Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)

“I’m not afraid, but I think you are. I think you’re afraid to let anyone close because that gives them the power to hurt you. But I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

Sounds of laughter floated towards them on the breeze and she realized there were people on the far side of the beach.

Zach closed his hand around her wrist and for a moment she thought he was going to push her away.

For a breath-stealing moment they stood there, locked together.

Then he led her into the cabin and kicked the door shut behind them.

ZACH HAD SPENT every moment of the past few days trying not to think about her. When he did, he spent the time listing a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea.

In the end he’d resorted to hard physical exercise in an attempt to relieve the simmering sexual tension that blocked any hope of rest or peace.

And now here she was, in his cabin, with a smile on her lips and promise in her eyes.

All he had to do was take what she was offering.

The selfish side of him, th

e side that allowed him to focus on his own needs to the exclusion of others, the side that had developed from a need to survive, just wanted to ease the ache in the most basic way known to man and to hell with the consequences. Any consequences would be hers, not his. If she wanted to play with fire, why not hand her the match?

But he couldn’t.

And deep down he knew she was right. It wasn’t about her, it was about him.

He was afraid. Not of being hurt, but of discovering that even with Brittany, he still couldn’t feel.

That one brief occasion in her cottage had been easy enough to discount. It had been all about hot sex and nothing else. But this—this was different.

“Why are you here?” Forming the words felt difficult because life had taught him to greedily snatch the good moments wherever you could find them. And one of them was standing right in front of him. “You need to leave right now.” Before the bad side of him overwhelmed the small part of him that was decent.

“I’m not leaving, Zach.” Her voice was a smoky, soft invitation and he clenched his jaw and kept his hands by his sides.

“You don’t want to do this.”

Her eyes were clear and honest. “Why don’t you let me worry about my feelings and you worry about yours?”

“I don’t have feelings.” His voice sounded strange. Thickened. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t feel anything. I never do.” He didn’t understand why she didn’t see the danger, the futility, of getting involved with him again.

“I know.” Her hand came up to his face and she touched him gently, soothingly, which didn’t make sense to him because he knew that if she had any sense she would be backing away.

The window was open and he could smell the scents of late summer and the salty air. He could hear the rhythmic rush of the sea and the call of the gulls.

He could hear the beating of his heart and feel the throb of blood in his veins.

“And knowing that, you still want this?”

She nodded. “I think you should stop worrying about not feeling and just be with me. It’s just us, Zach. We’ve done this before.”

But before he’d only ever cared about pleasing himself and his partner.

He’d never wanted anything more.

Now, for the first time in his life, he resented the hollow emptiness inside him that had kept him safe for so long.

He wanted to fill it with her, he wanted to warm himself on her and thaw out the ice-cold center that had somehow become part of who he was.

He wanted to feel.