After the most soul-quaking sex of his forty-seven years, he held Addy in his arms, sleepy-soft, unguarded, her lashes fanned against her delicate cheekbones. For hours he drank her in, praying her comforting presence would keep the terrors away. Was one night of sweet dreams too much to ask?
Apparently so, because he jolted awake at two a.m. with fire licking his back like a hungry demon and screams of the dying ringing in his ears. Worst of all, he saw Jack Jefferson’s face pressed against the window of the control house, eyes wide in pain and terror. And then the glass shattered, and Jack was gone.
Biting his lip so hard he drew blood, he stifled a scream and bolted from the bed.
He mustn’t let Addy see how damaged he was. She had troubles enough of her own—a burden he couldn’t begin to imagine.
And so, here he sat, high atop the lighthouse, clutching a mug of cold tea and watching dawn lift the darkness from the sea.
Steps clanged on the metal stairs below. She’d found his note, then. He steeled himself for the hard talk to come. What an eejit he’d been, thinking he had anything to offer Addy.
Her soft hand gently gripped his shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep?”
He turned to find her expression relaxed and unguarded. She held a thermos and a mug. “The kettle was cold, so I figured you’d been up for a while. I made us a fresh pot.” She pulled up a folding chair and sat beside him. “Though I’ve got to say, your super-strong Irish breakfast tea will take some getting used to.”
He couldn’t help but smile, despite expecting the worst. “Sorry, love. Believe me, I’d rather be in bed with you than up here.”
She refilled his mug with dark, steaming tea. “I believe you.” She poured her own cuppa, stretched out her legs, and sighed. “New perspective.”
“Pardon?”
She kept her gaze on the horizon as she spoke. “That’s what Zora said I needed. Time to re-evaluate my life, learn from it, and forge a new path.” She ducked her chin and gave a sheepish grin. “Something like that. I wrote it all down in my journal.” She took a sip and winced. “You ever consider getting a coffee machine?”
“Addy—” He swiveled to face her, elbows on his knees.
“Bad dream again?” she asked, holding his gaze.
He searched her jade eyes but found no trace of bitterness, no judgment, just calm, open curiosity.
“Yeah. You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to spoil the moment, so I…” Easier to stare at his boots than see disappointment clouding her eyes. “Surrendered to the inevitable, I suppose.”
“Hey.” She set down her mug and gripped his knee. “Look at me, Kieran.”
He cracked a mirthless grin. “My favorite pastime.”
“We’re both haunted, you and I.” Her eyes glittered, keen and bright in the low, gray light. “I hear mortar fire when a car backfires, screams of the dying when children play. It’s been a long, hard slog back to safety, and the journey’s not over yet.”
“And now, you’re seeing ghosts in my bed.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “And I can’t sleep without reliving it all.” He shifted his gaze to the pale, silvery sea. “I thought I’d put it all behind me, Addy. But it seems meeting you…” Dread hollowed his chest. This wasn’t going to work between them. Between his nightmares and her impossible choices, there was no room for love to grow.
“It’s stirred up some powerful feelings.” She wove her fingers through his, and a tiny flicker of hope winked back to life. “If we have to sleep apart until the dust settles, so be it.” She lifted his hand to her heart and pressed it there, over the steady thump thump he felt even through her wool sweater and windbreaker. “I’m not afraid of ghosts, Kieran—not mine, not yours, and not poor Mary.”
Well, well, perhaps he’d been too quick to expect the worst. His Addy was a strong one, and he’d do well to emulate her.
From far below, a deep woof sounded.
Addy huffed a laugh and rose to her feet. “Snoot’s up.”
“Right.” He drained his cup. “And I need to open up for visitors soon. So—” He stood and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Addy.”
“For the tea?”
“For not giving up on me when I nearly gave up on myself.”
She took his face in her hands. “I may be slow to decide, Kieran, but I’ve already made one choice. This thing we’ve found together is worth fighting for.”
She pecked his lips, then trotted down the stairs, her footfalls ringing out like a musical scale.
Kieran lingered for a moment, staring out to sea as he conjured the face of his mentor. “Jack, at your funeral, I promised to pass on the kindness you showed me, but I’ve been too focused on my own hurt to do much good for others. It’s time to change that, and I’ve found the woman who’ll help me do it—if I can convince her to stick around.”