Page 32 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

The nightmare flitted into her mind before she pushed it away.

“No. I was getting up.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, but only two things ever get me going in the morning. A swim, then a coffee. And what with this new movie I’m working on…”

She heard the stress in his voice, though he had tried to disguise it.

“It’s not going well?”

He considered her question. “It could be going better. I’ve got a dictator for a director, and a co-star gunning for me to fail. It makes for a not so pleasant experience.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane replied automatically, as if this were something she often said.

“This is what it’s always like now. Still, it’s nothing compared to what you’re going through. Scummy actors, I know how to deal with. I wouldn’t have a clue what to do in your shoes.”

Jane shrugged her shoulders. “My problems don’t supersede yours.”

He studied her beneath dark lashes, his expression curious.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who thought that.”

“Maybe you should talk to some normal people for a change,” Jane replied. “Not me, of course. Someone who knows who they are.”

She softened her words with a smile that he echoed. That small change lit up her face and made her seem years lighter. It was nice.

He wished she would do it more.

Loki whined in his lap, fed up with being restrained. He was as dry as Logan could get him, so he let him go. The dog looked for something to amuse himself, then suddenly started chasing his tail. He went round and round until he caught it in his mouth, at which point, he froze, not sure what to do next.

They laughed as he started for them, still with his tail in his mouth.

Logan sniffed the air. “Do you want a coffee? I could do with one.”

Jane hadn’t set the coffee maker so the fact that the air was filled with the unmistakable rich aroma was surprising.

“Must have been Kitty,” Logan supplied. “The woman is a miracle worker. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Let me get you a cup,” Jane offered, heading into the kitchen.

He nodded, following her into the kitchen. Jane poured two steaming cups, only to find Logan staring at the remnants of those half eaten eggs lined up on the counter.

Her face grew hot, and she knew she had to explain herself.

“I wanted eggs yesterday, but I felt like Julia Roberts in that movie, the one where she didn’t know which kind she liked, so I made one of each variation I could think of.”

Her explanation sounded a little crazy, but his response surprised her.

“It wasn’t that she didn’t know what she liked, it was more that she made herself like whatever the current man in her life liked. What she needed was to discover who she was on her own without a man in order to be able to find the right one. And, as part of that process, she also had to learn how she liked her eggs cooked. The eggs were a metaphor,” Logan explained.

Jane didn’t immediately respond, surprised by the sensitive explanation. It seemed very insightful. Hands around her cup of coffee, she considered the man in front of her.

“I gather there hasn’t been any more news on your identity?” He asked, eyes flicking to the wounds on her arms. It was good to see how much they had already healed. A few more days and there would only be the scars left to deal with.

“Nothing yet. Summers seemed to think it isn’t that unusual in these kinds of cases. Said it takes longer to resolve these situations.”

“It must be difficult to know that someone has actually disappeared unless you live or work with them. I imagine there is a procedure to follow, and that it takes some time.”

She appreciated his effort to make her feel better, even if she couldn’t get her mind over it all.

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