Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(24)

“Me? This is the thanks I get for giving up an entire Saturday to help my sister?”

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry. If you’re interested in Gloria, let me know and I’ll see what I can do to set you up—since you’re currently footloose and fancy-free.”

Mack raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Sure. But the truth is, she does look familiar.”

Twelve

Saturday night, Allison Cox was roused from a sound sleep by a tap on her bedroom window. Her clock told her it was almost three. She turned on the small light on her bed stand, tossed aside her down comforter and hurried to the window. Opening the blinds, she peered outside and gasped when Anson smiled at her.

“Let me in,” he mouthed.

She’d be in big trouble if her parents ever found out about this. Although the temptation was almost overpowering, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

He nodded vigorously and rubbed his bare hands together. Then he hunched his shoulders, as if to ward off the wind. His eyes pleaded with her.

“Anson, no.” She shook her head again, trying to convince herself.

He paused, waited a moment and then turned around, not hiding his disappointment.

His willingness to walk away was her undoing. He’d been so good to her, so gentle and sweet. The first time they’d kissed, his goatee had bothered her and the next time she saw him, he’d shaved it off. Allison had been moved by his thoughtfulness. He cared about her more than any other guy ever had. In fact, she liked him a lot—more than she should. Her parents had no idea how often they saw each other because she hid their relationship as much as she could. Even Cecilia had voiced her concern about Anson, and she hadn’t even met him. But Allison knew he wasn’t what he appeared to be. The clothes and attitude were all for show.

Twice now he’d come over in the evenings, and he’d been respectful to her mother and father. That had earned him brownie points with her dad.

“Oh, all right,” she acquiesced and grabbed her housecoat. She threw it over her pajamas, then slid open the window. Leaving him out in the cold was more than she could bear.

Anson crawled into her bedroom, landing on his feet with a solid thump. Thank goodness for her plush carpet, which absorbed much of the sound. His face was red from the cold, and his lips were chapped. He wore his signature black coat, a knit cap pulled low over his ears. His hands were bare. Smiling at her in the dim room, he let his eyes soften and leaned toward her, his mouth shaping hers in a long, hungry kiss. His face felt chilled and his lips, too.

Allison broke off the kiss and clutched her housecoat tighter around her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in an urgent whisper. “Do you know what time it is?”

Anson sat on the carpet, his back against the side of the bed. Allison knelt beside him. “I shouldn’t have come,” he whispered. “It was wrong, I know, but…” He looked down, unable to meet her gaze.

“No, it’s all right,” she said and reached for his hands, warming them between her own. His coat had a peculiar smell. It was as if he’d been standing next to a bonfire and the smoke had clung to him. “What are you doing out at this time of night?”

He kept his head lowered. “I can’t involve you in this.”

“In what, Anson? You can’t involve me in what?” She touched his face, pressing her warm palm to his cheek and was shocked again at how cold his skin was.

Anson covered her hand with his own, then slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. He slid his hand to the nape of her neck and brought her mouth back to his. His kiss was demanding, desperate.

“We can’t do this here…now,” she said, as quietly as she could. It would be easy to let him keep touching her, kissing her, but her father was a light sleeper and the risk was too great. Besides, something was terribly wrong. She felt it, saw it in Anson’s eyes, a wildness that frightened her—and yet she didn’t feel she could desert him.

Once more Anson looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“Tell me what happened,” she insisted. “Where have you been?”

His voice was barely audible. “The park.”

“I thought it was closed. How’d you get in?”

His mouth twisted in a half smile. “All they have is a gate. It’s easy enough to jump over that.”

“Who were you with?” She should’ve realized a gate across the entrance wasn’t going to lock anyone out, least of all Anson and his friends.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Who?” she asked again.

“I was alone, okay?”

A siren pierced the night and Anson scrambled to his knees, crawled close to the window and peered out. “Anson?” Dread wormed its way into her stomach. “What’s going on?”

Again he refused to answer as he crawled back to where she knelt.

“There’s a fire?”

He hesitated and then nodded.

“Does it have anything to do with you?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice trembled. “Yes.”

“Oh, my gosh.” She covered her mouth with both hands as she tried to take in what he was telling her.

“I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. My mother’s got some friend at the house,” he said scornfully, “and I can’t stand to be around when she has a sleepover.” He couldn’t seem to look at her. “The walls between our rooms are thin. I can hear everything.”