The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(84)

“You love that word, but what’s ‘being real’ even mean, Claire? Reality isn’t some fixed thing. It’s different for everyone, and changes depending on your perception. If you perceive yourself as unable to fly, then you won’t ever fly. If you perceive yourself as unable to experience a relationship as it is instead of as you think it should be, then you won’t be able to explore and enjoy it. If you perceive danger everywhere, then you see danger.” He went to grab his hair and then remembered he’d cut it off. He balled his hands in fists at his sides. “Don’t let your perceptions—your misconceptions—affect what’s happening here. I’m not going to sleep with Karina next month.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Karina in four weeks or someone else in four months. Logan, you run from your home here, always searching for the next new exciting thing. For this little while, I’ve been that shiny new thing. But you’re an explorer. You’ve no interest in a picket fence, nursery school, and a quiet life by the sea. And I don’t begrudge you what makes you happy. I want you to be happy on your journey. I just don’t want to go with you.”

“Then stay here and build your business, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the time we have now and then see what happens when I return from Lesbos.” He stroked her arm. “Are you tired of me?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then let this unfold on its own timeline.” He shuddered at the thought of being cast out of her warmth.

She hugged herself, turning away and staring down the street toward the town green. For a few seconds, he thought he’d convinced her to reconsider, and his chest filled with helium.

She glanced up at him. “Is there any chance in the world that you could see yourself happily committed to me, living here in town, and raising a family?”

He froze—as if all the blood had drained from his body—having never given any thought to such permanence. Not with her or anyone. Not ever.

“See.” She thrust her hand toward him, palm up. “Even the idea stops you cold. Letting things unfold when we know it’s only going to hurt me is great for you but terrible for me. Though unintentional, that’d be the result.”

“I don’t know what I want from minute to minute, so how can you know what I want or what will be?” He gripped her waist as if the strength of his hands would make her feel what he felt. “You mean something to me, and you know I don’t say that lightly. I don’t get close to people, but I feel a connection with you, Claire. Something new and different from anything I’ve had with other women. Please don’t push me away so soon.”

Her eyes were watery. “You say things like that and it breaks my heart, because I want to believe that there is something big enough here to bridge the gap between the different things we want from life.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and spoke in hushed but urgent tones. “We won’t know if you won’t give us more time.”

She held his face in her hands. “I’m almost thirty-one. I’d like to have a family. I can’t waste time when the odds are so long.”

He broke away and took a few steps across the porch, raising his hand in the air. “So what, you’re going to hang out here and settle for someone like Ben Lockwood?”

“Settle?” She scowled. “Ben is a fine, fine man, Logan.”

“You know what I mean.” He’d been pissed at Ben since he’d returned to town. He’d blamed it on Ben’s anti-Peyton stance but now had to admit it partly came from jealousy that he’d had such an important place in Claire’s life.

“No, actually, I don’t. If you’re insulting him for building a quiet life near his family, then you might as well insult me and millions and millions of other people.”

They stared at each other. His fingers were growing numb from the cold. Goose bumps rose on her arms. The air between them fogged from heavy breaths despite the fact that they were standing still.

He wanted to shake her. Instead, he kissed her.

A deep, possessive kiss, complete with gnashing teeth and plundering tongues. A kiss meant to change her mind . . . or at least make her doubt her hasty decision. His heart beat faster, desperate to hold on to this bond.

She broke the spell when she pulled away. With her cheek pressed to his chest, she begged, “Logan, if you care about me, let me go now.”

He touched her hair and shoulders, and then let his arms fall to his side. Inside something broke and sapped the fight out of him. “If that’s what you wish.”

“Trust me, this is not my wish. But my wish would change something essential about you, and I can’t want that.” She smiled and searched his face as if memorizing it. “Thank you for . . . all of it. I’ll catch a ride home with my parents tonight, okay?” She turned to go back inside, then stopped. Without looking back, she said, “I hope you get the story you’ve been searching for in Lesbos, Logan. And know I’ll be praying for your safe return.”

She flung open the French door and disappeared inside. It clicked shut behind her, leaving him out in the cold.





Chapter Eighteen

Claire nodded while Mrs. Brewster droned on indecisively about her exhaustive list of pros and cons when comparing the Calacatta gold marble to the jade-green onyx for the countertops in her bathroom. “I just can’t decide. What would you do, Claire?”