next to each other, hearts aligned.
It was surreal.
Granted, most people would probably think her lack of a relationship history was more bizarre—and they’d probably be right—but that was because they didn’t understand the reasons for her choices.
Even more surprising was the fact that Raven liked the idea of simply sleeping with Jack. The quiet comfort of having him next to her, the weight of his arm draped across her waist, the sound of his steady breath at her ear. Amid the storm raging outside, and the one that seemed determined to wreck every aspect of her life, he made her feel safe and secure.
Which wasn’t to say she’d consider seeing him past this weekend, or God forbid, having a relationship with Jack Baines. Those options weren’t even on the table. This weekend was just that. A weekend. Plain and simple.
Most definitely nothing more than that.
Monday morning, Jack awoke to a beautiful woman in his arms. The fire was mostly embers now, but he wasn’t remotely cold. He and Raven had remained close throughout the night, moving together as they shifted positions. It’d been years since he’d slept with a woman like that, not since things were still good between him and Alannah.
He liked sleeping with Raven. And he liked waking up to her even more. The fact was, he liked everything about her. Leaving her later this afternoon would be hard. But she wasn’t interested in anything more, and he’d told her the same.
Not that they could make a relationship work, even if they wanted one. They lived in separate cities, and he was likely to be traveling a lot over the next few months. Better to enjoy the time they had and not worry about tomorrow.
As Raven slept, Jack slid out from under the blanket. Brilla followed and waited patiently as he slid open the door and released the shutters so she could run outside. The sky was a glorious Capri blue, the kind of cloudless sky that’s only possible on a crisp, autumn day.
When Brilla came back inside, Jack went to a window opposite where Raven slept and opened the shutter. Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room.
Raven stirred. “Good morning.” Her voice was groggy with sleep.
He turned toward her, and his breath caught. Her smile was as dazzling as the sun. She was lovely, and so full of light, his chest swelled with happiness. “Morning.”
“Looks like we survived.”
He chuckled. “We did. And look, it’s a beautiful day.” He pointed to the window. While the sky was calm, there was plenty of chaos to contend with. Branches, leaves, deck furniture, and other debris were scattered across the lawn. Compared to what could have happened, these were minor inconveniences, easy to fix.
Raven joined him, threading her arm around his waist, and resting her head against his chest as she surveyed the damage from the window. He liked the ease with which she touched him now, and how comfortable she seemed holding him close.
“We have to go outside and check things out,” she said.
“I’m not sure it’s safe.” He stroked her back with the palm of her hand.
“That’s why we need to go. My tree can’t be the only one to fall. Other people probably need help.”
“Isn’t there a service we can call or a department that will clear away trees?”
She looked up at him, her brow lifted. “This is Heron Harbor. There’s no agency or department. There will be crews of guys with chainsaws helping people. That’s the way it works here.”
Shit. He hadn’t used a power tool in years, but he’d give it a go if he had to. “Do you have a chainsaw?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Bullet dodged. “So how are you—or we—going to help?”
“Lots of ways. Plenty of people don’t have generators. The elderly might need meals or medicines. I’m sure someone is planning something in town.”
A half-hour later, Raven and Jack were ready to leave, steeled with coffee and the last of the bagels Jack had brought. This time, she’d ditched the boots for a pair of running shoes.
“You ready to see your car?” he asked before opening the front door.
She sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
They stepped out onto the porch, and Jack made a sweep for downed wires. They all seemed to be intact and attached to the poles at the end of the driveway. They’d gotten lucky.
Raven’s car had not. The BMW was crushed beneath a mass of long, soggy, weeping willow branches. The front windshield had shattered and caved in, and the