"Look, you've done enough waiting and wondering," Jazz admonished. "The last thing you need is knowing he's around and waiting for him to show up at any moment. This needs to be on your terms, not his. You need to go see him, ask him what his deal is, and then get on with your life."

The thought that I should be the one to seek him out surprised me for a moment. But she was absolutely spot on.

I remembered back to the week after Devon showed up on my birthday telling me about Jack, intimating he thought Jack was coming and then the pity on everyone's faces as the days went by and there was still no sign of him. Not that I'd said anything to anyone, but they a.s.sumed. As did I, like the stupid, nave girl I kept proving to be. I a.s.sumed he would at least come back and apologize for the way he left. I shuddered at the memory of that time. I needed to face him and get closure as soon as possible, not sit around with his presence like a ticking-time bomb.

"Right?" Jazz asked.

"Yes," I said firmly. "Right. So call me back when you wake up, I want to know how it's going with 'choco-eyes.' You're good right?"

"Yes, Miss Butler, I'm fine. And we'll be back in time for your art opening at the hotel. Or sooner. Have you found a dress yet?"

"Ugh. No." I grimaced. I decided to slide the sash window up and let the night air flow in through the screen. It slid up with a screech. "I'm supposed to go have lunch with Colt tomorrow, guess I'll deal with finding a c.o.c.ktail dress tomorrow, too."

Just then another movement caught my eye. There was definitely someone standing under ... my stomach dropped, right as my heart lurched up into my mouth. Jack stepped out into the moonlight.

"Uh, Jazz. I gotta go, talk to you tomorrow." I let my hand with the phone slip away from my ear, hopefully hitting "end" with my thumb, and stared out the window down to the lone figure. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, his face tilted up at me.

I sat uncertainly for a few minutes, my pulse skittering, and tried to get a handle on this new development. The soft night breeze wafted in over my bare arms, bringing with it the scent of newly-flowered jasmine.

He wasn't wearing his ball cap, and the breeze ruffled his darker, longer hair.

It seemed laughable now, that I would have waited until tomorrow morning. I c.o.c.ked my head. "You realize this qualifies as seriously creepy."

I thought I saw his mouth lift slightly on one side.

"I couldn't sleep and thought walking would help. And well, I ended up here." Jack shrugged, his hands still wedged in his jeans. His soft, deep voice that I knew so well, that the world knew so well, was a smooth melody over the jagged rasping of the cicadas. "I didn't know you'd be awake."

You just showed back up in my life, how could I be sleeping? I bit down, holding my teeth together to keep from inviting him in. "Why couldn't you sleep?" I asked eventually.

"Why couldn't you?" he returned.

My skin got warm. "I was sleeping." Barely. I imagined I saw his eyes narrow. "But Jazz texted and woke me," I added. Not technically a lie.

Jack nodded, pursing his lips and rocked back on his heels. I could see more details now that my eyes were accustomed to the night and the clouds continued clearing the sky. He was wearing dark jeans and a snug dark t-shirt. His eyes hadn't left me. I reached up and smoothed my hair, tucking an errant strand back in the direction of my messy braid, wondering what on earth I looked like after tossing and turning for the last few hours.

"Stop."

I paused.

"You're beautiful."

Wasn't that just great? My blood pressure rose. I clamped my jaw tight again. My upbringing dictated I thank him, but a wave of anger, no ... make that pure and utter p.i.s.sed-off-ness, almost choked me. "You can't even see me," I snorted. "Nice try. What do you want anyway?"

"I don't need to see you to know you're beautiful."

Well, didn't that knock an oyster out of its sh.e.l.l? What was he playing at? "Seriously, what do you want, Jack? You need someone to buy your groceries or something?" My acidic tone left no doubt about how I felt.

His shoulders moved almost imperceptibly, and I had the thought he'd either let out a long sigh or he was at a loss as to what to say, and was about to give up and turn around. "Can I come in?" he asked so quietly, I almost didn't hear him. "I'd like to talk to you."

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to get lost. But these days I didn't run from uncomfortable situations quite so much. I was fairly certain I wouldn't be sleeping anymore tonight, thinking about the coming conversation I needed to have with him. We may as well get it over with. I shrugged, as nonchalantly as possible, and sighed. "Sure." I stood and slid the window shut, hoping he couldn't see the tremor in my hands from where he was.

I pulled on a lightweight cardigan, and swapped my sleep shorts for some khaki cargo ones that were draped over the chair in my room. I pit-stopped in the bathroom and pulled my hair out of its braid, letting it drape over one shoulder. Then I glared at myself with disgust and hastily sc.r.a.ped it back into an ugly, messy bun. What was wrong with me? I stomped downstairs and went to the entry hall. Taking a deep calming breath and flicking the hall light on, I opened the front door.

Jack was leaning against a pillar at the top of the porch stairs watching me. His arms were folded across his chest, one booted denim-clad ankle crossed over the other, and he made no move to come in. Light spilled out from behind me, casting a warm glow. Dammit, why did he have to be so attractive? I caught his green eyes for a second, which felt like about all I could stand, and then I stepped back to the side looking anywhere but back at him. I waved my arm in a single sweeping gesture into the house and tried to sound bored. "Come on then."

Jack pushed off the pillar and started toward me. My pulse increased in tempo with every step he took, and I swallowed hard over my nerves. I could do this. I really could. I just had to hang on to my anger. It was suddenly very clear how d.a.m.n weak I was. I grit my teeth.

He paused as he got to the closest possible s.p.a.ce in front of me. I made the mistake of glancing at him before resolutely looking at the wall across from me. He was breathtaking. Consequently, I didn't. Breathe. His hair really was darker and longer and curled around his ear. He seemed much less the boyish but intense Jack I knew from before. Now he seemed simply ... intense.

A few elongated and excruciating seconds ticked by, and then he stepped past me and into the house.

Jack Eversea was in my house again. He paused in the hallway and did a slow three sixty turn, his eyes taking everything in and ending on the K A Butler original light fixture above him. His face broke into a small grin, and he nodded as I closed the front door.

By his reaction, I expected him to say something, but he continued appraising the freshly painted walls in pale grey, white moldings, and slip covered furniture I'd sewn from canvas drop cloths. Coupled with the antique pieces that belonged to Nana, it looked amazing, and I'd worked hard to get it there. His eyes dropped to the beautiful warm dark wooden floor beneath our feet. The floor he had tried to pay for me to have refinished. That I still owed him for. Irritation surged through me.

I figured it was safe to look at him since he was staring at the floor. It didn't help. Jack Eversea still flipped my insides over and made me feel like a star struck fan who desperately wanted to know him, but couldn't. In fact, it seemed he was more of a stranger to me right at that moment, than he'd been before I'd actually met him.

It had been seven months since I'd seen him in person. Seven months. "Shouldn't you be having a baby any day now?" I asked before I could stop myself. Wow. I needed to engage my mind with my mouth, and quickly.

His head snapped up, green eyes locking with mine.

"I'm sorry, that was a totally insensitive thing to say." I looked away. Gah, I'd already put myself at a disadvantage in this conversation, and everyone knows your rational mind takes a vacation between two and four in the morning. This idea to talk now, rather than later, was looking dumber by the second. And I couldn't even hold eye contact with him. The weight of his gaze was just too much for me.

"It's fine. I deserved that."

"No. n.o.body deserves a thoughtless comment like that. Especially when I have no idea what ... happened. I'm sorry." I turned and headed for the entrance to the kitchen. We'd stood in this very hallway the night we almost kissed. The night that started it all, and I realized there was the potential for far more than friendship going on between Jack and me. That night, I'd shocked us both by asking him not to kiss me. For what good it did me.

If we stayed in this foyer any longer we would both be reminded, and I didn't need that. He was here to do the overdue it's not you, it's me and my pregnant girlfriend talk that he'd been too cowardly to do properly last time. "Let's get this over with."

Jack followed me into the kitchen. "Let's get what over with?"

Seriously? Hmmm. Where to start? "I get that you're sorry about the way things ended between us, how you handled it or whatever, or that you even got together with me in the first place."

He folded his arms back across his chest again, tilting his head to the side.

I swallowed nervously and busied myself getting us some water. "And I get that you want to spend time here in Butler Cove, and you don't want it to be awkward, having some ex ..." I paused. Lay? Notch? Groupie? I flipped my hand in the air. "Conquest, or whatever, around. But I can promise you I'll stay out of your way. As long as you stay out of mine. We can just agree to be ... friends, or acquaintances that need never interact ever again."

"Are you done?" he asked.

"Actually? No. While you're listening, you should know I'm not pregnant, but thank you for checking on that, by the way." I looked over at him.

Jack went pale, his eyes widening.

It was satisfying.

"What?" There was a protracted silence, and he slumped back against the wall right inside the kitchen door. "But I, we-"

"Used protection? Yeah, I've heard that's always one hundred percent guaranteed." My sarcasm and bitterness was becoming an almost physical thing. I needed to rein that in. It wasn't a comfortable outfit.

Jack unfolded one crossed arm long enough to scrub his hand down his face and blew out a harsh breath. He looked weary. Granted it was the dead of night, but Jack wore a deeper weariness.

To my annoyance, it cracked a tiny piece of the frost I'd encased myself in. I set a gla.s.s of water on the counter in front of him and made my way to the kitchen table, creating some more distance. I didn't want to see the vulnerable Jack again. I couldn't, wouldn't put myself through this again. Thankfully he stayed where he was.

"You asked me what I was doing here. Just now, when I was outside."

"Actually, I asked you what you wanted." I started pulling at a loose thread on the cuff of my cardigan.

"Yeah, that-"

"Do you think this is a good idea? I mean, maybe we should talk tomorrow, if there's anything else to say."

"There's a lot to say."

I met his eyes, waiting for him to continue. As much as I didn't want to look at him, I wanted to see him while he said this. I needed to. I wanted to feel every second of it so I would have no more questions when we were done.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Nothing. I felt nothing.

"It doesn't cut it," he went on. "I realize that. But I'm sorry." Jack left the wall, braced his hands on the island, and hung his dark head for a second, before looking back up at me. "You have to understand something, I didn't stay away because I wanted to. I stayed away because I had to." Jack gritted his teeth and winced imperceptibly. "I know that doesn't mean much to you, and I know you are dating someone else now, but I just needed you to know that. That's all. That's all I came to say."

I gripped my gla.s.s of water tighter at his mention of me dating someone else. I'd been about to lift it and take a sip and his words stopped me cold. I guess he and Colt really did have a big old pow-wow on the side of the highway. Nice.

"I guess you spoke to Colt?" I was neither confirming, nor denying. But as I watched Jack carefully, and took in his tension and the way his hands gripped the counter, I realized I was admitting it. At least as far as he was concerned.

Jack nodded and cleared his throat. "He's a good guy. Cares for you. A lot. That's good."

"I know," I said simply and watched Jack's throat bob as he swallowed. This was fascinating.

"It's a pity for him," he said with an even voice, "that I won't be walking away anytime soon."

My skin went cool, as the blood drained from my head. I think my jaw may have dropped open. I consciously closed my mouth firmly, and pulled my lips in, lest I do something as dumb as gasp. I counted to five in my head and blew a slow breath out. "You already did walk away, Jack."

"Not from you. I never walked away from you. Not willingly."

Okay, so technically Jack Eversea hadn't walked away from me. If we were talking the pure ambulatory mechanism of a person moving from one place to another, and physically removing herself from a room full of tension, then yes, I walked out of Devon's beach house the day Audrey showed up with her pregnancy news. I walked out on him again the night we were all in Savannah, right after he punched Colt in the face. But what else was I supposed to do?

I didn't like the challenge he was throwing down like a threat. His words smacked of the a.s.sumption that if he stayed around it would automatically push Colt out of the running. "Nice to see you're as confident as ever. I'm not some kind of trophy," I said with disgust.

Jack's lip twitched. "G.o.d. The things that come out of your mouth ..." He shook his head, then broke into a tense chuckle. "You're perfect."

Jack Eversea was divinely beautiful, but Jack Eversea laughing and resting his vivid green eyes on me at the same time was a cosmic event. His smile was so sad and beautiful, it pulsed like a solar flare and shattered my crudely mended heart into a million tiny pieces.

"Jack." I recovered then hesitated, unsure of what I wanted to say. "This is pointless. Let's start over. Let's ... be friends who haven't seen each other for a while, and just ... catch up."

I gripped my water and took a sip. Deciding maybe we needed some coffee, I headed back to the kitchen cupboards and glanced over to where he stood, his dimple etched into his cheek and into my heart.

"Okay, I can do that." He nodded, slowly. "I'd like to do that."

I wanted to get it all out tonight and move on, but we could start slow and just talk. A small awkward silence followed. Geez. Where did one begin? So how are all the s.l.u.ts in London? I pulled down two cups and measured out the coffee, freezing in mid-action as I heard and felt Jack move around behind me. The smell of the fresh ground coffee that I normally loved so much was suddenly secondary to the warm spicy scent of the man behind me. He smelled different. Like sandalwood. Decadent.

And the heat ... not for the first time since I met him did I wonder what it was about us that could make him standing this close to me, but not touching, feel so physical, so warm, so ... charged.

His forearms, hard and sinewy with a light dusting of hair, appeared on each side of me. Strong hands with long-fingers braced the counter.

"Please. Don't," I managed. "We're just going to try and be friends, remember?"

"I do. It's just really hard to stand here with you and not touch you." Jack breathed in, and then let out a deep sigh that stirred the hair at my nape.

I faltered with the scoop, dusting coffee over the counter, and closed my eyes a moment.

Then he pushed away and went back around the counter.

s.h.i.t, this was awkward. I relaxed my shoulders and casted about for a topic of conversation. We needed to get onto neutral ground. "So, what was the movie you just made? I heard it was about an artist. Were you the artist?" I asked, trying to sound normal as I turned our coffee on to brew.

"Yeah, I was. I, uh, it was kind of a favor. The actor they'd cast pulled out for personal reasons, and they were stuck without a lead."

I glanced at him over my shoulder then focused on the coffee, willing it to percolate faster. "So you stepped in?"

"I was young for the part, but I kind of ... owed them. The same group that did the Erath movies put money behind it. They had a limited budget, but it's a great story, and I got to work on the script some too, as well as the directing. I'd been looking for a way to do that, prove to them I could."

There was a silence where it seemed Jack wanted to say more. Perhaps about being in England, but that was surely a can of worms. I poured the coffee a few minutes later and handed a cup to Jack, black, the way he liked it, before heading back to the safety of the kitchen table.

"Thanks." Jack blew on his. "Colt told me you got into SCAD, and you're starting in the fall. Congratulations."

Still somewhat safe territory. I nodded. "Yeah, it's amazing. I'm excited and nervous. You and Colt had quite a long talk today, huh?" Why did I do that?

Jack chuckled. "Actually, his exact words were: she's going to SCAD this fall and she doesn't need you distracting her or f.u.c.king up her life again." The smile fell off his face toward the end of his words. "Did I?"

"Did you what?"

"f.u.c.k up your life?"

"Don't give yourself too much credit, Jack. I got off my b.u.t.t and applied to school, got some scholarship money, and was featured at a well-known art gallery. In fact, I'm going to be in another exhibit all summer. So yeah, when you left I was sad that I'd fallen for your Lost Boy routine, but no ... you didn't f.u.c.k up my life. If anything, you galvanized me into doing something. A lot has changed since you left. A lot is better."

Jack's face remained impa.s.sive. "Lost Boy routine," he murmured. "The boy who never grew up. Clever."

I shrugged.

Jack looked up at me and gnawed on his bottom lip. I didn't like having my attention drawn there so I glanced away to the window. The darkness outside bounced this awkward situation back at me like a mirror. I looked down at my sleeve instead.

In my periphery, Jack shifted nervously. "I saw your exhibit in December at the gallery on Hilton Head. Congratulations, it was beautiful."

What? "What do you mean?" I looked up. "You were here? I mean, in the area?" My stomach lurched, the water I'd sipped a few minutes ago burned like acid. He'd been here, back then, when Devon said he was coming, and he hadn't ...? And I hated the way my voice had just gone all high and breathy. "I don't ... I don't understand."

Jack put his cup down and closed his eyes tight, running both hands through his hair, and then gripping the back of his head. His neck and shoulders looked strained with tension before he let go and exhaled a long breath. "Yeah. I came back. I flew into Hilton Head Island and rented a car. I was coming back here. I ... can I sit down?" He pointed to the chair opposite me.

I nodded dumbly and watched his tall frame as he walked over and pulled out a chair, and then hid the lower half of himself beneath the c.h.i.n.ked wooden table.