Page 23 of Moonlit Hideaway
Opening her eyes, she turned toward the left as the beam of the lighthouse arced over them.
“That was beautiful,” he said softly and moved to sit next to her. “What are you doing out here?”
She could think of a dozen snarky comebacks, but Hank wasn’t a city creeper out for a hustle. He genuinely wanted to know.
“I’m camping out here. Don’t think rain is in the forecast. Got my backpack for a pillow and my cardigan for a blanket. Too badmy barn coat’s gone, and all the bling. Guess we’ll see who stole my stuff at the next sock hop.”
“Come back to the inn,” he said. “I can’t let you sleep out here when we have beds unoccupied.”
“I can’t. I don’t have any money left, and I can’t take charity.” She kept her gaze fixed on the fading sunset as the sky darkened into dusk.
“I’m glad you stayed on the island.” He moved closer, and Sierra hated that she wanted those arms around her. Steady. Solid and too good to be true.
“Yeah, well, you were right. I’m likely to be outed anywhere I go. At least here, it takes a hop on the ferry for anyone to come check it out.”
“Who are you running from?” His tone, although gentle, was probing.
She didn’t dare glance into his eyes—knowing they saw through her.
“It’s personal. I’m not running from the law, or Sheriff Davis would have arrested me.”
“Must be pretty drastic to cut off from the world. Do you have a family? Friends who care about you?”
“Yes, Hank. I have friends. I miss my mom, but they’re of a different world. They won’t understand me dropping out like this.”
“Celebrities take breaks all the time,” he said. “The pressure of being in the spotlight must be great. The paparazzi, other people’s expectations, maintaining an image, and pleasing your fans.”
“I’m not pleasing them by canceling my tour.”
“You have to take care of yourself first.” He moved his hand but stopped before covering hers. “Come back to the inn, Jane.”
She noticed the emphasis on her assumed name.
“Has it leaked yet? What’s the gossip around town?”
“My mother had her bridge club over, and no one suspects. We’ll have to clue in Emma and Howie so they can help with the cover.”
“How’s Emma doing? I’m sure she was worried about the guitar lessons.”
“She was disappointed to see you gone and asked if it was because she bugged you too much.”
“Oh, no, that’s so untrue. She’s not the reason to stay away.”
“Then who?” He moved his face around to look her straight in the eye, and try as she might, she couldn’t avoid those flinty eyes. “Me?”
“Nothing is going on between us,” the words squeaked from her throat. “And nothing can ever happen.”
“Then, you have no reason to avoid the inn. I know your credit is good. You’re Sierra Rayne, and you won’t stiff a small-town innkeeper on a remote island.” He put on a casual attitude and shrugged. “You’ll be safe because I won’t make a move, and as for those nasty gossipers…”
“The hardware owner already thinks I’m some call girl you brought back from the mainland.”
The swish and rumble of the waves matched the pulsing in her head as Hank fell silent. She expected him to stand up and leave. Anger radiated from those muscles in waves as he tensed.
She hugged her knees, hating that she was already causing trouble for him. It was why she wanted to leave.
But she had nowhere else to go, so she let the waves and the wind lull her with its rhythmic beat, weaving a melody in her head. She could feel another song forming like a thread on a spool, and all she had to do was pull it out, letting the tune ebb and flow in spiral motions and her voice rising and falling with the relentless tide. Wishing and expanding, the frail lines drawn in the sand, of fluttering sea grasses and sandpipers flitting along the water’s edge.
And then she felt him—his warm body leaning over, and then his arms were around her, taking her into the circle of his protection, and she huddled in his embrace, letting the melody spin around them in that gentle evening breeze.
