First Time in Forever (Puffin Island 1)

“I don’t like storms.”

“Plenty of people feel the same way.” His hand smoothed her spine, gentle and reassuring. “Rachel was the same, but don’t tell her I told you.”

“But she’s big and brave.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t like storms. Everyone is afraid of something.”

He’d used the same calm tone with her, Emily remembered. On the day of her meltdown, it had been his voice as much as his presence that had calmed her. When Ryan spoke, it was impossible to believe anything bad could happen, that the world could be anything other than a safe place.

Lizzy relaxed her hold on his shirt. “Are you afraid of storms?”

“Not storms, but there are plenty of other things that scare me.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated. “I don’t like hospitals. I don’t like the way they smell or sound. I’ll do just about anything to avoid going into one.”

Lizzy pondered. “But what if the doctor said you had to go to the hospital?”

“Then I’d go.” His hand stroked her hair. “Being afraid doesn’t mean you don’t do something, it just means it isn’t easy and you have to try a little harder than other people.”

“Aunt Emily?” Lizzy was looking at her. “What scares you?”

Loving and losing.

And she hadn’t faced that fear. Instead, she’d done everything she possibly could to live her life in a way that meant she could avoid it.

Emily stirred the sauce in a mindless, rhythmic movement that required no attention.

The only sound in the kitchen was the faint simmer of liquid and the heavy patter of rain against the window.

“Aunt Emily?”

“The sea,” she croaked. “Until today I was afraid of the sea. You have to let Ryan finish the story.”

His eyes fixed on hers, he carried on with the story, his tone and the words he used making it all too easy to picture Abbie’s struggle during that terrible storm.

As the rain sheeted down the windows, Emily found herself picturing the girl trying to keep the lamps burning in the lighthouse and take care of her three sisters and sick mother, while the sea boiled and lashed at her home.

Lizzy listened, absorbed. “What do you think Abbie was afraid of?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it was, she didn’t let it stop her keeping those lamps alight and protecting the shipping in that terrible storm.”

“I want to hear the part where she rescues the hens—”

He’d already told that part of the story, but Ryan repeated it, and Emily sent him a grateful look. There was something intimate about sharing a thought that came with no words, and her chest warmed as she turned back to her sauce. She could feel his eyes on her, feel him watching every movement as she stirred the sauce until it was smooth and perfect.

“I love the sound of the rain on the roof,” she said. “Close your eyes and listen.”

Lizzy closed her eyes. “It sounds like an army with heavy boots.”

Emily smiled. “It does.” She looked at Ryan. His jaw was dark with stubble, his hair curling slightly from the rain. She wanted so badly to touch it, to slide her fingers into it and drag his mouth down to hers as she had the night before. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with unspoken need, the silence eloquent. His smile was intimate and deeply personal, and her response to that smile was so powerful it was hard to breathe through it.

She’d never realized that not touching could be so arousing.

He must have felt the same way because he shifted slightly in his seat.

Lizzy opened her eyes and tightened her grip like a monkey. “I don’t want you to go.”