Page 93 of Windlass

“The bar is not on the ground.” Angie’s tone was suddenly serious. “Never underestimate the value of giving someone a place they feel safe.”

Angie’s hazel eyes briefly met Stevie’s. The world shrank, and Stevie didn’t know if she could stand the rush of emotions barreling through her.Shemade Angie feel safe; Angie’s expression said so clearly. She wanted to pull Angie into a tight silent hug. She did not. Angie rarely shared her feelings, and Stevie sensed she’d shy away if Stevie acknowledged them openly.

Instead, she threaded her fingers through Angie’s and asked, “Will you talk to her sometime?”

“I’ll try. She might not want to talk to me.”

“Well, she wouldn’t tellmewhat was going on.”

Angie cupped her cheek, a sad, half smile on her lips. “Sometimes what matters is that you cared enough to ask.”

Again, the lowest bar possible, but she didn’t voice that sentiment this time. She focused instead on what she could do, and what she could do was make pancakes and another pot of coffee.

Stevie made Angie feel safe. Her hands were steady as they poured batter onto the griddle. Her heart, however, pounded with the effort of containing her bittersweet joy.

Jaq returned as Stevie flipped the first pancakes onto a plate.

“Butter and syrup, the real stuff, on the table. Eat. Now.”

“Yes sir,” said Jaq.

The three of them sat down around the table, a stack of fluffy pancakes adorning each plate, and Stevie grilled Jaq on her opinions about each flavor until Angie kicked her beneath the table and told her to let the poor girl eat in peace.

“There is no peace in the battle for pancake supremacy,” said Stevie, deepening her voice.

“Oh my god, you’re such a nerd. Have you asked Jaq about watching the house while we’re on the island?”

“Uh, no. Jaq, want to make some extra money and risk life and limb taking care of Angie’s cat and the horses?”

Jaq nodded with a mouth full of banana pancake.

“Cool. I’ll leave out some fireplace gloves in case you need to touch him—”

“Stop maligning my sweet prince. Jaq, James is fine. He won’t give you any trouble. Stevie is being a jerk.”

Stevie, who felt herself to be the victim of James’s many crimes, pulled a face that made Jaq laugh, choke, and laugh again.

Contentment, that most dangerous of emotions, settled over Stevie with the sound.

Ivy’s nerves, evident in the increasing number of engagement-related text messages blowing Stevie’s phone, had started to rub off on Stevie, and she was relieved when it was finally time for their island weekend getaway. With a final text to Ivy that readTurning my phone on silent so nobody starts asking questions about our torrid affair, Stevie stowed her phone and turned her attention to the far more intriguing affair in front of her: Angie.

Morgan was due to pick them up any minute. Their bags sat by the door, and Stevie had left detailed instructions with Jaq about caring for the horses and James, who would not be accompanying them. He and Stormy shared a healthy fear of water. Unlike Stormy, James would be spared.

“How am I supposed to go three days without touching you?” Stevie said into Angie’s neck. Angie pressed into her with her hips and chest, her breath growing needy as Stevie bit her.

“At least we’re sharing a room.”

“True,” said Stevie. “But you’ll have to be quiet, and I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“Do you know what would make that even harder?” Angie asked, her lips brushing Stevie’s ear.

Stevie bit her in response.

“Somethinghard,” Angie said.

Stillness rippled through Stevie, followed by a rush of heat. “Do you mean—”

“Fetch,” said Angie.

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