CHAPTER ELEVEN
JAMES
Safe. Sarah is safe.
We’re holed up in a cave just outside the town. I figured it made sense. Sarah found safety in a cave once before, so maybe it’ll work again.
Not that we had many options. She needed to rest, and after the mess we left at the pharmacy, it was only a matter of time before someone came sniffing around. That’s how it usually goes.
I’m sitting beside Sarah, watching her so intently I forget how to blink.
I didn’t sleep. Not even close. She has all of me right now. My focus. My thoughts.
She’s resting on a makeshift bed we put together from what was left of our gear. Her breathing is so soft, so faint, it almost disappears into the stifling morning air. Every time her chest rises under the blanket, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.
Sixteen hours. She’s been sleeping for sixteen hours, and it’s like part of me is stuck in limbo with her.
God, I miss her voice.
Ryan’s sitting across from the fire, keeping an eye on the cave entrance. The vines hanging over the opening do a decent job hiding it, giving us this little pocket of peace from the outside world.
The walls inside the cave are covered in moss and ferns, almost like something out of a painting. Sarah’s gonna love it when she wakes up.
I glance back at the fire, where Lorelai’s stirring a pot of something that smells insanely good. The sweet aroma takes me way back to Sunday afternoons, apple pies, and my mom dancing in the living room.
Meanwhile, Michael’s been digging through Sarah’s backpack like a man on a mission for the past ten minutes. When he finally finds whatever he’s been searching for, he strolls over to the pot Lorelai’s been babysitting and dumps a bottle of honey straight into it.
Oh no.
Lorelai freezes. Her head snaps toward the pot so fast her bangs fall into her eyes. She blows them out of the way, then shoots Michael a look like he just insulted her grandma, her dog, and her cooking, all at once.
“What the hell did you just put in my food?”
“Honey,” Michael says, flashing his classic I’m-too-charming-to-get-in-trouble smile.
Lorelai’s hands fly to her hips. “Are you insane?”
Michael shrugs. “It’s a family secret. My dad used to put honey on everything. Trust me, it’s good.”
I glance back and forth between Lorelai and Michael, like I’m watching a ping-pong match. Ryan’s watching too, grinning at the whole thing.
Michael and Lorelai have been at each other’s throats all night over the dumbest crap. To be honest, she’s kinda bossy. I’m still nursing a bruised ego from when she slapped my hand away for touching Sarah’s pillow and told me I was ruining it.
“Take your honey and stay far away from my lunch!” Lorelai snaps, waving him off like a stray dog.
Michael opens his mouth to protest. “But—”
“No.” Lorelai cuts him off before he can finish, grabbing a carrot she’s been chopping and jabbing it at his chest like it’s a knife. “I’m the cook here. I’m the queen of this kitchen—campfire, whatever. And I’m not letting some little boy screw up my food.”
“Little boy?” Michael’s face twists like she actually slapped him.
Ryan lets out a laugh, and even I’m fighting back a grin.
“Just ’cause you’re what, like ten years older than me, doesn’t make me a little boy.” Michael crosses his arms. “It just makes you old.”
“Old and way more experienced. I’m pretty sure you’ve never made a chick come.”
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me? Age has nothing to do with it. You girls got the same parts! I could make you come right now. Just tell Ryan to take a walk.”
I slap a hand to my face. Seriously, every time we meet a girl on the road, Michael’s dick takes the wheel. It’s like whatever filter his brain once had just vanishes.
“Ryan likes to watch. He doesn’t mind.” Lorelai smirks and winks at him. “But I bet that’s too much for you, little boy—”
“Please, don’t sleep with my brother. I don’t need the mental image.”
I whip my head around to see Sarah sitting up.
She’s awake. She’s talking. Finally.
How the hell did I survive all these hours without her?
“And besides,” Sarah adds with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, “you’re just turning him on. My dear brother? Oh yeah, he’s into threesomes. Or, you know, ménage à trois, if we’re being classy about it. Back at the ranch, let’s just say it was kinda his thing. Trust me, I know.”
“Sarah, what the hell?!” Michael’s voice practically cracks, and his jaw drops so low it’s a miracle it doesn’t hit the ground.
“I saw you with Emily and Lucy in the barn one night.” Sarah blinks slowly, as if reliving a horror story. “That image burned into my brain like a bad tattoo.”
“Damn, little boy,” Lorelai says, poking Michael’s chest again with the carrot. “You just got a lot more interesting.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “Oh, boy.”
Her dramatic delivery is so spot-on, it sends the whole cave into laughter, even Michael, though he’s definitely plotting some kind of revenge.
I lock eyes with her like she’s the only one in the cave.
“Ménage à trois, baby? Where’d you hear about that?”
She leans in like she’s about to tell me a secret. “One time, I found a book.”
Her face turns bright red, and she covers her mouth with one hand, trying to hide her giggles. Sometimes, she looks so damn cute and innocent, I fall for her all over again.
She stretches a little, like her body’s still trying to catch up with her brain, then leans back against my chest, that sleepy look still in her eyes.
Her gaze drifts around the cave, like she’s piecing together where she is and what’s going on, until it lands on the pots over the fire that Lorelai’s been stirring.
“Is it lunchtime already?” she asks.
“Yeah, and I missed you like hell,” I say, catching her hand and kissing her fingertips.
With Sarah awake, everything feels lighter. Even the darkness I carry is pushed back, at least for a little while, replaced by her light.
“Wait, are we seriously in a cave, James?” Sarah’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. She’s got one eyebrow arched, giving me that fake-accusatory look that dares me not to laugh. “I mean, I said I didn’t need a bed, but a cave? Really?”
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her.
“One day, Sarah, I swear, I’ll get us a ranch.
Not just any ranch. A place so big it’ll feel like our own damn city.
Somewhere near that town we’re looking for.
Somewhere safe. You’ll have all the space to do whatever you want.
Big green fields, a porch swing to watch the sunset, horses to raise.
And I’ll just sit back and watch you wander around in that skirt, covered in little butterflies, clinging to you in all the right places.
And when no one’s looking, I’ll find new ways to get my hands all over you, right there in the middle of those fields. ”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “Do you think there’ll be other abandoned towns nearby? I’d love to explore them.”
“You can check out any town you want. And if it’s not safe yet… I’ll make it safe. For you.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need all that.”
“But I’ll do it anyway,” I say, and I mean it.
“And what about our place? What’s it gonna look like?”
“It’s gonna be a big wooden house with a wraparound porch and flowers on every windowsill. And yeah, you get to pick the roof color.”
She taps her lips thoughtfully. “Can I paint it pink?”
I blink. “Woman, are you out of your mind?”
She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but laugh too.
“What about the inside, Outsider?”
I kiss her hairline and let my breath tickle her ear. “Huge bookcases in every room. Big enough for all those books you’re always craving.”
She cups my cheek, and her touch warms me. “How many books are we talking about?”
“As many as you want.”
Her whole face lights up as if it’s the Fourth of July, and I hold her tighter.
“There’ll be a big fireplace in the living room too. And right in front of it, the softest carpet you’ve ever felt.”
“A soft carpet?” she asks.
“Yep. So I can make love to you. Every. Single. Night.”
“Every single night?”
“Absolutely!”
“That sounds like… a lot of sex.”
“With you? It’s never enough.”
She snorts a laugh, way too cute for her own good.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, trying to keep a straight face.
She glances around the cave. “‘I grew up on a ranch, not in a cave, you know.’”
I chuckle, remembering the first time she said that to me.
“Sixteen hours without you,” I say, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. “God, I’ve missed you, my island.”
She smiles softly. “I know, my ocean.”