Page 78 of The Lightkeeper

“Lou…” Kit reached for his sister’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

I turned to give them a moment, pretending to thoroughly examine the blank wall.

“Yeah.” I heard her small voice. “Just nervous. The gallery show isn’t for another two weeks. What if it gets sold by then? What if I don’t have time to place an offer?”

“Hey,” he chided. “These things take time. You think they’re going to take photos of the inn as it is? The yard overgrown with weeds? The one sconce hanging askew? Not a chance. If this guy wants to unload it, he’s going to make sure it’s marginally presentable before taking those photos.”

Lou didn’t reply at first because Kit made a good point. Especially since this new owner was looking for a bigger return on the asset than his half brother had gotten when he’d “sold” it to Ailene and George.

“I’m afraid,” Lou said softly. “What if I lose it?”

“I might not know a lot, but I know things happen for a reason. If you don’t get the inn, you’ll find something else—something better,” he assured her.

“Really?”

“Promise.”

“I wish I could be as brave as you,” she said with a wistful laugh.

“Even the brave were once afraid.”

My breath caught, and when I turned, Lou was heading for the back desk and her phone, and Kit was right in front of me.

“We should go,” he said lowly. “I want to stop at Jamie’s shopto pick up the frames he finished for these so Lou doesn’t have to, and then I want to get you home.”

Home.

Before he could hear—or read too deeply—into the catch of my breath, I said, “But we didn’t finish?—”

“The only thing that’s getting finished right now is you finishing yourself off on my cock,” he growled. “So, that can happen here, but the kind of questions it’s going to draw are going to be much more than interesting.”

My jaw slackened, and then I squeaked, “Okay, let’s go.”

We stopped at his brother’s woodshop, taking a grand tour of the massive barn and all the projects Jamie was working on before Kit finally took hold of the five new frames for his drawings.

I almost suggested that we could stop and see his mom on our way back, but the second we were back in the truck, his delicious fingers reached over the console and began teasing me through my bright blue pants in the truck.

I was panting heavily by the time he pulled up to the house and parked, and I’d just made it out of the truck when my phone vibrated.

“It’s my dad,” I said, biting my lip with an apologetic look as I mouthed “one minute.” I swiped to answer, watching Kit head inside. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, is this Miss Aurora Cross?”

I tensed, my stomach dropping like a stone. “Yes, speaking?”

“Hi, Miss Cross. This is Dr. Fucarile at Mass General. I’m calling because we have your father here. He’s okay—stable, but he’s had a massive heart attack.”

A cry pierced my lips, and I sank to the rocky ground.

I didn’t remember falling to my knees. I didn’t remember Kit coming back outside and lifting me. But those things must’ve happened because suddenly, I was inside the house, held tight to Kit’s chest, the knees of my pants stained with dirt.

He carried me into the bedroom and set me on the mattress. It wasn’t until he kneeled in front of me and cupped my face that I realized I was crying and shaking.

“What happened?”

“My dad had a heart attack.”

“Jesus—”

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