Page 101 of Beyond the Blue Horizon
A gusty sigh blew between my lips. “I don’t have one of those, Theo.”
God, was I really admitting this to him?
Agitation burned through my veins, my nerves firing with reticence.
“No? And why’s that, Piper?”
I could almost feel his hands on me, peeling back the layers.
Terrified to let him in, I tossed out the first ridiculous defense I could find. “Haven’t you heard it said not all who wander are lost?”
He came to a stop at the T at Vista View. His truck idled as he turned to peer over at me.
My insides roiled. A frenzy of fear and the need he incited.
I’d expected his expression might be amused.
Smug.
Cocky.
Only it was knowing.
Filled with a sincerity that it shouldn’t possess.
“But I think we both know you are lost, Piper, and maybe in all your wandering, you were supposed to find me.”
Emotion rushed, and I forced myself to keep my attention focused out the windshield. If I looked at him, I would completely crack.
My teeth ground as I tried to fight the moisture that burned at the backs of my eyes.
“I don’t have any space inside me for any more breaking, Theo.”
We both knew that’s exactly what would happen. There was something too volatile between us for it to amount to anything else.
And with whatever was coming off him right then—a brawl of grief and anguish and the unfound need that I could feel seeping from his spirit—I didn’t think he could take any more breaking, either.
He made the right, and silence took us over as he drove along the side of the lake.
The night was heavy, and a gibbous moon hung over the glittering waters and whispered through the spikes of the trees that stretched for the heavens.
The neon sign that saidThe Sanctuaryglowed in the distance.
The setting was so gorgeous that I could hardly breathe.
Or maybe Theo Mallin was the entire reason that I couldn’t press the oxygen from my lungs, my chest screaming as he made the left onto the long drive that followed the winding path to the motel.
He slowed as he eased through, driving along the far side of the parking lot and onto the narrow lane that led to the two small cabins at the edge of the property.
He came to a stop in the little round drive and put the truck into park.
I started to tell himThank you for the ride, but he was already out and rounding to my side. Pulling the door open, he extended his hand.
I hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t take it.
I needed to create as much distance between us as I could, but I was warily accepting it and allowing him to help me down from the truck.
My boots hit the ground, and I exhaled a staggered breath and tried to find my footing.
