Eden's Promise by MJ Fredrick Page B

mistake, even if they found her sister and were able to go back to the island today. She was responsible for everyone, and he wanted to be responsible for no one. And look, she’d already dragged him onto this mission.
    He slipped out of bed and crept down the hall to the stairs, gun at the ready. The dogs he’d heard last night were in the neighborhood, but not in the yard. Did they smell him and Eden? Probably. Were they dangerous? Again, probably. Shit.  
    Time to eat and hit the road. He’d seen some oatmeal and crap in the pantry last night. Maybe he could fix something up for breakfast before they continued their search.
    He found a bag of chow mein noodles in the back of the pantry, a jar of olives and a can of coconut milk. His taste buds protested but his stomach demanded attention. He almost—almost—wished for the crushed bag of potato chips Eden had devoured last night. Too many days that had been his only food. He’d only been gone from the island a few hours and he already missed the vegetables and breads his mother had made. All the more reason to end this mission.
    Footsteps padded on the stairs and Eden appeared, legs bare beneath the flannel shirt she wore, hair tangled about her shoulders, and his body sprang to attention again. Jesus, did she even know what she was doing to him? He doubted she had too much experience—not too many guys hung around on the island. There was Damien, and he wondered about the nature of their relationship, but couldn’t decipher it. He supposed he could ask, but what would she make of that question? Would she interpret it as interest?
    Besides, if Damien was sleeping with her, would he let her travel here with him? Hell, Aaron wasn’t sleeping with her and he would have had trouble letting her come here alone with Damien.
    “Breakfast,” he said, spreading his hands before him.
    “Oh, olives! I haven’t had olives in a long time, even before.” She grabbed the jar and twisted it open, dipped her fingers inside. She popped one in her mouth and closed her eyes in pleasure. He found himself gripping the edge of the counter. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Think they have any gin?”
    “Maybe. Drinking before we go out isn’t the best idea, though.”
    “Right.” Some of the pleasure disappeared from her face. “Maybe we can save some. I’d die for a martini.”
    He scowled as she went through the cabinets. She looked over her shoulder and grinned.  
    “What? Not a martini fan?”
    “I’d rather drink rubbing alcohol. But if you find some beer under there, or some scotch...”
    “Bingo!” she exclaimed and stepped back to reveal a well-stocked liquor cabinet.  
    As he opened the bag of chow mein noodles, she started pulling out bottles. And bottles. And bottles.
    “We can’t carry all those,” he pointed out.  
    “Fine. A bottle of scotch and a bottle of vodka, then.”  
    They choked down the food as the sun went down, then went upstairs to dress. Eden was able to find some jeans in the closet that fit and left her smelly jeans behind.
    “I wonder if the people who live here will ever come home,” she mused as they walked out, securing the door behind them. “I mean, are they even still alive? Where did they go?”
    “They left with some organization, I’m thinking, so maybe they went to a nearby town or a refugee camp. Maybe we’ll find Kelly in one of those.”
    “Do you think they’re still operational?”
    “I don’t know. I encountered a couple on the way to the island, but they weren’t too populated. They might be able to point us in the right direction, though.”
    They went to the kitchen for one last search of the pantry, for anything they could take with them to help their own supplies last longer. Eden tucked her nose in the collar of her shirt and opened the refrigerator, shone her flashlight inside, but found nothing of use.
    Just then she heard the click of claws on the tile. She twisted to see a large dog, mixed