Page 54 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

“Jonah is always the one to blame,” she says darkly.

“Not this time.” And, honestly, I can’t imagine what that silent, gentle giant of a man could have possibly done to enrage Clara this much. But I am sure that whatever their history, Jonah isn’t to blame for the debacle I’ve found myself in. “Look, he and Nick know each other from BUD/S. And I guess Nick called in a favor so that we could tour the turtle research station yesterday. That’s all.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Then why did he come and pick up Nick this morning? And why are you leaving now? What happened on Libélula Caye that got you both so freaked out that you’re leaving paradise mid-vacation?”

“Nothing! The turtles were great. The island was beautiful and picturesque. It was perfect.”

“Are you sure both of you came back from the island? Jonah didn’t murder you?”

“Me?”

“Well, one of you. Nick. Whatever? He didn’t murder Nick, and you fought your way free, and now you’re fleeing for your life?”

“No.”

“He’s not holding Nick hostage and sent you back to the U.S. As a drug courier to earn his freedom?”

“No. Nothing ominous happened. Nothing true crime based. No murder. No drug trafficking. Nothing.”

“Then why did Nick leave?”

“I don’t know,” I blurt, sounding angry and defensive.

And the second the words leave my mouth, I’m hit with this overwhelming wave of emotion. Exhaustion. Guilt. Anger. Grief.

Fear.

Loss.

I sigh. “I do know why he left. I drove him away.”

As if on cue, one of the staff knocks on the door and enters with a tray. Clara jumps up to help and a moment later I’m holding a brownie in one hand and a glass of wine in my other.

We’re alone again, and Clara is just giving me a quiet, thoughtful look, like she has all the time in the world to wait for me to speak.

Eventually, I shrug and say, “He said he loved me.”

Her lips twitch. “What a jerk.”

“Right?” I chuckle, then take a bite of the brownie. “But I didn’t believe him. So he left.”

She’s nibbling on her own brownie. “Why?”

I shake my head at my stupidity. “I don’t know why I didn’t believe him. I guess because it seemed too soon for it to be love.”

“Why?” she asks again.

“Because if this is love, or even the beginnings of love, and he has this much power to hurt me already, how bad is it going to be six months down the road? Or a year?”

“So you sent him away because losing him now is easier than losing him later?”

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

It sounds stupid when I admit it out loud. Stupid and selfish and cowardly.

I push to my feet, suddenly needing to move more than I need chocolate. “Can you arrange the transportation to Caye Caulker for tomorrow morning?”

She nods slowly, looking a little sad. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll take care of it.”

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