In Harmony(91)

“You have a nice house,” he said, as I led him through the kitchen to the family living room. His gaze roamed around once more, then came back to me. Some of the tension slid out of his shoulders as he took in my short pajama shorts and baseball-style sleep-shirt, white with pink sleeves.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

I didn’t say anything but took hold of him by the front of his hoodie and pulled him to me. He wrapped his arms around me and we held each other for a long time.

“I needed this,” he said finally. “You.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked against his chest. “I have pizza.”

He shook his head. I followed his gaze to the fireplace mantel and a service award my dad had received: a large glass Wexx symbol.

“I should go,” he said.

And I should have let him.

“Stay,” I said. “Talk to me. What happened with the Wexx people?”

Isaac hesitated, then slumped on the couch and rubbed his eyes.

“They gave me the ‘big picture,’” he said. “My dad hadn’t been paying royalties on the logo, and he was in debt up to his ass with the gas supplier. But I already knew that. What I didn’t know was how much he owed in back taxes. There’s a lien on the property. And because of the nature of the explosion, they suspect arson. Some kind of fraud, I guess, or willful negligence. What kind of person tries to commit fraud by blowing up his business when he’s standing right in the middle of it?”

“You said you don’t think it was an accident?”

“I don’t know that he did it on purpose, but if he did, it wasn’t to get out of debt. It was to get out of living.”

I pulled Isaac to me and pressed my lips to his chin. “I’ll talk to my dad. He has to help you.”

“Willow…”

“I know, but I have to try. I can’t let you take all of this on. It’s too much.”

“What will be the price I pay for his help? I can tell you right now, it’s you. You’ll be the price I pay.” He shook his head slowly back-and-forth. “It’s too much. I can’t lose you on top of everything else.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m so tired.”

I stood up and took him by the hand. I led him through my big, beautiful, cold house. Upstairs to my room, where his eyes immediately found the bundle of blankets on the floor.

“It’s not the same bed where it happened,” I said, “but I still can’t sleep in it. I was thinking maybe I could give it a try with you.”

Isaac nodded. He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers while I hauled my blankets up onto the queen-size bed. Isaac helped me smooth out the sheets and comforter, and then we climbed in together.

We lay curled on our sides, facing each other, our fingers intertwined, our legs tangled.

“I’m going to have to go away for a while,” he said. “Probably longer than I thought. Seems so na?ve to think I’d hit the jackpot right out of the gate, and make millions of dollars to fix everything.”

“It could happen,” I told him. “You’re amazing, Isaac.”

“So are you.”

I shook my head against the pillow. “Not the same. Your talent is on a different level. It’s like you cast a spell, tricking us into believing we’re somewhere else. That’s a gift. Sometimes people need a break from their own lives. You give that to them.”

“That’s why I do it,” he said tiredly. “To get a break from my own life. Except for right now. With you.”

I smiled, stroked his cheek, brushed the backs of my fingers across his stubble.

“You’re going to be a star. It might not happen right away but it will happen. And I’ll wait for you. However long it takes.”

Isaac’s eyes fell shut as if he were in pain. He kissed me. “Willow,” he said, like a prayer or wish. He pulled me into the protective ring of his embrace, and we slept.





I dreamt of fire. A candle in the dark, a little light clinging to its wick. As I watched, the light grew and stretched—blue to orange to white—wavering but tall and strong.

And then it exploded in a fiery ball, hot and blinding.

I sat up gasping.

Just a bad dream, I thought.

But not a night terror. I could breathe. I was with Isaac.

I looked down at him. He was so beautiful in sleep, his brow smooth and untroubled. His lashes lay against his cheek, and I traced the line of them. The angular cut of his cheekbone, the hard line of his jaw under rough stubble. His full lips that had touched places I thought no man could touch again.

I thought I was lost, but he brought me back. He allowed me to find my way back to myself.

“Isaac,” I whispered.

“Mm.”

“I need to tell you something.”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry to wake you but it’s important.”

“What do you need to tell me, baby?”

I drew in a breath and let it out. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

His eyes focused. “Willow…”

“I love you. So much. You don’t have to say it back but—”