Page 35 of Beacon

There’s a long moment when I’m really not sure what he’ll decide. But then he drops his eyes and mutters, “Stay with me.”

My heart does a silly bounce. “Really?”

“Yeah. Stay with me.”

That evening, I climb into my bed in the cabin, exhausted and relieved and strangely fluttery.

I don’t know what it means that Mack asked me to staywith him for the next six weeks. He never explained it, and I was too uncomfortable to ask. But clearly he doesn’t want to get rid of me. He no longer wants to remain completely alone. He might not be ready to rejoin the world, but he’s not in the same place he was last week.

It’s something. It’s a lot.

And I’ll take any opportunity I’m given to spend more time with him since there’s a good chance it will only be temporary.

When we reached the cabin, Mack went to bring in firewood because the evening is chilly. While he worked at getting the woodstove burning, I made a simple dinner of fried potatoes and sliced beef from the big hamper of food Greta Carlson prepared for us before we left the farm earlier.

We were quiet as we ate, and then I went to take a shower while Mack locked everything up for the night.

He’s in the shower now. I hear the water running. I hope he’s planning to join me in bed, but I don’t know for sure.

Everything feels different now. Maybe he’ll want some space.

I pull the covers up over my shoulders since I’m wearing a little blue nightgown I found in Chloe’s dresser. I wait, listening as the water turns off in the bathroom. Then there’s some moving around. Footsteps in the hallway.

I left the bedroom door half-closed, and Mack pushesit open all the way as he enters. He’s wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, and he drops it before he gets under the covers beside me.

With a thrill of relief and affection, I roll over to make room for him. He eases me onto my back and moves over me, his lower body pressing its weight into me. He props himself on one forearm and uses the other to span my neck and jaw with one of his hands.

“Hi,” I say, having no idea what else to say.

He gives a dry huff, his eyes warming slightly. “Hi.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He frowns, his eyes gently searching my face. “Because you broke up with me two years ago, and I thought that would mean you wouldn’t.”

I take a weird shuddering breath as nerves and excitement both flutter in my chest. “I… I don’t know. Things feel different now. I’m not sure why. I know everything is kind of in flux and nothing is… is decided. But right now, I want to be with you. As long as you want it too.”

“I’ve always wanted to be with you,” he murmurs. He’s still holding my head like it’s precious.

“I guess I…” I swallow hard but make myself finish the sentence. “I guess I’ve never really understood why.”

He’s doing that heavy breathing again—like there’s too much going on inside him, so much that it takes effort to contain it. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just that you’reyou. You can have anyone. Someone younger or prettier or stronger or sexier. Someone with a less complicated past. Someone who would never want to say no to you. For anything. For any reason. So why… why… did you never move on?”

He shakes his head like he’s really thinking about the answer. “I tried. I did. And honestly I’m not sure how or exactly when it happened. When we first met, I thought you were sweet and smart and pretty and stronger than you ever realized. I liked helping you.”

“I get that part. I was needy, and you have a hero complex.” When he starts to object, I go on. “Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true.”

“Okay, yeah. That was probably it at first. And when we started having sex on the way to get you to Maria that first time, I really thought it was just because we both needed some… some comfort.”

“That’s what I thought too. That’s what it was. So when did it change?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I just woke up one day and knew—Iknew—that you were my resting place.”

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