look easy.
    Still, if it hadn’t been for Lexy, Jo wouldn’t have missed that glorious, watery, after-the-rain light that morning. She wouldn’t be gritty-eyed from three hours’ sleep. And her feet wouldn’t be screaming.
    She set her teeth when she felt the mattress give under someone’s weight. “Get out, Lexy, or I might find the energy to kill you.”
    “Don’t bother. She’s not here.”
    She turned her head, narrowed her eyes at Nathan. “What are you doing here?”
    “You keep asking me that.” He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear and clear his view of her face. “Right now, I’m checking on you. Tough morning, huh?”
    She groaned, closed her eyes. “Go away.”
    “Ten seconds into the foot rub and you’re going to beg me to stay.”
    “Foot rub?”
    She pulled her leg back, but he closed his fingers around her ankle, holding it steady as he pried off her shoe. “Ten, nine, eight ...”
    And when he ran the heel of his hand firmly up her arch, sheer pleasure shivered through her system and made her groan.
    “See, I told you. Just relax. Happy feet are the key to the universe.”
    “Galileo?”
    “Carl Sagan,” he said with a grin. “Did you get anything to eat down there?”
    “If I so much as look at another pancake, I’ll throw up.”
    “I thought not. I brought you something else.”
    She blinked one eye open. “What?”
    “Hmm. You’ve got very attractive feet. Long, narrow, an elegantly high instep. One of these days I’m going to start nibbling on them and work my way up. Oh, you meant what did I bring you to eat.” He pressed his fingers against the ball of her foot, worked them down to the heel. “Strawberries and cream, one of Brian’s miraculous biscuits with homemade jam, and some bacon for protein.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you need to eat.” He glanced back at her. “Or did you mean why am I going to nibble on your feet?”
    “Never mind.”
    “Okay. Why don’t you roll over, sit up, and eat? Then I can do this right.”
    She started to say she wasn’t hungry—an automatic response. But she remembered Kirby’s orders to eat. And the idea of strawberries had some appeal. She sat up, trying not to feel foolish when Nathan settled down cross-legged with her foot cradled in his lap. She took the bowl of strawberries and picked one out with her fingers.
    She studied him in silence a moment. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, and his hair was in need of a trim. But the just a bit unkempt style suited him, as did the gold the island sun was teasing out of his thick brown hair.
    “You don’t have to go to all this trouble,” she told him. “I’m thinking about sleeping with