Page 51 of The Deadly Shallows

Her gaze locked on his, and something unspoken passed between them. Maybe Gabby was right. Maybe he had feelings, deep feelings, for her. Or maybe he was just being kind.

Shaking off that dilemma, she did as Logan suggested and took a deep breath yet again, and despite the fear clawing at her, shut her eyes.

TWENTY-SEVEN

“That was brave,” Noah said to Brooke as Logan left for the night.

“I don’t know about that. . . .”

Still on the bed beside her, he wove her fingers with his. “I do.”

Their gazes held, and she nearly forgot to breathe.

After a moment, he released her hand and moved away from the bed. “Wait just a minute.”

Her entire body tensed. Don’t leave. Not with those men’s faces stuck in her head.

He set the blue duffel at the foot of the bed and unzipped it. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She arched a brow. Not at all what she’d expected him to say.

He pulled out a round white tub with black lettering: Fisher’s Popcorn.

He tapped the lid of the tub. “This is from back in Maryland. It’s the best caramel popcorn ever.”

“Yum.” She wiggled her fuzzy-socked feet, wondering what other goodies he had.

He pulled out an old-style green thermos, with the cup inverted on the top. “Hot chocolate,” he said, setting the thermos on her tray table. “And”—he reached back in the bag—“mini marshmallows!”

“Delicious.”

He rested his hand on top of the thermos. “This baby keeps things hot for a crazy twelve hours, so be careful when taking a sip.”

He pulled out two red tin mugs speckled with white, adding them to the collection of goodies.

“And,” he said with a smile, “the best part.”

She stretched up, trying to snag a peek.

“Miss Congeniality,” he said, pulling out a Blu-ray.

She cocked her head. “How’d you . . . ?”

“Gabby told me it’s your favorite.”

“It is, but we don’t have a Blu-ray player.”

He reached into the bag again.

“No way.” She chuckled as he pulled out a square Blu-ray player in one hand and an adapter cord in the other. “You thought of everything.”

The joy on his face, echoing her own, shifted into one of deep care. “I hope so.”

Caleb smiled when he saw the lights on in Austin’s kitchen and living room. He hadn’t called. He’d wanted it to be a surprise, but doing so ran the risk she wouldn’t be home. He warmed at finding her there.

Climbing from his car, he opened the rear door and pulled out the Outback bags filled with their dinner. Being careful not to spill the French onion soup, he made his way to her door and knocked with his elbow. His technique wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done.

A moment later, she pulled back the sheer curtain donning the door’s paned window and smiled.