Safe Harbor. Hope White
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to make the delivery. That’s when Alex figured out he’d shot up to the top of Waverly Harbor’s most eligible bachelor list.
Not that he’d encouraged the status. He’d been clear with anyone who’d listen that he wasn’t interested in romance. When he’d first returned to town he’d been too busy taking care of Dad to have a social life. After Dad’s passing, the pain of losing Jessica resurfaced with a vengeance, still too raw, too fresh for Alex to risk getting involved. He couldn’t truly love another woman until he’d healed from his grief.
Nicole yawned. “Excuse me.”
“Looks like you could use a week of sleep, young lady,” Mrs. C. said.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.” Nicole bit back another yawn.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” Alex offered his hand. Nicole pushed back from the table and placed her hand in his.
Her skin was still cold and her fingers felt so delicate against his palm. He nearly picked her up again, but thought better of it.
“Is there anything else you need?” Mrs. C. asked.
“No, just sleep. Thank you for the sandwich and cookies,” Nicole said.
As Alex led her through the front room, she gazed longingly at the fireplace.
“You want to relax in here for a while?” he offered. “Warm up?”
She blinked hopeful amber eyes at him. “Could I?”
“Sure.”
“That would be great. I just can’t seem to get the chill out of my bones.”
He knew he should take her statement, but not in her fragile state.
“Let’s get you close to the fire.” He shifted a thick-cushioned chair in front of the fireplace and grabbed a green-and-yellow afghan.
“How’s this?” he said, draping it over her shoulders.
She sat down, folding her legs beneath her. With a sigh, she said, “I may never get up.”
“There’s no rush.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do than play babysitter.”
“Not really.” He shifted onto the arm of the couch where he had a good view of both Nicole and the street through the front window.
“What about your wife...kids?” she said, staring into the fire.
“No wife, no kids.”
“Huh.”
“Why, ‘huh’?”
“You seem like...never mind.”
“I seem like what?” He crossed his arms over his chest in a mock offended gesture and smiled.
She glanced up, but wasn’t smiling back. “You seem nice.”
The vulnerability in her eyes, in her voice, made him want to look away. But he couldn’t. Nor did he know what to do with the compliment or the awkward silence hanging between them.
“I’ve offended you,” she said.
He shrugged, trying to keep it light. “Some guys think the description, ‘nice’ is the kiss of death.”
“Oh, you mean like ‘you’re nice enough to have as a friend, but nothing more’?”
“Something like that.”
She cracked a half smile, gazing into the flames. He lowered his hands toward the fireplace to warm them.
“You know what I don’t get?” she said.
“What’s that?”
“How you seem to know what I need.”
“Excuse me?” He glanced at her.
“Just now, you knew I wanted to sit by the fire.”
“You were eyeing it like you needed a sugar fix and it was a hot fudge sundae.”
“But you didn’t have to set me up here. You paid attention to what I wanted. No one has ever done that for me.”
The tormented sound of her voice made him crazy on so many levels.
“Not even your cat?” he joked, trying to cheer her up.
She snapped her attention to him.
“Sorry.” He put up his hand. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that when I don’t know what to say to make somebody feel better, I say something stupid.”
“How did you know I had a cat?”
He shrugged. “You seem the cat type.”
“Meaning what?”
“You have a demanding job managing other people’s lives, so I figured a cat is low maintenance. Plus, there’s that whole warm-and-cuddly-in-your-lap thing that women like.”
“You have a lot of experience with women, do you?” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ve had my share.” He glanced into the fire, not wanting to wander down that dark path. Not tonight, not with her.
She gazed into the fire, as well, and they shared a few minutes of companionable silence. He liked the quiet, the peace it always brought him. Sometimes he’d even drift into silent prayer, surrendering his guilt and remorse, asking God to ease his burden. Alex always felt a little better after prayer. The ache wasn’t totally gone, but it was tempered with hope.
As the fire crackled and hissed, Alex realized he’d rarely enjoyed the peace of a quiet moment with a woman. Jessica was always chatting and moving. She wasn’t the type to let one unproductive minute slip by. She sometimes criticized Alex for needing time to chill out in front of the TV watching a Seahawks game. Not that he minded her criticism. She was kinder about it than others had been.
Alex knew he had faults, probably more than most, according to his stepmother, which she drove home on a daily basis growing up.
How did he end up thinking about her? He shook it off.
“So, what’s the cat’s name?” he asked.
When Nicole didn’t answer, he glanced sideways. Her eyes were closed and her cheek pressed against the side cushion of the chair.
He shifted off the arm of the sofa and kneeled beside her. “Nicole?”
Completely out, she looked so content that he didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he watched her sleep and thought about the challenges in store for this woman who, it seemed, had already dealt with her share of violence.
“I was going to put another log—”
Alex put up his hand to quiet Mrs. C. She wandered closer to the fire and eyed Nicole, then glanced at Alex with a worried frown.
“She’s in trouble, isn’t she?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Help me get her to her room?”
Alex scooped Nicole up yet again, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. He climbed the stairs to the second floor, careful not to jostle her too much and wake her, although he guessed she was completely out from exhaustion.
Mrs. C. motored down the hallway to a room at the end, opened the door and pulled down the covers. Alex shifted Nicole gently into the bed and stepped back as Mrs. C. took off Nicole’s shoes and pulled the sheets and comforter across her body. She reached over to turn off a lamp in the corner.
“Leave it on,” Alex whispered. “If she wakes up in the middle of the night she’ll be disoriented. The light will help her remember where she is.”
“There’s a sitting room in here,” Mrs. C. said, leading him across