had presented itself to her, thinking that Jared would be exactly what she’d needed to get her through. When in reality, if she was as strong as she pretended, she could have found her own peace. By herself. And not hurt this amazing man who’d been on his way home with his own internal wounds.
His arms tightened around her with the silent strength that she’d craved. She’d needed an anchor after losing Isaac, and he could have taken on that role easily. Or at least that’s how she’d always envisioned it. But the present had new challenges, and he had his own crap to deal with.
So maybe she could be his anchor instead. She could keep him from drifting away, as long as he didn’t let go—and he didn’t have a great track record in that department.
That’s why being with Jared had been so easy. She had no danger of being emotionally invested. No danger of being hurt. What the hell was she doing here with Charlie, then? He had the power to rip her heart to pieces, if she let him. It was insanity to get this close. But she couldn’t stop.
“I told you,” he murmured. “I’m here. That’s not going to change. I wish I could explain how big of a concession that is. But I can’t make any other promises that I may not be able to keep.”
She nodded against his shoulder because that was exactly the issue and always had been. “So we’ll take it slow. We know how to do that.”
“I know how,” he grumbled good-naturedly into her hair. “I just don’t like it.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about sex,” she correctly hastily. “I meant everything else. No sex was just a way to get to where we are now. It worked. I’m over it. I’d strip you right now if only I’d run by the store for condoms instead of wandering around Freeport. That’s what I get for taking a walk without my phone.”
She couldn’t handle the silent screen that never lit up with Charlie’s name. Ironic the one time it had, she’d left it behind.
He groaned. “You’d think we’d learn by now. Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’ve got a nasty bruise that doesn’t need additional trauma. You’ll heal better if I keep my hands off of you. Trust me when I say that I need you one hundred percent when I get you naked.”
Actually, she’d probably heal much faster if they stripped down and reacquainted themselves with the pleasure of each other. Sex was one of the things he gave freely and easily, and she’d missed that part maybe the most.
But she was exhausted. Her whole body hurt and the only thing keeping her stable right now was him. Maybe that was the key—together they could find the sanity in the insane.
“Go to sleep. Anticipation is good for the soul,” she told him and snuggled deeper in his arms with a smile. “You can take me on a romantic date tomorrow night. If it’s good enough, I might let you sleep over again.”
“You anticipate your way, and I’ll anticipate mine.”
She could practically feel his return smile, and unless she missed her guess, it bordered on diabolical.
Charlie had to take the boat back to Duchess Island early in the morning, but he kissed Audra goodbye with enough heat that she almost pulled him back into bed with her. He was still delicious and rumpled, and she missed his body against hers instantly.
“Sure you don’t want me to call in sick to work so we can spend the day playing hooky?” she murmured as he disentangled her fist from his T-shirt with a laugh.
“I absolutely want you to do that. But we’ve got adult things to do today and you just took time off.” His smile softened the blow. A little. “I’m picking you up at six o’clock sharp. Wear something pretty.”
She scowled. “I liked it better when we were both on vacation.”
But she let him go because he was right and then suffered through a very long day of work where she accomplished almost nothing because the anticipation of what Charlie would come up with that could be defined as romantic kept her edgy. Her hip still hurt, but she had no plans to let that get in her way.
All day, she played the anticipation game. Seven hours until I get to see Charlie. Six hours until I can kiss him. Five hours until his gorgeous eyes are on me again. The countdown was killing