Wow.
And yet he wasn’t putting his hands where they shouldn’t be, wasn’t trying to propel her into intimacy. He focused all his passion into kissing her and she felt like there was nothing in the world but the place where their mouths met and moved together.
He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to find him smiling at her. “You’re an amazing woman,” he said, then touched his mouth to hers again.
“You’re...pretty amazing, too.” She drew in a ragged breath.
The waves pounded on. In the distance, there was the sound of a car motor.
He brushed his lips over hers again. “I could do this all night.”
That made her stiffen. “I don’t... I can’t.”
He put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just telling you how much I liked this. In case you didn’t know yet.” His voice was low, sexy.
“I could tell.” Her voice shook and she knew she needed to back away from him or risk losing logic entirely. She forced herself to pull away, to put inches of cool, safe space between their overheated bodies.
He accepted her withdrawal without protest, and that made her appreciate him all the more. “Should we head back?” he asked.
“We should.” And try to figure out how to deal with what had just happened, which would take a steadier state of mind than what she possessed right now.
“If you can carry one of the girls, I can get the other and all our gear,” he said. “Just let me make sure the fire’s out.”
So he used a cup to get seawater to douse the few remaining embers of the fire while she jammed supplies into the large bag he’d brought. He hoisted the bag onto his back and then knelt to pick up Hayley.
Even that was thoughtful. He could tell that Hayley was more likely to be okay with him carrying her than Hope was.
True sensitivity lurked in this giant man.
She picked up Hope, staggering a little under the weight of her, and Sean was strong enough to steady her, then to kneel and pick up the blanket they’d been lying on and drape it around Hope. He put the other blanket around Hayley, and the girls barely noticed being moved.
Minutes later, they’d laid the girls down in their bed in the cabin. When they slipped out into the front room, she shut the bedroom door behind them and then looked at Sean, her heart rate rising again. Would he kiss her good-night?
She hadn’t had a regular dating life. She had no idea how to handle a normal, healthy, developing relationship.
But he didn’t look in a kissing mood, not exactly. “This was on the porch,” he said, holding up a package. “Looks like it was delivered UPS. Thought I heard a vehicle up here a while back.”
She took the package, looked at it. It was addressed to Anna, Hayley and Hope George, and her heart gave a thud, then started to race. Who knew they were here? If Beau had found them...
But when she studied the package more closely, relief washed over her. “It’s from my friend Sheila, back in Montana,” she said, tapping the return address. “I didn’t want her to send anything unless she picked up important mail or something,” she said, looking for a knife to open it. “But she wouldn’t have addressed it to me and the girls if it were something like that. Wonder if she sent me a present?” It wouldn’t be unlike Sheila, who, beneath her issues and swagger, had a heart of gold.
She slid a knife through the package tape and then looked up at Sean. “I’m sorry. You’re my guest and here I’m acting like this package is more important than you are. I hadn’t realized I was a little homesick until just this minute. Would you like some tea, a soda?”
He smiled. “No. I’m headed home to bed. Except now you’ve got me curious about your package.” He said it lightly, but there was something underneath his words.
She shrugged internally and went back to cutting open the package. Inside were two teddy bears, one pink and one purple. Not pastel, but garishly bright. Anna grinned. That was just like Sheila.
There was another little package, too, gift wrapped, with “Anna” written on it in Sheila’s loopy handwriting. She ripped it open.
A heart-shaped metal container was inside, along with a small envelope. The “For My Anna” on the front wasn’t in Sheila’s handwriting. Her heart stuttered.
She slid open the envelope, her hands shaking a little.
The card inside was from Beau.
* * *
SEAN WATCHED ANNA drop the card with a gasp. Immediately, he put a steadying hand on her shoulder and sat down beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“This card is from my ex.” She shoved it away as if it were poison.
“The guy who hurt you?”
Anna nodded, her forehead wrinkled, mouth tight.
Sean glanced into the box, then did a double take. “Did you check these stuffed animals? This...” Whoa. There was a heart-shaped container inside the box, made of something that looked like hammered bronze.
Was her ex trying to win her back, her and the girls? Or could there be something dangerous hidden in the animals or the box?
He examined the bears, top to toe, but could find no resewn spots or suspicious lumps. Maybe they were just what they seemed, dollar-store toys.
Anna picked up the card and read it, her lip curling. “He says he’s sorry about everything.”
“You believe him?”
“No!” She put the card on the end table and shifted it farther from her, a convincing display.
But she didn’t shove away the gift.
“You going to open the box?” He wanted to know how she felt about getting a gift from the man. “See what’s inside?”
She looked over at him quickly. “What, you think I shouldn’t?”
He lifted his hands, palms up. “Your call.”
She put the big box down, lifted out the metal heart-shaped box and looked at it for a minute, forehead crinkled, biting her lip.
Then she lifted the lid by one edge as if whatever was inside might jump out and bite her.
She looked. Opened the box wider and looked closer.
He started to lean closer to look.
Anna slammed it shut. “The nerve of him! I can’t even believe this.” She set the box on the floor and kicked it away from her, arms crossed. “Give me those bears. I’m burning the whole box.”
“What was in the heart?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it, caution coming into her eyes. “Just...something he knew would get to me.”
Okay, he was officially very curious now. “Is it dangerous?”
“No.” She looked away.
His bad gut feeling was getting worse.
His insides twisted as he remembered something he usually tried not to think about: the way his mom had gone back to their father, several times, and always because of things like this: flowers, gifts for the kids, apologies, promises of better future behavior.
As the oldest boy, he’d seen through the gifts starting about age nine. He’d known he didn’t want to go back to his dad, definitely didn’t want his mom or brothers to go. Had sensed that the gifts were a fake and that their father would end up beating her up again.
She’d seen through the gifts, too, sometimes. But their father had been persistent, and in the end, several times, he’d convinced her. Which had made Sean furious.
Of course, Sean hadn’t been looking through the eyes of love the way his mother had. Plus, she’d had three boys to raise on no money, since their father hadn’t let her work.
Their father had used material things to get to her. Not that she’d been materialistic, but she wanted food in her kids’ stomachs and a roof over their heads, obviously.
His father had always promised them a better life, talked about how he’d take them camping and fishing, teach them to be men. The whole male role model thing.
>
He hadn’t delivered, but he’d promised. His mom seemed to believe his promises to help her kids, at least for a while. She’d been dedicated, trying hard to do the right thing for her boys.
Anna was, likewise, a dedicated mother, raising a couple of kids on very little money.
He wanted to help her, but that was a heartbreak game if she was still attached to her abuser. Worse, if she was still attached, she was very much at risk, and so were her girls. “You know,” he said, “sometimes men—abusive ones—use gifts to try to get back on your good side.”
She dipped her chin and lifted her eyebrows. “No kidding.”
“So just be careful, okay? You don’t know what he wants.” He was fumbling here; he didn’t know quite what to say. He only knew it was important to warn her.
“I have a pretty good idea of his intentions.” Her voice had gone cool.
He was making it worse.
The kissing had been awesome, the holding had felt like it could lead somewhere. His heart had gone into stupid mode where he’d basically do anything for the woman he’d given it to.
He wasn’t logical and suspicious, like Liam. Wasn’t cool and calculating behind a boatload of charm, like Cash.
No, he was a complete marshmallow inside, which was why he’d crafted an image that included excessive muscles and a macho attitude.
If Anna went back to her abuser and took those sweet twins with her... The very thought made his stomach churn.
The same thing could happen to them that had happened to his own family.
His heart rate amped up until his chest felt ready to burst. No way, no way could he let that happen.
Yet he had no control over it, no way to keep her safe if she chose to return.
Thinking about her ex made dangerous rage fire up inside him. He drew deep breaths to get control. His anger was a monster he didn’t dare release.
“Look, I can tell you don’t want me here, giving you all kinds of advice,” he said. “I’ll go. But only if you let me call Liam. If he’s not on duty, he’ll send someone out to patrol here.” He tried to smile reassuringly. “Perks of having a cop brother.”
She was gnawing on her lip, her eyes filled with confusion, her fingers tapping on the table in a staccato rhythm. What was going on in her head?
She straightened her shoulders, drew in a big breath and let it out with a whoosh. Then she stood up, the clear indication it was time for her guest to leave. “No. No, it’s fine. The package spooked me a little, but it was sent through my friend Sheila, so we should be safe from Beau.”
Should be safe. He blew out a breath. He wanted her for-sure safe. He was going to insist that Liam keep up a constant patrol here.
“Listen,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible for me just because of...” She waved a hand toward the beach, her face coloring. “Because of what happened down there. We’ll be fine.”
He set aside her offhand dismissal of their closeness—it hurt, but he was a grown-up and could deal with it—and made one last attempt. “Listen, I was planning to go scope out some materials at a lumber yard in Columbia for the next few days. But I can postpone the trip if you’re nervous. If you think he—” He gestured toward the package, not wanting to dignify the jerk with a name. “If you think he might show up.”
Some emotion flashed across her face and then was gone. “No, don’t postpone your trip. We’ll be just fine.”
He opened his mouth to protest.
“Really, Sean. We’re fine.” She walked over to the door and held it open.
She was impossibly beautiful and vulnerable looking, standing there so upright, chin lifted, eyes firm. If he didn’t get out of here now he was going to drag her back into his arms.
She lifted an eyebrow, waiting.
“Okay, then,” he said. “You have my cell number if you need anything, and I think Tony was going to deliver your car tomorrow morning, right?”
“Right,” she said. She tilted her head and gave him an exasperated look. “Sean, we’re fine.”
“I’ll see you in a few days,” he said. Forced himself to turn around and head out of her cabin. Put one leg in front of the other, walking away.
In his mind one question persisted: What had changed her response to him so drastically?
CHAPTER TWELVE
RITA WIPED THE café’s already-clean counter and straightened already-organized napkins and silverware as she waited for her friend Norma’s arrival. She loved the woman, no question, and they’d been strong supports to each other in Maine. Her visit would probably be great.
It was just that Norma knew why Rita had come to Safe Haven, and she would realize, instantly, that Rita was doing nothing to pursue her goals. No way could Rita distract her for the entire week of her visit.
Thing was, the bad possibilities had gotten more vivid to Rita since she’d moved here. What if her child had been taken away from her by social services? What if she’d been an unfit mom, even a criminal?
But ambivalence wouldn’t wash with Norma. She was direct and blunt and sure of herself, and she’d push Rita further than she necessarily wanted to go.
Still, when she looked out the window and saw Norma’s aqua-blue vintage Plymouth Falcon, top down, her friend grinning and waving from the driver’s seat, she couldn’t restrain her own big smile.
Leaving your home behind, everything and everyone you’d known for twenty years, was exciting, and it was working out well. But there was a lot of loss, too.
She ran out into the parking lot and caught Norma just as she was getting out of her car. “You came! I didn’t know if you really would!”
Norma hugged her close, then put hands on her shoulders to hold her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you.” She cocked her head to one side, swooped her eyes down Rita from head to toe, then back up. And then she smiled. “This place agrees with you,” she said. “Must be all the sunshine. I want me some of that.”
“Come in. I’m working until six.” She slung an arm around Norma, escorted her inside and sat her down at the counter next to Pudge LeFrost and his son. “I’ll bring you a milkshake. You’ve lost weight.” She studied her friend. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just skinny.” Of course, there was a lot Norma wasn’t saying, a lot they had to catch up on. Norma had been diagnosed with stage three breast cancer a couple of years ago, and the treatments had been rough. Hopefully, though, her remission would last.
Rita hurried around to her tables, taking care of everyone, explaining about her best friend, and soon lots of people were talking to Norma. Which was good. Rita was hoping that, once Norma saw what it was like here, she might move down. Not much keeping her up North at this point.
Claire sat at the counter, too, eating salad, so Rita leaned over to her. “Make sure Norma is okay,” she said, knowing Claire liked to make herself useful and had never met a stranger.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re walking tomorrow, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. As long as I can bring Norma along.”
“I don’t have the wind I used to,” Norma admitted.
“Quitting smoking would help.”
Norma stuck out her tongue. “Know-it-all.”
Next, Jimmy came out of the kitchen and Rita introduced him, hoping her face didn’t color up too much. She focused on Norma. “She’s a therapist who took early retirement,” she explained. “Hoping she might see fit to move down here.”
Jimmy smiled at her, raising a “hang on” hand to someone calling him from the kitchen. “It’s a good place for a new beginning. Nice to meet you.”
As soon as Jimmy went back behind the counter, Norma tugged Rita closer and whispered in her ear. “’Bout time you found a man your own age.” She was grinning broadly.
“I didn’t find him and he’s not my man,�
�� Rita said, keeping her voice low.
Norma just laughed. “Don’t forget, I’m trained to see past all those defenses. We’ll talk.”
And they did, as soon as Rita’s shift ended and she was free to ride back to her apartment with Norma.
“Your new friends seem nice,” Norma said. “That Claire, she’s a talker, but sweet. Pretty, too. Just needs someone to tell her not to wear those flowered leggings. Skintight patterns aren’t a good look on anyone.”
“I don’t understand half of what young women wear these days,” Rita admitted.
“No kidding,” Norma said bluntly. “You’re on the opposite end of the scale. You’re too pretty to dress as old as you do.”
She guessed Norma had earned the right to give her advice, since she’d been the one to counsel Rita through the early days of her amnesia. Norma could have made the big bucks in private practice, but she’d chosen to be the psychologist for a low-income health center. After their clinical relationship was over, they’d become good friends.
Rita led the way to her apartment and ushered Norma in, setting the woman’s small suitcase in the guest room, and then she came back out. “Listen to yourself,” she said. “You’ve got criticism for what Claire wears and what I wear. While you...” She gestured at Norma’s plain shirt and shapeless jeans. “You’re not one to talk, you know?”
“I’m not looking to attract a man,” Norma said bluntly. “That’s all over for me.”
“We’ve talked about that. It doesn’t have to be. A good man will look past your cancer scars.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. Anyway, this talk isn’t about me—it’s about you. What’s going on between you and your hot boss?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?” Norma raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Well, not nothing,” Rita amended, her face warming. “I just... I’m not ready.” She opened her fridge and pulled out a beer and a pitcher of sweet tea. “Drink?”
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