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He rolled next to me, and gradually I slipped into sleep. I woke once or twice during the night while the wind howled. But mostly I just drifted off, silent and content next to a man I hadn’t chosen or even wanted, but needed as much as I needed to breathe.
Iopenedmyeyes.There was a gray light coming in from the window. It was morning.
I sat up in bed and tried to fit together the crazy events of that day. The hotel, the yacht ride. Having sex with Eric in my hotel room. My dad, the argument. Running away, the rain and wind, the awful feeling that I was in danger. And how Eric found me. The only person who could find me, the only person who could keep me safe.
I was exhausted. I got up and bundled my wet clothes into an old tote bag I found in the cabin. Then I put on fresh ones. Finally, I looked at the bed. Its white sheets had been tangled and tossed around. Guiltily, I made the bed. Whoever owned this place was owed a pretty big thank you from both of us.
I got up, and then I thought of Eric. Where was he? Had he gone?
And then, I smelled something delightful.
I hadn’t eaten anything since our lunch at the restaurant the other day. And in that time, I’d somehow managed to have life-changing, mind-blowing sex with my dad’s best friend. Twice. I’d survived the worst storm to hit New England in thirty years.
So yeah, I was pretty hungry.
When I got into the kitchen, I was amazed.
There was Eric. He stood with his back to me.
“Good morning,” he growled, and I stood there, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
“Hi,” I said and smiled at him. “That smells … amazing.”
“I only know how to make pancakes,” said Eric. He turned around and passed me a plate stacked with them. They looked delicious, and I could smell butter.
“Got any syrup?” I said.
“Sure,” said Eric. “Or at least, someone does.”
“Who on earth do you think lives here?” I asked.
“Beggin’ your pardon, miss,” said a voice behind me. “But I think I can answer yer there.”
I turned around, my eyes wide.
Sitting on the couch there was a short little man. He was dressed in a cable-knit sweater and a pair of thick wool trousers. He had a fancy-looking pair of boots on his legs.
“Jamie,” said Eric, “meet Niall Locke. He, uh, owns this place.”
I turned and looked at him. The man smiled and revealed a gold tooth glinting in place of one of his incisors. He took off his fisherman’s hat and stood up.
“I happened to stop by this morning to see if there was any damage,” he said. “Imagine my shock when I saw the pair of yers had broken in!”
“Mr. Locke,” I said, shaking his hand while holding the plate of pancakes in the other. “I am …sosorry we let ourselves in here. If there’s anything I can do to …”
“Don’t worry yerself, missy,” chuckled Niall. “Yer good friend Mr. Slade, he explained it all to me this morning. When I asked him what he was doing sitting on me front porch.”
“I told Niall we got ourselves lost in the storm,” Eric said, turning around. He was dressed in a pristine white shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked so handsome and rugged, and I could see the way his hair had curled in the sea breeze that morning. He put one of his strong arms around me in the morning. “I told him that we got lost and needed somewhere to shelter. And he kindly agreed.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “Please, just let me know what I owe you,” I said.
“Oh, don’t ye worry about that, ma’am,” said Niall. I’m just happy the two of yers managed to find it all right. The last time I saw a storm like that I was running a fishing boat off the Atlantic coast. Now that was a fine old misadventure, I can tell ye.”
“Niall,” said Eric, switching off the stove and wiping away the trace of a few crumbs, “owns all the houses here. He used to run his fishing business out of this place. Now he mostly does boat tours. That right, Niall?”
“Right you are, sir,” grinned Niall. “Right, you are.”
“Well, I’m so grateful,” I said.
