Heroes Are My Weakness(89)

Now he was angry, but Annie plowed on. “Is it possible you saw your relationship with her as a way to make up for what had happened to Regan? You hadn’t been able to save your sister, but maybe you could save Kenley?”

His lip curled. “That psych degree you got off the Internet sure does come in handy.”

She’d gotten her insights into human psychology in acting workshops dedicated to understanding a character’s deepest motivations. “You’re a natural caretaker, Theo. Have you ever thought that writing might be your rebellion against whatever it is inside you that makes you feel responsible for other people?”

“You’re digging way too deep,” he said harshly.

“Just think about it, okay? If you’re right about Regan, imagine how much she’d hate the way you keep punishing yourself.”

His barely concealed hostility told her she couldn’t push him any further. She’d planted the seeds. Now she had to step back and see if any of them would grow. She walked toward the door. “In case you start to wonder . . . You’re a great guy and a halfway decent lover, but no way would I ever kill myself over you.”

“Comforting.”

“Or lose even a minute’s sleep.”

“Vaguely insulting, but . . . thanks for the clarity.”

“This is the way sane women behave. Tuck that away for future reference.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

The sudden constriction in her chest contradicted her glibness. Her heart ached for him. He hadn’t come to the island to write. He’d come here to do penance for two deaths he believed were his responsibility. Harp House wasn’t his refuge. It was his punishment.


THE NEXT MORNING AS SHE pulled a cereal box from the cupboard, she glanced at the calendar she’d hung on the wall. Thirty-four days down, twenty-six to go. Theo came into the kitchen and told her he had to go to the mainland. “My publisher is driving up from Portland. I’m going to meet with her in Camden and take care of some business. Ed Compton is bringing me back on his boat tomorrow evening.”

She grabbed a bowl. “Lucky you. Streetlights, paved roads, Starbucks—not that I could actually afford Starbucks.”

“I’ll go there for you.” He held up one hand as if he knew she’d object to whatever he was about to say. “I know you’re armed and dangerous, but I’m asking you to stay at Harp House while I’m gone. This is a polite request, not an order.”

He’d tried to take care of Regan and of Kenley, and now he was trying to take care of her. “You’re such a girl,” she said.

He answered that by leaning back on his heels and glaring at her, every inch of him the embodiment of pissed-off masculinity.

“That was a compliment,” she said. “Sort of. The whole nurturing thing you have going . . . ? As much as I appreciate your watchdog attitude, I’m not one of those needy females you tend to collect.”

He gave her his baddest badass sneer. “That whip idea you had . . . I’m liking it more and more.”

She wanted to rip off his clothes and devour him right there. Instead, she sniffed, “I’ll stay at Harp House, girlfriend, just to keep you from worrying.”

Her taunt had its desired effect. He took her right there on the kitchen floor. And it was exhilarating.


AS MUCH AS ANNIE DIDN’T like the idea of sleeping at Harp House, she agreed to appease him. On her way, she stopped to inspect the fairy house. Using sticks, Theo had built a cantilevered balcony over the doorway. He’d also turned a few clamshells on their sides and scattered some of the paving stones, evidence of a late-night fairy frolic. She turned to face the sun. After enduring so much cold weather, she’d never again take a bright winter day for granted.

The fragrance of freshly baked banana bread met her as she stepped into the kitchen. Jaycie was a better baker than cook, and she’d been making these small treats ever since Annie had confronted her about her husband’s death. It was her way of making amends for not confiding her past.

Remnants of construction paper from one of Livia’s art projects lay on the table next to the bread. Annie had spent hours on the Internet delving into articles about deep childhood trauma. When she’d come across information about puppet therapy, she’d been especially intrigued. But it was a specialized field with trained therapists, and the articles had made her even more aware of how much she didn’t know.

Jaycie came into the kitchen. She’d been on crutches for weeks, but she still moved as awkwardly as ever. “I got a text from Theo,” she said. “He’s on his way to the mainland.” Her voice developed an uncharacteristic edge. “I bet you’re going to miss him.”

Annie had criticized Jaycie for not being forthcoming, yet Annie was being equally withholding. But she couldn’t imagine announcing they were lovers. Nothing had changed the fact that she owed Jaycie her life. She thought about the day Regan had pushed her into the marsh. Jaycie had been there, but she’d lagged far enough behind that she must not have seen the actual push.

As the afternoon wore on, Annie’s mood dipped. She’d grown to look forward to being with Theo at the end of the day. And not just for the incredible sex. She simply liked being with him.

Get used to it, Dilly said, in her normal straightforward manner. Your ill-advised love affair is going to be over soon.