Page 27 of Serenity Harbor

Katrina was amazing with his brother. Creative, insightful, endlessly patient. He had no idea how she did it, especially when Bowie found himself completely drained from dealing with Milo for only the few hours before bedtime each day.

It was pitiful, really. He thought he was in excellent condition. He hiked, he mountain biked, he could kayak across the lake and back and barely break a sweat. So why did a few hours with one autistic boy leave him feeling as if he had just competed in an Ironman Triathlon?

As if on cue, he suddenly yawned and had a momentary wish that he could sleep right here in the garage for a few hours.

No. He had to go inside and face the music. He slid out of his SUV, a weird mix of apprehension and anticipation rippling through him like the lake against the shore.

The apprehension part he completely understood. The woman was a lifesaver, and he didn’t even want to imagine what he would do if she quit, like the other caregivers had.

He understood the anticipation, too—but that didn’t necessarily mean he liked it.

He was attracted to Katrina Bailey. Fiercely attracted. Every time he was with her, it swirled through him like the night breeze that rustled the leaves of the aspen trees scattered across his property.

He didn’t know what to do about it. He certainly couldn’t act on the attraction—not when she was easily the best thing that had happened to Milo in weeks.

Attraction or not, the woman was a mystery to him. What was her story—the reason behind those shadows he had glimpsed in her eyes? Why had she left her teaching job in Haven Point the year before, right before the school year was to begin? What had taken her to South America in the first place?

And what was so important that she intended to hurry right back to Colombia after her sister’s wedding?

The questions burned through him. He wanted to ask—but that would require an actual conversation between them, and he had been careful to keep those as brief as possible and focused mostly on Milo and his needs.

With a sigh, he climbed out of his SUV and headed into the house.

The only sound was the quiet hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen and a muted murmur coming from the open-plan family room next to the kitchen.

He followed the sound down the hall and then stopped dead. Milo and Katrina were cuddled up on the sofa, both sound asleep while one of Milo’s favorite movies played on the big screen, animated figures flickering in the darkened room.

A weird softness lodged in his chest as he watched them sleep, a nameless...something.

Yearning. That was it.

Assigning a name to it didn’t make the feeling any less frightening.

He had never really thought about having a family, too busy trying to prove himself for his whole freaking life, first in school, then at Caine Tech. If hedidthink about it, he quickly shoved aside any inkling that the whole family-life thing might be a good idea for him.

What the hell did he know about being part of a normal family? His childhood had been such chaos. To him, the wordfamilyheld only ugly connotations. His mother used the word when referring to whatever counterculture, free-living, drugged-out group she connected with at the moment.

He had always figured he was better off alone, where he could focus on the things he knew and found comfortable. Mutually satisfying casual relationships filled the void for a little human closeness.

Lately, though, especially since he had come to Haven Point, he wondered. As he watched Aidan and Eliza together with their children or saw Ben and McKenzie laughing together, he had discovered an aching little hollow in his chest, a spot he never realized was empty.

Both Ben and Aidan had been his friends for a long time—the closest thing he had to brothers, really, before Milo came along.

They had worked together in the computer lab at MIT, then all three had been on the ground floor of Caine Tech. Aidan was the idea genius, Ben was the organizational whiz and Bowie liked to think he was the one who really made the magic happen. Without his contribution, working out all the details and fine-tuning the software, none of Aidan’s ideas would ever be ready for market.

Both men had changed over the last few years, becoming morecenteredsomehow. He thought they would be distracted, splitting their time between their lives in Haven Point and the company’s California operations, but that hadn’t been the case at all. Both actually seemed more focused.

That was fine for them, Bowie had told himself. He was happy thattheywere happy. That didn’t mean he needed to join their little happily-ever-after club.

He might accept that on an intellectual level. That didn’t do jack to fill the stupid little hollow in his chest.

Heartburn, he told himself. Maybe he should have thought to eat something instead of just pounding coffee all afternoon.

Trying to figure out how to tactfully wake her up, he moved closer to the two sleeping figures on the sofa. Maybe she subconsciously heard him or he stirred the air or something. Whatever the reason, Katrina’s eyelashes fluttered briefly, then opened. For the space of a heartbeat, he thought he saw something flash in her half-asleep gaze when she first spotted him—something hot and hungry that instantaneously stirred an answering response from him.

Could she be attracted to him, too? The possibility staggered him. She hadn’t given any hint of it in their interactions. Instead, she treated him with a polite coolness that always left him wondering if she disliked him.

She quickly closed her stunning blue eyes. When she opened them again, any hint of momentary awareness was gone, replaced by that polite reserve. He might have thought he imagined the whole thing if he didn’t see a soft blush climbing her cheeks.

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