Page 31 of Haven

I straighten up and hug my arms to my chest, giving the destroyed building one more desperate scan. The section in front of us is illuminated only by the headlights on the ATV. Everything else is in the dark.

Jackson is right. This is dangerous. We shouldn’t be here.

There’s nothing to find anyway.

My throat feels like it’s swelling to twice its size. I try to swallow over it.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” he murmurs roughly. “But can we please go now?”

I nod, completely wordless. We get into the ATV, and Jackson drives us away. We find a neighborhood nearby with quite a few houses in questionable condition. We look until we find one that appears stable and that has a garage where we can keep our vehicle out of sight.

Jackson breaks a window to get into the house. We have a quick, quiet dinner of pork jerky, tomatoes, and bread. We brought drinking water with us, but there’s no water here to wash with, so we just pee outside and then Jackson moves some furniture to barricade us in one of the bedrooms.

It’s not as safe as the farm where we have a wall and guards and booby traps. But it’s as secure as we can get while traveling. The area is completely deserted, and no one will know we’re here from looking outside. The only way anyone could find us would be accidentally.

I feel safe enough to climb under the sheets of the queen-sized bed—still made up neatly with a pretty quilt—wearing just my panties and tank top.

Jackson is still cleaning his rifle the way he does every night, using the light of an old lantern lit by a battery that’s supposed to last forever.

“You don’t have to sit up on guard all night,” I tell him after he’s finished and still hasn’t moved. “We’re pretty safe here. You might as well get some sleep.”

I both see and hear him let out a long breath. Then he stands up from the upholstered side chair where he was sitting and looks down on me in the bed, his familiar face shadowed in a way that makes it look unnervingly attractive. He really needs to shave. His hair is a mess. He’s even sweatier than I am.

He ran to the store and back so I wouldn’t be alone for too long.

For some reason, I think about Layne. How sweetly innocent she appeared. How Travis looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

I wondered what it would be like to be in that sort of relationship. To be in love like that. To have a baby with a man who wants no one in the world but you.

I’m not sweet or innocent. I’m not sure what I am anymore.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me in bed with you,” Jackson says at last, breaking me out of my reverie.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. I told you to come to bed.” I scoot over to make more room for him under the covers.

He’s still eyeing me—like he suspects I’m not telling the truth—as he pulls off his shoes, unhooks his belt, and pulls it off with his holstered weapons. Then he peels off his jeans. He’s got threadbare boxer briefs on underneath them, and he leaves them on as he takes off his T-shirt.

“Why are you still wearing your underwear?” I ask him—genuinely curious—as he climbs into bed beside me.

“Wasn’t sure you’d want the whole package tonight.” He rolls over to face me, his head propped up on one arm.

Despite my exhaustion—physical and emotional—or maybe because of it, I giggle at this.

His face softens almost imperceptibly as he watches me laugh. It makes my chest ache strangely.

“The whole package is just fine,” I tell him when I’ve settled.

“Is it?”

I nod, my heartbeat accelerating the way it always does when we’re this close.

He reaches out and very gently touches a strand of hair that’s fallen into my face. I never bothered to take most of it out of the ponytail I’ve been wearing all day. “I’d prefer it to be better than fine,” he says softly.

My breath hitches. “It’s better than fine,” I whisper.

“You mean it?” He moves closer, and the sight and scent of him overwhelm me.

“Yeah.” I lean forward and brush his mouth with mine. Oddly gentle. “I mean it.”

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