for his own protection. Because, since arriving in Spellbound Falls, he’d been taking almost daily swims in an inland sea that shouldn’t exist, waking up some mornings to the sound of a dead cat loudly purring on his chest, and falling under the spell of a beautiful, definitely real angel/enchantress. Oh, and he’d taken an eagle’s word for it that hiking down to the fjord—which also hadn’t existed five years ago—would net them a ride back to Inglenook in a boat.
Realizing he was in danger of self-destructing if he stalled any longer, Gunnar forced himself to get out of the truck. He went in his cabin and put on his swim trunks, headed down the stairs and across what was left of the beach, then walked into the water up to his waist. He dove into an oncoming swell and surfaced several yards from shore, then started swimming with every intention of not returning until he’d purged at least enough rage to be able to control his reaction the next time he saw that square, two-inch, flesh-colored bandage on the inside of Katy’s right forearm. If she ever let him near her again, that was.
Chapter Eighteen
The morning after her resignation was not nearly as satisfying as Katy expected. With nowhere to go, nowhere she was needed, she stood in the doorway of her cabin and stared out at the woods, wondering what she’d been thinking. She’d stood up for herself, sure, but at what cost? So much for logic if it took away what she cared about most.
With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of bed. Maybe, with nothing but free time on her hands, she should spend the day with the people, and animals, she loved. Okay, she told herself, making a list in her head. After she got dressed, she’d hit the coffee shop, grab some coffee and donuts to take to see her parents, then swing by and take Quantum for a ride on the way back. By the end of a day like that, she might just start to see the big picture.
Just as she was about to head out, she heard the sound of truck tires on gravel. Katy peeked out the window, and the sight made her head buzz. What was he doing? There was no room for Gunnar Wolfe in this day. What nerve to just show up, especially after the way he’d acted the day before. A small voice whispered something about the way she’d acted, too, but she pushed it away and stepped back from the window.
“Katy?” he called as he knocked.
She froze, considered pretending she wasn’t there, then remembered her pickup sitting out front. But she could be out for a walk, couldn’t she? Or maybe someone came and picked her up, a guy even. She could have a date, a morning date, couldn’t she? Who was Gunnar Wolfe to decide she wasn’t allowed to date anyone else?
A second knock stilled her thoughts and made her smile. They hadn’t even spoken, and she was already picking an imaginary fight. At this point, he probably wouldn’t care in the slightest if she had a date. She felt pretty sure she’d sealed their future fate, or lack thereof, yesterday. But then, why was he standing outside her front door?
“Katy, it’s Gunnar,” he said, voice quieter but somehow more intense. “Please let me in.”
A curious tingle started at the back of her neck. Maybe she could spare a few minutes in her wide-open day. With a deep breath and a big flourish, she swung the door open.
Gunnar’s eyes went wide, as if he hadn’t really expected her to answer. “Oh, hey. You’re here.”
“Yep. Though just about to head out.”
He nodded. “Understood. I won’t keep you long.”
Katy smiled without meaning to, realizing in a hot rush that she’d missed his face. Apparently, she’d gotten quite used to starting her day with those penetrating blue eyes and that cocky smile. She stared down at the floor until the heat passed. Last thing she needed was for him to feel like more than an interruption.
She stepped back to let him enter, then folded her arms and waited for some explanation.
“Sorry to intrude,” he said, “but I need your help.”
“Is something wrong?” Sharp prickles of concern now crawled up Katy’s back.
“No. No. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why me?”
Gunnar flashed a sheepish smile, then glanced around the room. His gaze landed on her sloppily made bed, the turquoise comforter crooked and lumpy. “Nice place. Looks lived-in.”