Page 17 of The Love Fix (The Sunrise Cove #8)

Okay, not angry. Not when she was this close to him, stirred by his closeness, and how that closeness made her... feel

things she didn’t want to feel.

No, that was a lie. She wanted to feel. She wanted to feel him . Far too much.

“You know,” he said softly, as if talking to a deer in the headlights—which she absolutely was. “We can either ignore this

thing between us, or we could talk about it, maybe even see where it goes.”

“There’s no thing.” She said it too quickly, she knew she did by the almost smile that crossed his mouth. “And even if there was... a thing... all evidence points to this being a bad idea.”

He nodded. “Because you aren’t attracted to me? Or because you’re leaving as soon as the envelopes are delivered? Or maybe...

maybe you’re afraid.”

She stared at his mouth and bit her lower lip. “It’s a twofold answer.”

His eyes lit with the humor she’d gotten accustomed to seeing. “Do tell.”

“I am leaving when the envelopes are delivered, but that doesn’t fall into play here, since I’m a terrible long-term bet anyway.”

“Agree to disagree about you being a terrible long-term bet,” he said. “What else?”

“As far as not being attracted to you...” She gave him a wry look. “You have mirrors in your house, right?”

He rolled his eyes for a change. “So we’re down to option number three. You’re afraid.”

Dammit. “Maybe.” She flopped to her back again. “We’ve tried this before. I kissed you. You were... horrified.”

“Not horrified.” He drew a deep breath. “Maybe... maybe just as scared as you.”

Her heart started to race. “The next time I came here, you were dating someone.”

He shrugged. “No law against that. And I had no idea you were coming, or I’d have warned you. It wasn’t anything deep, and

it didn’t last.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just stared up.

Night had consumed dusk. The stars she could see through the hole above astounded her with their brilliance.

So many, many stars, like diamonds on a blanket of black velvet.

“How did I forget how gorgeous the night skies are out here?” she whispered.

“You didn’t forget. You were ripped away—cruelly, in fact. I’m guessing you put all of it, good and bad, in a box and locked

the memories away.”

Uncomfortably right on the nose. “Do you ever think about that time when we were kids? When I was such a... brat?”

He was quiet a moment, and once again she turned her head to look at him, in profile now, as he was also looking up at the

stars. “When we were in school,” he finally said. “Competing with you, being challenged by you, I could be whoever I wanted

to be. And what I wanted to be was your friend. You were smart, and a smart-ass. You were brave and stubborn, and never backed

down. You weren’t a girlie girl—not that there’s anything wrong with being a girlie girl—but you didn’t care to put on any

sort of show. For anyone. You just wanted to be who you wanted to be. And I...” He took a deep breath, still not looking

at her. Maybe it was easier to talk if he didn’t. “I envied that,” he said. “I envied it so much, because in my house, I didn’t

get to be who I wanted to be. I had to be strong, fast, and smart as hell to keep my younger brother safe.”

Utterly drawn in by his words, by the emotion in his voice, by the feelings he’d revealed, she swallowed a sudden lump in

her throat. “I’m sorry. No kid should have to go through what you did.”

“Or you. And agreed. But all that was a long time ago, and we’ve both grown up. I admire who you grew up to be.”

Unbearably moved, she swallowed hard. “Right back at you.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, the several days’ worth of growth making a rough sound in the silence.

His wavy, sun-kissed brown hair had fallen over his forehead, and she entangled her fingers together so she wouldn’t accidentally reach out and brush it off his face.

Her heart hurt—burned, really—with fury.

For him. For his brother. “What about your mom? You don’t talk about her,” she asked softly.

“She died when I was ten.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing him as what she’d always thought had been a cocky, annoying boy who wanted to always

be in competition with her.

But in reality, that had been her. She’d been the annoying one who always started their fierce rivalry. She’d had some weird

obsession with being the best. No doubt, it’d been about needing attention, and when she’d gone east with her dad, she’d kept

it up. It’d been a pattern, contesting with the men in her life, none of whom had tended to like it. Including her dad.

She thought of how she’d spent so much of her life in survival mode, and now she knew Heath had done the same. Maybe by always

wanting to be in her orbit, he’d just been looking for an escape, or a friend. “I admire you as well,” she whispered. She

didn’t even realize she’d said the words out loud until she felt him shift. When she looked over, he’d propped his head up

on a hand.

“I hate that you were hurting too,” she said. “Sometimes I feel like all I’ve done is fail. Fail the people I care about,

and fail myself.”

“Lex.” A big, warm hand reached out and gently cupped her jaw. “You never failed me. In fact, there were some days where trying

to beat you at whatever we were doing was all I had.” He gave her a small smile, and she managed one in return.

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She realized he’d never once asked her to cool it, back down, or give up. Actually, in hindsight, even now, he always seemed to take great pleasure when she’d make him work for it. When she showed him her unapologetic true self.

“What else?” he asked, watching her quietly.

“I didn’t get Margo to keep her envelope.”

“That’s not all on you, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to get her to keep it,” he said with utter confidence. In her.

Certainly more than she’d ever had in herself.

“Is this about Ashley?” he asked. “Is being here bringing back memories of how she got to stay and live with Daisy when you

didn’t?”

She turned her head to stare out at the stars again.

“No one would blame you for those feelings, Lex. No one. Not even Ashley.”

How had he hit a nerve, when she’d thought she’d hidden them all? A memory came to her then, an early call with Daisy shortly

after she’d moved east. Daisy had asked to speak to her dad, and she’d overheard him tell Daisy how difficult Lexi was and

how he had no idea how to love her.

She felt the weight of Heath’s gaze and turned to look at him. There was something in his expression that assured her he wasn’t

judging her. That he genuinely wanted to understand. So she swallowed hard and drew a deep breath for courage. “What’s hard

is hearing how everyone idolized Daisy, when I never got to see that side of her. She flaked on me so many times, usually

when I needed her the most. But then I hear all these stories from perfect strangers who loved her, and I can’t... I can’t

reconcile who that woman is with the woman I knew.” She sucked in a breath. “I know my dad was right, that I was difficult.

I can’t imagine why he wanted me to go with him.”

“You were the child, not your parents. And all children are difficult. They’re still to be protected, at all costs.

Maybe your dad thought you’d be better off with him, maybe he didn’t realize what you were going through.

Which is not an excuse. He should have known.

” He paused, and she knew he was giving thought to what she’d said, taking her seriously.

“I think Daisy had a lot of regrets and heartache over her failures when it came to her relationship with you. Her failures, Lexi. Not yours. No matter what you said to her, or how you asked her to stay away.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

Reaching out, he took her hand in his, squeezing gently. She could feel calluses on his palms and the rough pads of his fingers,

and she wondered how he’d gotten them.

“A kid can only take so much rejection from a parent who never actually showed up.”

She drew a shaky breath. She’d never actually spoken to anyone about this. Whenever she and Ashley had tried, it ended in

awkwardly hurt feelings. Her dad had never wanted to hear about Daisy at all. And as recently as an hour ago, she’d have said

there was no way she’d have a conversation with Heath about her either, mostly because it was obvious they’d been close, very

close, and he wouldn’t want to hear anything negative about her.

“I’m sorry about everything that happened to you,” Heath said, gently squeezing her fingers. “No kid should go through that.”

It took her a moment to gather herself, because for some reason, his words touched a spot deep in her chest that she’d not

accessed in a long time. “Right back at you.” It helped that they weren’t looking at each other. In fact, she’d closed her

eyes, which made it easier to say things she’d normally never say out loud. “Maybe it made us who we are, for better or worse.”

He bumped a broad shoulder to hers. “For what it’s worth, you’re not so bad.”

And there, in the dark, out of time and place, she smiled. “A compliment. Wow. You better be careful or I’ll start to think

you’ve gone soft.”

“I’ve given you plenty of compliments,” he said. “I told you only a few minutes ago how smart you are.”

“Smart and a smart-ass,” she reminded him.

“Smart-ass is also a compliment.”

That made her laugh, even as that spot in her chest warmed further. “You didn’t grow up to be who I thought you would.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m not so bad either?”

She smiled. “Maybe.” Opening her eyes and turning her head to his, she found him studying her face. “What?”

Those blue gray eyes pulled in the moon and starlight, nearly glowing. Not cold, but warm. Amused. Affectionate... “I like

when you glare at me, but I love your smile. Your laugh.” He shook his head as if marveling. “They’re contagious.”

A matching affection spread through her, but she gave him an eye roll. “You like when I glare at you?” she repeated in disbelief.

“I like when you call me out on my shit.”

His voice was husky and seductive, and wove through every nerve ending in her body, but she found a laugh. “You need help.”

“No doubt. You’ve stopped shivering.”

She had, clearly thanks to the delicious body heat he put out, not to mention how she felt with him. Fear and anxiety seemed

to vanish. She’d even forgotten to worry about the wild animals watching and waiting for their chance to have her for dinner.

Something about Heath made her feel stronger, secure, and something else, something completely alien.

Safe.

And given the unexpected heat and carefully banked desire in those blue gray eyes, maybe also... wanted.

Dangerous. He was dangerous as hell, to both her heart and soul, and she should probably try to remember that, but in the

moment, she couldn’t.