She craned her neck, looking over the cliff. She shrugged and hugged her knees closer. “I’m used to being close to the edge, Dylan. It’s fine.”
Her words made me shiver and my chest feel odd. I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about the rocks.
“Please, Alex.”
With a sigh, she took my hand, letting me pull her up. In my haste, I pulled her too fast, and she stumbled. My arms shot out, grabbing her, pulling her tight to my chest. I held her close, feeling her heart beating wildly against my skin. Mine was racing as well.
I stepped well back from the rocks, dragging her with me, not letting her go. I fisted my hands in her wet hair, tugging the strands so her head lifted. “Are you all right?”
She blinked. “I’m fine.”
“Why are you sitting out here alone? Why are you crying?”
“I’m fine. It’s the wind—my eyes were watering.”
I didn’t believe that for a second.
“I want to help.”
“You can’t.”
“I want to make you smile.”
To my horror, more tears filled her eyes, spilling over and down her cheeks.
“Tell me,” I begged, a feeling of desperate helplessness running through my body. “Let me fix it.”
“Fix it?”
“Yes.” I wanted to tell her I’d fix anything that made her sad.
“But you’re the cause, Dylan,” she stated quietly.
“What?”
“You’re buying the inn and the land. It’s my home. The only one I know. The only one my children know. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m losing my home, George is leaving us, and I don’t know what my future holds.”
“Alex, I . . .”
She shook her head. “I know if it’s not you, it will be someone else. I know George has to sell. My head knows this . . . But my heart”—she closed her eyes—“my heart hurts.”
I touched my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry.”
“Ignore me, Dylan. I simply needed to come here and think a little. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Her words sliced through my chest. Bending down, I cupped her cheek and pressed my mouth to her lips. Her hand grabbed my wrist, and I wound my other hand around her waist, tugging her close again. Time—the world—ceased to exist. All that was real, all that mattered, was how she felt, how she tasted. All that mattered was that moment.
Until she pulled away.
Tears clung to her lashes as she smiled bravely. “Take care of the land, Dylan. This is a special place.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“I’ll send your dinner up to your room about seven.”
“That’s fine.”
“A storm is coming, so the inn will be pretty quiet. I need to go and make sure everything is done and secured, so I can send the staff home.”