Page 42 of Island Homecoming

He should be happy. Elated. This was what she wanted. What she’d worked for since they were in school. Was one of her options here, with the Brookwell police? The question burned in the back of his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Not yet.

Shameful as it was to admit, he wasn’t sure he could deal with the risks she took on the job. His mind lurched back to the night of the nursery break-in. He was selfish, and yes, overprotective, to want her out of harm’s way. Knowing she was well-trained and fully capable didn’t seem to ease the pressure in his chest when she dressed for work, that gun he knew she didn’t want to carry strapped on her hip.

If something happened… Well, here if something happened, he’d be close enough to hear about it. To help. To support her through anything. If she headed back to the Keys, he’d be lost.

“Nash?”

He tipped up her chin and kissed her again. “I’m gonna give you a bold and blatant pitch for staying here.” His hands drifted to her hips and he pulled her in close.

Now her eyes sparkled with heat, her hands running along his forearms. “I’m listening.”

He loved to watch her touch him, to feel her hands on his skin. Her strength was balanced with a graceful beauty, a softness she only seemed to reveal when he got close enough. Would she let him stay close enough?

“Imagine,” he began, “after a tough day writing tickets to jaywalkers and speeding tourists on Central, you and I meet here over a plate of fried green tomatoes and watch the sunset from the hammock.”

“Hmm.” Her hands squeezed his biceps, stroked up to wind around his neck. “You paint quite a picture.”

“It’s only as good as the woman in it.”

“Are you asking me to stay?”

Tonight. Always.He forced himself to relax his grip. “I’m asking you to think about it. Surely, you’ve noticed the perks.” At her lifted eyebrow he chuckled. “Beyond the obvious.” He nipped at her lip. Breathed through the near-giddy rush of potential.

It was almost too much, thinking about her here, sharing a life with him day by day. A life that was everything he’d dreamed of, with the only woman he’d wanted this way. She could be here, with him, every day. He could fix her dinner, they could walk on the beach or dance down at the Pelican whenever it suited them.

“Your career is important, Jess.” To her and to him. Because it was a vital piece of her. “Only you can decide what’s best for you.”

His heart protested. Yes, he was holding back. Just a little. Enough to protect himself. It took all his willpower not to make a case thathewas best for her, that being together was the best plan. For both of them. Though her lips curved, he felt the immediate distance.

She stepped out of his embrace and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Had he gone too far or not said enough? Begging her for what he wanted most wouldn’t serve either of them. She’d feel trapped—or worse obligated—and he’d just feel like a manipulator.

“What are you thinking?” His arms felt empty. It was a sensation he feared would become familiar.

She retrieved her water and took a long drink. “Those decisions feel easy one minute and a heartbeat later, I’m stressing about calling Key West and telling them I’m not coming back.”

“You miss your friends.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Logically, I know they’ll visit. One of them will be working in Charleston soon. But it’s more. It’s the responsibility. The commitment I made.” She sighed, her eyes swimming when she looked up at him. “I liked my job.”

“Until you didn’t.”

Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. “True. And I still dread telling my partner and the department that I’m out. I’m done.”

He had to fight the urge to celebrate. “Are you really?”

“I liked my job, but I can’t go back there.” She swallowed. “Can’t work as a cop without a weapon. I don’t want to carry anymore. That means the end of the job.”

“You have options.” He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “People grow and change. We’re proof right here, just the two of us. But that’s a universal truth.”

“What are you saying?”

“Key West was good for you.” She’d left him here, but found herself there. “Until things changed. You have options,” he repeated.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” Her fingertips dragged up and down through the condensation on the glass.

“Do tell?”

“My friend Gabby said the same thing last time we talked.” When she lifted her face, the lost expression in her eyes was like a sucker punch, stealing his breath. “I guess I should start exploring those options.”

---