Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (Sunset Cove #3)(64)
“I’m not going to hurt you, Kate.” He wanted to kiss her again, but he was afraid of scaring her. This was moving so fast, faster than his own comfort level could handle. Was it because of the danger they were going through together?
He reached down and grabbed the fluffy white throw, then tucked it around her. “You can take the big bed, and I’ll take the rollaway here in the living room.”
Her big blue eyes looked into his soul. “I’m not a bit sleepy.”
“I’m not either. We could cuddle on the sofa.” He grinned when she colored again.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to make of you. You scare me, Drake.”
“You scare me, Kate. I think love is supposed to feel this way.” Her eyes widened at the word, and his own heart clenched when he said it, but it was what he was feeling. “You feel it, too, don’t you? I love you. It’s fast, I know, but I’m sure. Aren’t you?”
She nodded and tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t want to love you.”
His fingers touched her chin, and he tipped her head up. “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with falling in love.”
“You don’t understand.” Tears began to roll down her face, and she swiped at them impatiently. “I’m doing this all wrong. I should have told you sooner. Claire told me to tell you weeks ago when she saw how attracted to you I was.” Jackson whined and got up to press his head against her knee.
His gut clenched at the sadness in her voice. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I want to wake up to your smile every morning and see your face across from me at the breakfast table. I want to grow old with you by my side and our kids all around. I think you want that too.”
“That’s just the point!” Her words sounded loud in the quiet room. “I can’t have kids, Drake. The chemo ruined my ovaries. I’m barren now.”
He blinked as the perfect dream world he’d been living in popped like an overfilled water balloon. “I see.” He glanced over her shoulder into the open bedroom where his nieces slept. “We have Phoebe and Emma though. And we could adopt more children.”
She backed away and shook her head. “You’re just saying that now so you don’t hurt me. I know how important children are to you. You’ve talked about it a lot.”
He had talked about it, had made assumptions. And while the news took him aback, it didn’t change how he felt about her. When he reached for her, she stepped away and ran to the other bedroom. She let Jackson in and the lock clicked on the other side.
He rattled the doorknob. “Let me in, Kate. It doesn’t make any difference.” When she didn’t answer, he raked his hand through his hair and blew out a breath.
She was tired. He’d let her sleep and convince her in the morning.
*
Kate opened the door to the balcony and stepped out under the moonlight. She didn’t want to hear him call her name again. She couldn’t make any kind of decision about a relationship with Drake until she figured out who was trying to scare her. Her brain cried out for careful thought.
She pulled a chair and small table closer to the railing and stared out on the mesmerizing scene of waves rolling to the rocky shoreline. The lights of a distant boat went by, and the moon was huge over the water. She heard the dog shuffle behind her—his nails clicked on the concrete as he came to join her.
Such serenity should help her think. She opened the notebook she’d dug from her purse and took out a pen. She began to list all the events of the summer. The bodies she’d found, the Peeping Tom, the break-ins, her uncle’s escape, the trophy bag found in her blueberry field, the chocolate in the picnic basket, the breather call, and the photographs. Staring at the list, she saw no correlation at first. Then she began to draw lines of connection between them, and the truth made her straighten and gasp.
Her uncle hadn’t done all the things she’d thought.
She’d tried to believe the more serious things had been committed by her uncle, but there was no clear correlation between him and the things that had terrified her the most—like the chocolate and the photographs. The most logical link was between the Peeping Tom, the trophy bag, the chocolate, the breather call, and the photographs. This would indicate that whoever was watching women had fixated on her. No way had her uncle done them.
Then who? She looked out over the lights of Folly Shoals and thought about it. Everything seemed to center on that trophy bag of jewelry. The possessions of several young women were in that assortment.
There’s a stalker in the area.
He wasn’t just targeting her, but other women too. And he’d go on with it if no one forced him into the open. Whitney might have been his first kill, but she wouldn’t be his last. The next one could be her or Claire. Or one of her friends at church. Was she just going to stand by and let the guy do whatever he wanted, or was she going to put an end to this?
Fear wasn’t a condition she was okay to live with. She was going to drag that man out into the light and expose him. And the only way to do that was to be a target. In the morning she would call Danny and tell him she would be a decoy.
Drake wouldn’t like it. For the first time since she came out under the stars, she let herself think about what Drake had just said. Did her inability to have children really matter so little to him, or was he trying not to hurt her feelings? She let herself linger on how he’d looked when he admitted he loved her. What if the situation were reversed, and he couldn’t have children? Would she love him less?