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Most of her experiences with men were in the disgusting and abhorrent way they treated the women in the village. Though she realized there were alternative examples of men offering their respect and regard. Mr. Uraiahs with Auri, for one. Horance. Trevis. Mr. Cobble. Her father and brother. There were good men, she supposed. Even Ollie, whose unwillingness to tell her the whole truth appeared to be less about dishonesty to her than it was about something circumstantial regarding his own life.

She watched the constellations above, the shadows of clouds drifting past, and thought of Auri. Watching her with Nix in the booth at The Copper Pot weeks ago had stabbed Tarley with a sense of longing. And suddenly she understood the ache in her chest for what it was: loneliness.

She was always alone even when she was surrounded.

She couldn’t look at it.

So she mentally turned away and ignored it.

She would return to Sevens and resume what had been in her life before this adventure. Before Ollie. And he would move toward whatever it was he was seeking. She refused to let the sadness to enter, adding another lock to the door.

She yawned and watched the stars twinkling in the velvet sky above, her denying the emptiness that careened around inside of her, and eventually succumbed to sleep.

“Tarley?”

She blinked her eyes open, dizzy with sleep, and shivered.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

She shivered again. “I didn’t want to kiss Ollie.”

“Help me,” the voice said. She recognized the tone, found comfort in it, but couldn’t get her cold mind to reconnect to its identity. “I can’t carry you,” the voice said. Strong arms wrapped around her. “Did you want to? Kiss Ollie?”

She got to her feet and hummed an affirmation, her arms wrapped around the shadow’s shoulders. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “He won’t kiss you if you don’t want him to.”

“Because he doesn’t want to?” she asked, ducking into the dark tent.

“Oh, he does,” the shadow said, and helped her lie down, sliding into the bed behind her and pulling her tightly against him. “Let’s warm you up.”

She shivered again and the shadow’s arms tightened around her.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I promise.”

With that, she slid easily back into a deep, comfortable, and warm sleep.

When her eyes opened again, the blue twilight of the morning hinted the sun was coming soon. A sharp wind yanked at the fabric overhead as the drumbeat of rain tapped against the taut linen, dripping down the outside of the tent in streaks.

A hard, warm form was pressed against her backside, and when she moved, the arms banded around her tightened.

“Not yet,” Ollie said, his voice deep with sleep. Alluring. She felt it in the heat of her lower belly. “It’s raining, and you’re dry and warm. Here. With me.”

She wanted to fight him on it. She wanted to jump to her feet and direct them toward a hike back to Sevens. To put distance between what would protect her and what she was realizing she wanted. Badly. And she rationalized the weather would make it muddy and slow, and with Ollie recovering, he needed another day.

She relaxed. Leaving the warmth of his arms, of this bed, wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to lie here and imagine that the man holding her was her lover. And she wanted to understand the feelings pulsing through her like those twinkling stars she’d consulted the night before.

A little while longer.

“Did I fall asleep outside?” she asked.

He hummed an affirmation.

She felt that sound between her legs and pressed her thighs together.

“How did I get back in?”

“I came and got you. I woke up and you were gone.”