Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(45)
Author: Irene Hannon

 

The husky timbre of his voice tightened her throat again.

 

“Thanks for that.” She groped in her pocket for a tissue. Swiped at her nose, forcing back the tears. “But I do lead a boring life by most people’s standards. Contacting Rose, and coming out here to start over, is the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.”

 

“I don’t think your life is boring. You’re doing what you love, and it shows. Tackling the Edgecliff project required vision and enthusiasm and daring and initiative, and from what I’ve seen, you have an endless supply of those.”

 

Warmth radiated through her, chasing away the slight chill in the evening air. “Thank you for that too.”

 

“Just stating the facts.” His reply came out a tad gruff.

 

Pressure built behind her eyes, and she leaned forward. “Can I tell you something?”

 

A beat ticked by.

 

“Okay.” Though he didn’t sound too certain.

 

“My experience with Jason kind of soured me on romance, but it’s nice to know there are guys out there like you who are genuine and honorable.” Even if his fiancée hadn’t appreciated him.

 

A few more beats passed before he responded.

 

“Thanks.”

 

At his flat, perfunctory reply, she peered at him in the dark. “What? You don’t believe I think that, or you don’t believe you’re genuine and honorable?”

 

He lifted one shoulder. “You don’t know me well enough to make that judgment.”

 

“You don’t have to know someone forever to get a sense of who they are. I have positive vibes about Laura too, and we’ve only spent a handful of hours together.”

 

“She’s easy to read.”

 

“And you’re not?”

 

“I have a few more layers.” He folded his arms, leaned back against the column, and changed the subject. “She said you had fun at tea but didn’t offer much beyond that.”

 

Ah.

 

He was fishing for information about their conversation. Curious how much his sister had shared.

 

She should give him a top line. To pretend Laura hadn’t passed on a few key pieces of information would be disingenuous.

 

“Yes, we did. But we also had our serious moments. She told me about your parents. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it would be to cope with a loss like that.”

 

Despite the distance separating them, she could hear his long, slow exhale over the achingly tender chords of the music. “It was hard. We had a great relationship.”

 

“I could tell that from the picture she showed me of the last Christmas you all spent together. Everyone looked so happy.”

 

His posture stiffened, but he didn’t comment on the photo. “What else did you two talk about?”

 

“Daisy, and how you adopted her.”

 

“Did she tell you about Melinda?”

 

Ashley frowned. “Who?”

 

“The woman I’d planned to marry.”

 

“Oh. She mentioned a broken engagement but few other details.” Resting her elbows on the arms of the chair, Ashley continued with a comment rather than a question. “I assumed the incident in the Middle East was a factor in the breakup.”

 

Her carefully phrased statement was as diplomatic as she could make it, giving Jon the option of opening up about his own failed romance or changing the subject.

 

But as Rose launched into Puccini’s “O mio babbino caro,” Ashley prayed the emotion-laden melody would touch his heart and help convince him to trust her with his secrets as she’d trusted him with hers.

 

 

 

Surrounded by soaring notes of poignant music and tendrils of fog curling through the night air, Jon took a deep breath.

 

He could shut down this conversation. Respond with a simple yes, fabricate an excuse to leave, and disappear into the darkness.

 

But if he wanted a world with no more night, he’d have to step into the sunlight sooner or later. Risk exposure. Share his secrets.

 

Until now, nothing had enticed him to do that. Not the increasingly oppressive solitude, or the prospect of years ahead filled with empty days and nights, or the lack of physical human warmth in his daily life.

 

Yet for the first time in half a decade, he was tempted to talk about the trauma that had led to his shattered engagement and derailed his plans for the future.

 

Maybe it was the stirring music wafting through the air.

 

Maybe it was the growing need to assuage the chronic loneliness that had begun to chip away at his soul.

 

Maybe it was the not-so-subtle nudge from Kyle and Laura to get back into circulation, expand his social circle beyond Daisy.

 

More likely, though, it was the sympathetic, receptive woman sitting a few feet away in the dark who filled the night with a light more luminous than the glow provided by the silver moon playing peekaboo with the fog.

 

The question was, did he have the courage to do what she’d done minutes ago and bare his heart?

 

“You know, I think the fog is getting thicker.” Ashley’s observation was a touch too bright. As if she’d sensed his indecision in the long stretch of silence between them and decided to do the shutting down herself. “During my short tenure here, I’ve already learned how fast it can disorient. I wouldn’t want you to get lost going home.”

 

She was giving him an opportunity to escape.

 

But despite the sudden terror nipping at his courage, he didn’t want to take it.

 

Pulse spiking, he sucked in air.

 

He should talk to her. Baring his soul under the cloak of darkness was about as safe as it got. She’d told him her story, and turnabout was fair play. Unless he wanted to send a strong I’m-not-interested-in-getting-to-know-you message.

 

A message that would be a lie.

 

The truth was, he did want to get to know her.

 

And to do that, he’d have to crack the door and let her in.

 

Resting his forearms on his thighs, he laced his unsteady fingers. Tight. Stared at his knuckles. “I can find my way home through the fog. My brick-and-mortar home, anyway. But it’s not always as simple to find your way home in life. Especially after someone you love walks out, as you know.”