Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(72)

“What’s going on?” he said.

The wind breathed a cool breath across her skin, making her shiver. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Meridith—that kiss . . .”

“It was just a kiss,” she said feebly, but her mind replayed the embrace, refuting her words.

“You won’t even look at me.” His voice was strained. “Maybe we need to turn out the lights.”

Her face burned. Even the wind couldn’t cool it. The grass at Jake’s feet shimmied and bowed over his scarred tennis shoes.

“I don’t know what to say. I—I just can’t do this.” She wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Why?”

She searched the ground for answers like she’d find it among the blades of grass, pull it up by the roots, and hand it over. If only it were so easy.

When nothing materialized, she chose the only answer that sounded logical. “I just broke my engagement a month ago. You can’t expect—”

“This isn’t about him, and you know it.”

An ache started behind her eyes. “I don’t know what it is.”

“Then there’s nothing to stop us, is there? Unless you don’t feel anything for me . . .” Self-doubt crept into his tone.

She let the sentence hang, unable to deny it. She prayed somehow he wouldn’t remember her response to the kiss or at least not remember it the way she did. She took three cleansing breaths. Four.

The briny air failed to calm her.

“No, it’s there, isn’t it.” It wasn’t even a question.

There was no point denying it. “All right, I won’t deny an attraction. But that’s all, that’s all there can be.”

“Why?”

She threw her hands up. “I’m leaving soon, moving hundreds of miles away, I’ve just inherited three kids, my engagement’s broken, my future’s uncertain . . .” Surely there was more, but her mind ran out of steam.

“Those are all things people work around.” He took a step toward her, then another. “There’s something else.”

A memory flashed in her mind. Her mother, in manic mode coming toward her, slowly, just like this. She’d been no more than nine years old, had been wrapped in her mom’s arms only an hour earlier, but an hour made all the difference. Now her mom’s face was red and mottled, and she was yelling. Meridith had covered her ears with her hands.

Jake’s movement snagged her attention. He was getting close.

She stepped back. 974 . . . 948 . . . 922 . . .

“Why are you running?”

She knew he wasn’t talking about the step. It hadn’t put nearly enough distance between them. He was there, right in front of her. 896 . . . 8 . . .

“Meridith.” He took her by the shoulders.

The motion drew her eyes to his, and she knew it with certainty: she was too far gone. As far gone as he, maybe more. What had she done? How was she going to escape with her heart intact? There weren’t enough calming breaths to fix this. She could count backward from a million and still be where she was now. Hopelessly in love with the man who made her feel too many things.

“You’re afraid.” His own statement seemed to surprise him.

Was she afraid? She took a frantic survey of her vitals. Was it fear or just this . . . she struggled to find the word. Why was it so hard? And why did he have to torture her with the particulars? She didn’t want to think about this. Why couldn’t he just drop it?

“What are you afraid of?” He gave her a little shake. “What, Meridith?”

“I don’t like the way you make me feel!” The words burst from her unbidden. It was as close to the truth as she could get. This inward searching was worse than feeling her way through the darkness. She felt like she’d just smacked into a wall.

Jake released her slowly.

She rubbed the place where his hands had been, hoping they were done. Please let’s be done.

“Explain.”

She should’ve known he couldn’t leave it at that. “I don’t know how.”

“Try.”

The wind blew her hair across her face. She welcomed the screen between them. “You make me feel . . . unsettled.” It was as close as she could come to explaining, but it didn’t do justice to what he did to her.

“That can be a good thing.” She heard amusement in his tone. It reminded her of when she first met him.

“Not for me,” she said, suddenly saddened to realize where they’d ended up all these weeks later. “I spent my whole childhood feeling unsettled. I’m done with that.”

The wind blew again, pulling the curtain of hair from her face. He was like this wind, pulling her one way one minute, another the next, changing course without warning.

“So . . . what? You’re going to live your life without love? What kind of life is that?”

“There are different kinds of love.”

“Like what you had with Stephen?” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s not love, Meridith, that’s settling.”

A knot swelled in her throat. He could see it however he wanted, but that wasn’t going to change anything. She was done here. She turned and walked toward the house. The wind sucked at her shirt.