Chapter 2

Marlene

Friday 4.47pm

By the time I’ve shown him the bottom level of the lighthouse, dark clouds have all but blotted out the sky and the rain is coming down in buckets, hammering the roof.

He’s asking a lot of questions, none about the emails, so I answer him with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

His presence is wearing me out. It’s exhausting trying to pretend I’m okay knowing some psycho is out there fantasizing about me.

I know it’s my pride doing the thinking but I hate the idea of him reporting to Kurt.

I’m so tangled up in my thoughts, I turn and nearly walk right into him. He steps back, a frown on his face as he places a hand on the handrail to the stairs that lead to the lighthouse tower. “What’s upstairs?”

I narrow my eyes. “None of your business.”

His eyebrow rises. “Fine. Let’s talk security then. You have a private property sign up and a no trespassing warning. But you must still get the occasional visitor?”

I shake my head. “Not so far. This is a tiny lighthouse, not exactly a tourist attraction.”

Sawyer leans against the railing and exhales. “Yeah, but from a security point of view, this place is a nightmare. You have multiple access points with almost zero visibility. Please tell me you have a weapon?”

I frown back at him and try for a shrug. “Of course,” I lie.

He doesn’t seem convinced, so I clear my throat. “Anyway, I haven’t changed my mind, I should have changed my email address and canceled the PO Box address before now. The only reason I didn’t was that I share it with Kurt…”

Since I don’t want to talk about the messy non-ending Kurt and I shared, I just stare at him unblinking, holding my ground, hoping he’ll just leave before the weather gets worse.

But he doesn’t shift and his gaze stays locked on me. “Right. Sure, you can do that, you can cancel both, start new ones. But you’ll keep striking this if you don’t start protecting your privacy.”

My face twists into an irritated scowl. But he has a fair point. And if it gets him to leave, maybe him poking around in my online life is better than having him poking around too much in my real life?

Sawyer glances out the window. “This place has electricity?”

I nod vaguely. “The cottage has its own electricity supply. But not the lighthouse.”

He doesn’t reply, I can almost feel the multiple questions he has about why I’d choose to live like this, but I’m too busy wondering how bad the weather is going to get.

Even inside the lighthouse, I can hear the wind gusts and a tiny spark of worry overrides my annoyance at his continued presence.

Despite my bravado, and despite being used to roughing it, I have no idea of how bad it might get inside if a hurricane really does hit the coast.

The cottage is sturdy, and the lighthouse will buffer a lot of what will come, but with my darkroom and all my film and equipment inside, it’s a worry.

Shivers run down my back as we walk down the short hallway that connects the lighthouse to the cottage.

“This is a new addition? I thought outbuildings were separate from the lighthouse?” he asks.

I follow his gaze and see him looking upwards. “They added it on after it was decommissioned.”

I don’t add that it’s not seen a storm yet and that the engineer who checked everything out for me when I purchased, mentioned it needed repairing and may not survive heavy winds.

Sawyer is right behind me when I take a seat inside my tiny kitchen. I glance at my laptop. “Where are you staying?” I ask him.

He leans on the counter and glances out the window. “I booked the motel on the harbor for the weekend.”

I frown at him. He was planning on staying all weekend? Just to investigate a few emails and a letter?

He aims a look at the portable radio on top of the refrigerator. “Mind if I switch that on? I’d like to see if this weather is planning on leaving before I have to.”

I start to nod when the roof rattles noisily above us and a siren is audible even over the driving rain and the relentless wind.

“Shit,” I spit.

Sawyer meets my gaze and his entire body goes rigid. “That’s the hurricane siren? I’m not going—"

The wind shrieks so loudly his voice is drowned out. Sawyer steps closer to me, his forehead creased in a deep frown. “I’m not going anywhere, and we need to get away from the windows,” he shouts.

Hail starts to pummel the roof, making it impossible to speak. He opens his mouth to shout at precisely the moment a horrendous crash comes from further inside the cottage.

My camera!

I spin around and run towards the sound of air shrieking towards me.

A tree has been thrown into the now cracked windowpane in the living room. Hail and wind are pouring inside.

The wind is roaring through the room, tossing my hair around my face blinding me as I try to grab the strap attached to my camera.

My fingers curl around the leather, just as the windowpane explodes showering the living room with glass.

Over the sound of the wind and rain, I hear Sawyer call my name. His eyes are wild as he grabs my arm and drags me out of the room.

He pulls the door closed and just as another gust of wind makes the entire cottage shake. “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts.

I lift my camera in shaky hands and shout back at him. “I had to get this.”

He shakes his head at me as the door rattles noisily behind me. But considering he’s got my laptop under his arm, he’s done the same thing I have.

He doesn’t say anything else as his fingers curl around my upper arm.

I let him tug me away from the cottage, towards the only place built to withstand the full force of a hurricane.

The lighthouse.

***

Sawyer

The roof of the flimsy connection is making groaning sounds as we run towards the lighthouse door.

Over the wind, I hear a crack and the sound of wood splintering just as Marlene steps inside the base of the lighthouse.

I look back and pull the door shut as pieces of wood start to tear off and fly around.

With the door shut, there’s barely enough light to see. “Up the stairs,” Marlene says.

I scramble up the narrow stairs, tucking her laptop under my arm as I follow her up.

I’m winded and catching my breath when I find myself staring at an unmade California king. I straighten and I immediately see why she didn’t want to tell me what was up here.

She’s turned what used to be the viewing room below the lantern at the top into her bedroom. There’s literally nothing up here but her bed and her bedroom furniture.

Tiny lights have been strung up from the ceiling and hang down the walls giving the appearance of stars.

A full-length mirror is beside a table with perfume, makeup, hairbrush and a dozen photos of people.

Candles are scattered on every surface. A bookcase lines one curving wall and is jammed full of paperbacks.

A radio sits on top, with a flashlight, a bottle of tequila, film canisters and a few open bags of snacks.

After promising I wouldn’t invade her privacy any more than I had to, we’re holed up in her bedroom of all places.

From the looks of it, she spends a lot of time up here. And I don’t blame her, the view is incredible, and if I lived here, I’d have done the same.

She’s standing at the window, camera in her hand and aiming out the window when I think to make sure it’s safe. “The glass is reinforced?”

The sea is almost solid white as I look past the hail continuing to fall heavily. She doesn’t look at me, too focused on taking photos as I come alongside her.

I place the laptop down on a chair as she answers. “The Coast Guard replaced the glass in the gallery.”

Marlene snorts and drops the camera. “Guess they should have replaced the cottage windows too. I damn well hope my darkroom is okay.”

She blows out a sigh, places the camera on a chair and sends me a wry look. “Bet you’re regretting doing this for Kurt now huh?”

I almost laugh. I’m stuck inside a historic lighthouse with a beautiful woman and she thinks I have regrets?

I keep my eyes on the water outside the window. “I have a lot of regrets but coming out here to try to help you isn’t one of them.”

“That’s sweet,” she says.

I turn ready to say I wasn’t trying to be sweet when she smiles and I forget I’m supposed to be working.

I force an edge to my voice. “Sweet won’t get this problem solved for you. You answering my questions will.”

Marlene huffs out a long sigh as her gaze travels back to the stormy seas outside. “I know. I’m just not good at…”

She doesn’t need to finish. I know what she isn’t saying. It’s how I’d feel if the roles were reversed.

She’s vulnerable. Exposed. And for the dumbest reason, I don’t want her to feel that way.

I shift my weight and have to talk over the wind so I’m sure she hears. “Why don’t we do this old school style?”

Her eyebrows rise and an uncertain smile flickers at her lips. “Old school?”

I smile back at her. “Yeah. I’ll make it easy on you. We can play twenty questions. All you have to do is answer yes or no.”

Her eyes pop before a teasing smile appears. “Or, I answer your questions but you have to answer mine.”

I shake my head, ready to say that won’t work when she glares at me. “I need to be able to trust you.”

I swallow hard. I have absolutely no come back. Trust is essential.

I can only hope I can earn her trust without revealing parts of my life I can’t afford to.

She extends her hand. “Do we have a deal?”

With a growl and a glare back at her, I shake her hand for the second time today.

Only this time, an overwhelming desire to keep touching her makes me delay releasing her hand for way too long. “We have a tentative deal.”

Her lips quirk but she doesn’t jerk her hand away from mine. “I’ll get the tequila,” she says.

Given the smug look on her face as she pulls her hand from mine, I just agreed to something that is likely going to backfire.

Trouble is, I’m enjoying being around her too much to give a shit about stepping on Kurt’s toes or encroaching on a woman he still cares about right now.

Aside from the part about the emails and the letter, this is basically the best weekend getaway I could ever have hoped for.

***

Marlene

I’m not sure if he’s trying to put me at ease or throw me off guard, but when he takes a seat on one of the chairs and drags it closer so we don’t have to shout, his first question is an obvious one. “How’d you get the furniture up here?”

I snort a laugh through my nose. “I assembled it. The mattress was the only thing that didn’t come in pieces. I had to ask for help to get it up here. But it was worth it. On a clear night I can see the stars. And lightning looks incredible from up here. I have some great photos.”

He smiles but there’s something fake about it. And I soon find out why. “Who helped you move things in here?”

I sigh. I should have known there was calculation behind his question. “Kyle Landers. He’s the owner-operator of the convenience store.”

His brow knits. “You know him well?”

I shake my head and reach for the tequila. Even though I hate to admit it, it’s nicer than I expected having someone up here with me.

“Not really. I met him through the realtor. His family founded this town. Do I get to ask a question now?”

I unscrew the bottle and take a swig before he answers. The alcohol burns but doesn’t dent the worry that matches the hurricane building outside.

Having him here is at least a distraction. Even if he’s an old friend of Kurt’s and even if he’s reminding me of how long it’s been since I had a man in my bedroom.

I pass him the bottle, and he accepts, eyes locked on mine as he takes a swig. He licks his lip and an unexpected jolt travels down my body.

Oh, hell no. I am not attracted to him. I can’t be. That’s the last thing I need. To start lusting after the man sent to help me.

He scratches his chin and reaches out to hand me the bottle back.

His fingers brush against mine sending shivers up my arm. His eyes are fixed on me as I pull back so I can take a larger swig, hoping it’ll calm my nerves.

My hands are shaking, though I’m no longer sure it’s the weather and the damage being done to my cottage, it’s him. It’s his nearness, his maleness, the way he’s making me think about him in ways I shouldn’t.

He tilts his head, looking at me expectantly. “What do you want to know?”

Everything. Nothing. What you look like naked. “Um, tell me about your job.”

He stares at me and frowns before he reaches for the bottle. “That’s not a question.”

Ridiculous heat brushes my cheeks. Since when did I let a man affect me like this?

Never. That’s when. I’ve never gotten flustered around good looking men.

Maybe it’s the hurricane, maybe it’s the fact I can’t have him, maybe it’s the way he grabbed me, maybe it’s the tequila, but he’s growing more damn attractive with each second I look at him.

Either I’m just horny, or I actually like this guy. Either way, being trapped in my bedroom when I’m feeling more fragile than usual, could lead somewhere it probably shouldn’t.

I need to pull myself together. If he’s close with Kurt, he’ll be reporting everything I say and do.

I narrow my eyes and try to prise out what he’s been reluctant to share. “What’s your job description?”

He shifts in his chair. “I work in security.”

I scowl at him, more to convey my annoyance he’s being so cagey. “That’s not a job description.”

He shrugs and looks over my shoulder. “I’ll put the radio back on. We should stay up to date on the weather.”

Sawyer is out of his chair and across the room before I can blink.

I huff out a cross between a growl and a sigh and get up to light the oil lantern I keep up here.

The fairy lights I hung are powered by batteries so they should provide a little light.

Unfortunately, it only adds to the romantic atmosphere I absolutely can’t encourage.

I could switch them off, but with the daylight almost gone, and the lights attached to the stairwell, we won’t be able to see the stairs if and when we can go back downstairs again.

I have no idea if the connection to the cottage is still there. From the split second I had to check, I’m pretty sure the engineer was right to warn me to get it strengthened.

If the covered walkway is gone, then even attempting to walk across the ten feet to the cottage in a hurricane would be worse than stupid.

So, now I’m stuck in my bedroom with a man who expects me to open up to him, without giving any part of himself back in return.

It’s bad enough the first man I’ve shown any interest in is friends with my ex, does he have to be sex on legs too?

The radio static penetrates my unruly thoughts reminding me that he’s only here with me because Kurt asked him to be. And while he says he doesn’t regret getting stuck here, it’s probably the last place he’d choose to be.

Sawyer’s just doing his job...whatever the hell that is.

He turns the volume up and I catch the last of the weather report.

—winds up to 95 miles per hour being recorded. Currently being reported as a category 1. A high surf warning has been issued for Lander’s Island with waves up to 15 to 20 feet. Vehicles are being urged to stay off the roads. So, batten down those hatches and stay indoors until further notice—

He switches the station off and sends me an indecipherable look. “So, your camera is worth risking your neck then?”

I pull a face at him. “You grabbed my laptop so you could keep doing your job. This camera is my job.”

His lips twitch as he glances at my beat-up Dell on the chair. Since it’s my turn, I ask another question. “Do you like what you do for a living?”

A wry smile appears as he stalks across the room and retakes his seat.

He leans forward and takes the bottle from my hands. “Parts of it,” he says, then takes a swig.

I keep my eyes on him as he removes his leather jacket. All my muscles tense at the sight of his tanned arms and biceps.

His t-shirt is tight and clinging to his torso, highlighting just how much muscle he was hiding.

Heat rises to my skin as he runs his hand through his shaggy hair. “My turn. Do you have any enemies? Jealous rivals? Competitors?”

The question makes a stone drop to my toes. But I answer as truthfully as I can. “Not that I know of. My question.”

I sit back, feeling my head swim a little. “What don’t you like about your job?”

His eyebrow rises as he works his jaw. “Seeing people at their worst. Anyone you ever turned down romantically? Rejected?”

That was precisely the kind of question I was hoping to avoid. “A few. Mostly before I met Kurt. What do you like about your job?”

He leans down to grab his jacket and pulls out a notepad and pen. “Write down the names. And I like solving puzzles.”

I take the notepad and leave it sitting on my thigh. “How did you get your job?”

He eyes me, his lips twitching as he comes up with a response I don’t anticipate. “I can’t tell you that. Ask another question.”

I dip my chin and pick up the pen he brought and tap it on my leg. “How did you meet Kurt?”

He seems relieved it’s not job-related and gives me a half-smile. “Vegas. I snuck off when my parents weren’t looking and was in the process of getting my ass kicked. Kurt stepped in.”

My lip catches in my teeth as I hide my mirth. “Then what happened?”

If he notices he was due a question, he doesn’t seem to mind as he reaches for the bottle. “We both ended up taking a beating, but he covered for me when the cops arrived. That’s two questions you owe me.”

Damn. I blink, feigning innocence as he hands me the bottle. He pauses and for a minute I think he’s going to ask me something about my job, but he’s back to my dating history. “You ever dump someone and then have them keep contacting you?”

I scrunch up my forehead. “No. My breakups have always been amicable.”

Sawyer doesn’t miss a beat. “Even Kurt?”

My breath stills in my lungs. “That’s…complicated.”

I take a drink as heat rushes through my body. He shifts closer, perching on his seat so our knees are touching. “Complicated how?”

I swallow, pulse rapid as I unravel my thoughts and try to focus. But he’s looking into my eyes and I’m losing more than my thoughts. “He wanted to continue being in the thick of the action, I didn’t. We just drifted apart...”

Sawyer’s forehead knits into a deep frown. “That’s not how he tells it.”

I frown at him. “Oh? How does he tell it?”

If he was going to explain, he seems to check himself and his formal manner returns in a flash. “Complicated means messy. Messy means relationships and feelings aren’t nicely tied up. That’s what I’m looking for. Someone with motive. Someone who wants to either get back at you or get you back in their lives.”

I don’t want to think about someone with motive. I don’t want to think about someone out there obsessing about me enough to send dirty letters through the mail.

I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to forget about it. Trying to forget all the horror stories I’ve heard about stalkers, and just try to get on with things as best as I can.

Now Sawyer’s here and demanding I dump the contents of my life in his lap. Well, two can play at that game.

“How often do you talk to Kurt? He never mentioned you,” I say.

His face twists into a scowl. “I haven’t spoken to Kurt in a while.”

Since this is news to me, my curiosity ramps up even further. “You must have owed him big to come all this way to help me then?”

He snatches up the bottle and guzzles. He swipes his mouth and looks aggravated when he near slams it down on the floor. “Big enough.”

I huff an exasperated breath. “Are you going to keep avoiding my questions?”

He just stares at me as the seconds tick by. Finally, when I think he’s not going to answer he releases a long sigh. “Kurt knows a lot of people. He put me in touch with one of them when I needed to find someone. I told him I’d pay him back one day when I could return the favor.”

I want to ask him for more information but it’s his turn. “Why did you really leave Vietnam?”

That question cuts to the quick but I knew it was coming, still, my voice comes out wobbly. “I thought I was pregnant.”

Sawyer’s expression shifts into something I’m not sure I can decipher. “But you weren’t?”

I shake my head. “I thought maybe Kurt would have been happy, but…”

Hurt coils in around me as the memories I tried to suppress work their way up the surface.

Kurt’s shock. Then his overwhelming relief and offer to get a vasectomy when I confirmed I wasn’t carrying his child.

Then the cold, hard realization it was over and I was miserable, not really moving forward but unable to get back what we lost.

Sawyer’s voice sounds almost angry as he finishes my sentence. “But Kurt didn’t want to be a dad, so you came back home, put some distance between you and hoped he’d see sense?”

I frown down at my fingernails, wondering why he sounds annoyed. “No. I mean. At first, maybe. But the more time I spent away from him, the more I realized we wanted different things and he wasn’t ever going to change.”

I have no idea why I’m telling him this when I haven’t even talked to Kurt about it, but he wanted to know, and at least this way, he’ll owe me a question.

But when I look at him he’s ready with another. “So, it’s over between you?” he asks.

I have no idea why he’s looking at me like he needs the answer so badly, but my body seems to be moving closer to him. “It’s over. I want kids and he doesn’t.”

The words slip past my lips before I can stop them. “What about you? Do you have any complications back home?”

His gaze drifts from my eyes to my lips and every single nerve in my body seems to ignite. “No. My question,” he murmurs.

I have no idea if I’m misreading this; I could be making a mistake, but when he leans closer so we’re an inch apart, and his breathing seems to be as fast as mine, I’m not sure I care. “What?” I whisper.

His eyes stray to the opening of my shirt then lock onto mine. His voice is ragged. “Are you...seeing anyone right now? Anyone who would have a problem with you being stuck in your bedroom with me?”

Oh shit. My heart is beating so hard; I have to struggle to get the words out. “Are you asking in your professional capacity?”

I’m barely breathing as his voice drops a few octaves. “No.”

He’s waiting for my reaction. I’m waiting for his. And damn it, this is a mistake. I know it’s a mistake, I know I shouldn’t want to compromise him, but I do want to.

Because I want him. And given the intensity of his gaze, he wants me too.

He’s strong. Solid, and I don’t know why or how, but with him I feel…safe.

But feeling isn’t enough. Wanting isn’t enough. I need to hear him say it. “Can I trust you, Sawyer?” I whisper.

His shoulders go rigid, heat burning in his gaze as he moves even closer, so there is no distance left between us. “You can trust me to do my job,” he says.

Sawyer’s hand snakes around the back of neck, sending shivers down my spine. He kisses me softly as though testing my reaction. As though he expects me to turn him down.

His hand is still around my neck when he winces. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he breathes.

He starts to pull away but I grab his forearm. One kiss isn’t enough. I don’t want him to hold back.

I don’t care if he’s doing it out of respect for me, out of conflict or out of duty. I just know I want more than one tender kiss.

So, with the rain and wind beating against the windows surrounding us, and zero thoughts of the consequences, I press my lips against his and open my mouth and kiss him hard.

Any worry I had of being rejected dissolves as his arms wrap around me. His tongue caresses mine and desire floods my body.

Need overtakes all fear, all concern, all thought of the potential aftershocks. His response makes everything wash away as he pulls me onto his lap.

I wrap my legs around him, kissing him deeply, running my hands through his hair, skin on fire as his tongue connects with mine.

I’m near panting as I slowly tug his shirt upwards so his abs and chest as exposed.

I press my lips to his skin, licking his chest and trailing my hands over his stomach muscles as he kisses me.

His hands are in my hair, running down my back. He unsnaps my bra and gently runs his hands over my breasts. My nipples stiffen under his fingers and I moan as desire builds in my body.

I keep kissing him and pull my shirt over my head, he tugs my bra down my arms and leans forward so he can kiss my breasts and lick my nipples.

I groan as pleasure shoots straight to my core, starling me with the intensity. With a grunt, he pulls his shirt off so my breasts are pressed against his chest.

He kisses me deeper, his stubble rough against my skin as anticipation makes me tremble.

I have no idea how long we make out for, skin against skin, but I’m wet against my panties, and drunk with desire when I finally climb off him.

I step back out of his reach so I can unbutton my jeans and slide them and my panties off.

I kick them away, heat rushing around my body as my desire grows the more he looks at me. He’s eyeing me hungrily like he wants to consume every part of me.

He rises slowly, and I step closer, feeling the heat off his body as my fingers work the button on the top of his jeans.

I fumble with the zipper, desperation making my fingers uncooperative. His arms encircle me as his kisses grow more passionate.

I jerk his pants down and take his hard cock in my hand. He moans into my mouth as I stroke his shaft, scratching my nails down his balls as he grabs my ass.

He keeps kissing me as he steers me backward until my knees hit the mattress and my knees buckle.

Sawyer shrugs out of his jeans and boots as I watch breathless and hungry for his cock inside me.

I crawl forward so I can take him in my mouth. He tangles his fingers in my hair as I glide my tongue over his tip, sucking until I can taste his arousal.

He pushes me back, lids heavy with lust, chest heaving as he runs his hands over my body.

The hurricane blows furiously around us, but all I can hear is the pounding of my heart and my frantic breathing as he leans down, spreads my legs apart and starts to lick me.

I grab his hair, moaning as his tongue brings me to an explosive climax.

I’m shuddering, whimpering when he slides up, kissing my stomach, my breasts until he’s on top of me.

I kiss him again as he grabs his cock and slips inside me. I’m so slippery; he moans louder than I do as he enters me.

He pumps me slowly, taking his time, making me come again as my shouts of ecstasy compete with the noise outside the window.

I wrap my legs around his waist and feel his muscles tense as he slides his cock in and out.

When I’m sure he must be close, he surprises me by pulling out, and giving me a delicious smile as he takes my hands.

He tugs me gently, so I’m facing in the opposite direction. I smile as I see his intention.

My mirror is angled so we’re visible on my bed. He shifts so he’s behind me then pulls me back so my back is against his chest.

I lean into him as he runs his hands over my breasts, I keep my eyes on his reflection as he rubs my nipple and slides a hand over my bush.

This is possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. Kinky, dirty, and fucking erotic.

The shadows flicker over my skin as he teases me with his touch. He slides his finger inside me and kisses my neck.

I close my eyes for a second as a climax starts to build, but his breath is hot in my ear. “I want you to see.”

I do as he says, entire body on fire as he moves so I can see his incredible body better.

His cock is too tempting, so I climb on top of him, so we can pleasure each other at the same time.

With his tongue causing ripples of glorious pleasure through me, I glance in the mirror and get a complete view of what I’m doing.

If it’s possible, I get ever hornier as I suckle him until he’s slick and moaning as much as I am.

I start to come again, climax muffled by his cock still in my mouth. When I’m whimpering, shaking and about ready to attack him, he grabs me and rolls me over.

Sawyer’s cock slides inside me, I scratch my nails down his back as he starts to thrust.

He pounds me until I’m a quivering, sweaty mess and I’m screaming for him to fuck me harder.

But he has other ideas, he climbs off me, and yanks me up so I’m on all fours.

I’m panting like a bitch on heat when he rams his cock inside me again, I keep my eyes on our reflection and find him doing the same.

He thrusts faster until I see his face contort as his orgasm overtakes him. His explosion is louder than the howling wind outside as he comes inside me.

I collapse and roll onto my side, out of breath as he flops beside me.

I turn my head to look at him, dazed, satiated, and utterly blown away by the intensity of the sex.

Sawyer licks his lip and runs a hand down my cheek. “I forget. Whose question was it again?” he asks.