her elbow as he guided Muirinn out of the police station into the harsh sunlight. She put on her shades.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
“I—” she exhaled nervously. “I guess I am. Must be low blood sugar or something. Why didn’t you tell me that Gus didn’t drive out to the mine?”
“I thought you knew those details.” Concern softened his blue eyes. “Have you eaten, Muirinn?”
“I…I just haven’t been hungry.”
“Come, we’re getting some lunch into you.”
“Jett, I should really just go home.”
“Food first, then I’ll take you home.” His tone brooked no argument, and Muirinn allowed him to escort her down to a small café patio with red umbrellas near the harbor, feeling that each second longer she spent with him, the further she was headed past the point of no return.
People stared openly as they walked, and her sense of unease deepened. The rumors had no doubt rippled through town—Safe Harbor’s prodigal daughter had returned. And now she was seven months’ pregnant, being escorted around town by a married man.
She wondered, too, how they must judge her for missing Gus’s funeral, coming after the fact to claim her inheritance.
They had no idea what remorse she was feeling at not having returned once in eleven years to see her grandfather. Even though she’d met with Gus on neutral territory over theyears, she now realized that it had probably hurt Gus beyond words that she hadn’t come home.
The irony wasn’t lost on her.
She’d done it solely to avoid Jett, yet here he was, the man who had her back now. And she realized just how deeply she’d missed him.
And how much trouble she was getting herself into.
“Jett,” she said softly as he pulled out a chair for her at a table under a red umbrella, feeling people watching. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Sit, Muirinn. Just eat something, and then I’ll take you right home.”
That was the kind of man he was. Like his father, Jett was hardwired to save, rescue. Protect. Emotion choked her inexplicably. She took a seat and a second to compose herself.
He avoided her gaze as he reached for the menu, but the small muscle at the base of his jaw pulsed. He was as conflicted as she was, and Muirinn could see it.
I’m sorry to have put you in this position. I promise to stay out of your way after today, Jett.
Jett stared blindly at the menu, unable to focus on the items. What in hell was he really looking for here, right this minute? With her?
For a brief shining nanosecond, he knew. This wasn’t about trying to help her figure out what had gone down with Gus, or about helping her with the truck. He wanted her back .
He wanted her to prove herself to him, so he could feel safe enough to tell her about their son. So he could tell her that he wasn’t married.
Mostly, he needed her to come clean about having given his baby away behind his back. He wanted to hear her say that she was sorry. He wanted to know that she’d felt remorse.
And he wanted to be sure that she was going to stay.
Only then could he tell her about Troy.
Only then could he trust himself to be near her, because his body sure as hell had different ideas from his mind.
Jett blew out a breath, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “What’re you having?”
“Orange juice.”
He glanced up. “You need more. You’re eating for two.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
He flipped the menu shut, ordered a sandwich, juice and coffee. “Now tell me what’s going on, Muirinn,” he said as the waitress left.
“You mean with the break-ins?”
No, with you, the baby, the father, that fancy magazine job—everything.
“Yeah, with the break-ins,” he said instead. “You’re clearly suspicious about Gus’s death, and you asked me earlier specifically if he’d been found down the Sodwana shaft. And I want to know why.”
She fiddled with her napkin, her clear green eyes holding his for a moment, and a band
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
“I—” she exhaled nervously. “I guess I am. Must be low blood sugar or something. Why didn’t you tell me that Gus didn’t drive out to the mine?”
“I thought you knew those details.” Concern softened his blue eyes. “Have you eaten, Muirinn?”
“I…I just haven’t been hungry.”
“Come, we’re getting some lunch into you.”
“Jett, I should really just go home.”
“Food first, then I’ll take you home.” His tone brooked no argument, and Muirinn allowed him to escort her down to a small café patio with red umbrellas near the harbor, feeling that each second longer she spent with him, the further she was headed past the point of no return.
People stared openly as they walked, and her sense of unease deepened. The rumors had no doubt rippled through town—Safe Harbor’s prodigal daughter had returned. And now she was seven months’ pregnant, being escorted around town by a married man.
She wondered, too, how they must judge her for missing Gus’s funeral, coming after the fact to claim her inheritance.
They had no idea what remorse she was feeling at not having returned once in eleven years to see her grandfather. Even though she’d met with Gus on neutral territory over theyears, she now realized that it had probably hurt Gus beyond words that she hadn’t come home.
The irony wasn’t lost on her.
She’d done it solely to avoid Jett, yet here he was, the man who had her back now. And she realized just how deeply she’d missed him.
And how much trouble she was getting herself into.
“Jett,” she said softly as he pulled out a chair for her at a table under a red umbrella, feeling people watching. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Sit, Muirinn. Just eat something, and then I’ll take you right home.”
That was the kind of man he was. Like his father, Jett was hardwired to save, rescue. Protect. Emotion choked her inexplicably. She took a seat and a second to compose herself.
He avoided her gaze as he reached for the menu, but the small muscle at the base of his jaw pulsed. He was as conflicted as she was, and Muirinn could see it.
I’m sorry to have put you in this position. I promise to stay out of your way after today, Jett.
Jett stared blindly at the menu, unable to focus on the items. What in hell was he really looking for here, right this minute? With her?
For a brief shining nanosecond, he knew. This wasn’t about trying to help her figure out what had gone down with Gus, or about helping her with the truck. He wanted her back .
He wanted her to prove herself to him, so he could feel safe enough to tell her about their son. So he could tell her that he wasn’t married.
Mostly, he needed her to come clean about having given his baby away behind his back. He wanted to hear her say that she was sorry. He wanted to know that she’d felt remorse.
And he wanted to be sure that she was going to stay.
Only then could he tell her about Troy.
Only then could he trust himself to be near her, because his body sure as hell had different ideas from his mind.
Jett blew out a breath, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “What’re you having?”
“Orange juice.”
He glanced up. “You need more. You’re eating for two.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
He flipped the menu shut, ordered a sandwich, juice and coffee. “Now tell me what’s going on, Muirinn,” he said as the waitress left.
“You mean with the break-ins?”
No, with you, the baby, the father, that fancy magazine job—everything.
“Yeah, with the break-ins,” he said instead. “You’re clearly suspicious about Gus’s death, and you asked me earlier specifically if he’d been found down the Sodwana shaft. And I want to know why.”
She fiddled with her napkin, her clear green eyes holding his for a moment, and a band
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