Page 91 of Resisting Isaac

Isaac stops dead in his tracks. “Well, that’s new.”

“What?”

“He’s not usually friendly with anyone but me. They’ve both been around more cattle than humans most of their lives so they’re not always great with people, unless they’re herding you somewhere.”

The one he called Blue circles once, then flops at my feet with a huff.

“Maybe they recognize an alpha when they see one,” I say.

“Clearly.” He squints at me like I’ve just solved a puzzle he didn’t even realize he’d been working on. “I’d make a joke about you smelling like beef jerky or something,” he says, “but I’m too surprised to come up with a punchline.”

“Surprises seem to be our thing lately.” I reach down to scratch each dog behind the ears. “Hi, boys. Don’t worry. I don’t like most people either.”

When I glance up again, Isaac’s watching me intently.

And for some reason, that rattles me more than the dogs do.

“Come on in,” he says, jerking his chin toward the house. “Food is almost ready. I ordered chicken and pasta from The Stillery. All sauces on the side, no bacon. Hopefully nothing too heavy. But if you hate it, I can go get something else.”

He would too. Run right out and try to make me happy. I don’t know if I want to kiss him or cry.

“I’m sure it’s fine. Smells good.”

“We could eat on the porch. Plenty of fresh air.”

I wrinkle my nose. “And closer to the flowerbed if I yack my food up again.”

“That too.” He lets out a soft chuckle then leads me through the kitchen—masculine but not messy, the kind of space that tells you the person who lives here actually lives here—and out through the back doors.

And that’s when I see it.

A wide, covered back porch with big, cushioned chairs, hanging plants, flowers lining the water, and a view of the river that makes my breath catch.

“Oh wow. It’s like a painting out here.”

“Sit,” he says gently, tugging me toward one of the chairs. “I’ll grab you something to drink. Water? Tea? Can you have wine or soda? I don’t even know. I’m sorry.”

“Water is fine.”

I watch him disappear into the house, then glance down at Blue and Rowdy, who’ve flanked me, resting at my feet like I’m their new queen.

“Okay, boys,” I whisper. “If I can’t stomach this food, I’m sneaking it to you under the table.”

The wind moves through the trees. Sunlight glitters off the surface of the water just beyond the edge of the yard.

And for the first time, I let myself wonder if maybe being knocked up by Isaac Logan might not be so bad.

When the foodis long gone, even the cookies he snagged from Laurel for dessert, the porch lights shining against the day’s descent into twilight, casting a glow around Isaac as he leans back in the chair across from me.

Of course he’s lit up even in darkness. He’s sunshine in human form.

I’ve never seen anyone so full of light. I find it both intriguing and terrifying.

I don’t know if it was the poverty, my dad’s never-ending health struggles, the despair of the struggling people in my community or just something inside me—but I’ve always felt like darkness filled every crevice in my soul, always looming and threatening to poison everyone around me.

“So, about our new development,” he says quietly, leaning forward now to clasp a hand on my ankle, anchoring me to him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. And for the record, I don’t want or needanything from you.” The words come out harsher than I mean for them to.