When he said no more, she thought she saw a shadow of doubt cross his face.

"It's okay," she offered. "It's none of my business, anyway."

He shook his head and forced a smile. "You were close the first time," he said. "I was married. And divorced."

Expecting far worse, she almost laughed aloud in relief, but his somber expression restrained her.

"Her name was Maria. We were fire and ice at first, and no one could understand what we saw in each other. But once you got past the surface, we shared the same values and beliefs about all the big things in life. Including our desire for children. She wanted four, I wanted five." He hesitated when he saw her expression. "I know that's a lot of kids these days, but it was something we were both used to. Like me, she'd come from a large family." He paused. "We didn't know there was a problem right away, but after six months, she still wasn't pregnant, and we went in for some routine tests. She turned out to be fine, but for whatever reason, it turned out that I wasn't. No reason given, no answer possible. Just one of those things that sometimes happen to people. When she found out, she decided she didn't want to stay in the marriage anymore. And now . . . I mean, I love my family, I love spending time with them, but when I'm there, I'm always reminded of the family that I'll never be able to have. I know that sounds strange, but I guess you'd have to be me to understand how much I wanted kids."

When he finished, Lexie simply stared at him, trying to make sense of what he'd just told her. "Your wife left you because you found out that you couldn't have kids?" she asked.

"Not right away. But in the end, yes."

"And there was nothing the doctors could do?"

"No." He seemed almost embarra.s.sed. "I mean, they didn't say it was utterly impossible for me to have a child, but they made it clear that it would most likely never never happen. And that was enough for her." happen. And that was enough for her."

"What about adoption? Or finding a donor? Or . . ."

Jeremy shook his head. "I know it's easy to think she was heartless, but it wasn't like that," he said. "You had to know her to fully understand. She grew up thinking that she'd be a mother. After all, her sisters were all becoming mothers, and she would have been a mother, too, if it wasn't for me." He glanced up toward the ceiling. "For a long time, I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to think I was defective, but I was. And I know it sounds ridiculous, but after that, I just felt like less of a man. Like I wasn't worthy enough for anyone."

He shrugged, his voice growing more matter-of-fact as he went on. "Yeah, we could have adopted; yeah, we could have found a donor. I suggested all of that. But her heart wasn't in it. She wanted to be pregnant, she wanted to experience childbirth, and it went without saying that she wanted it to be her husband's. After that, things started going downhill. But it wasn't just her. I changed, too. I was moody . . . I started traveling even more for my work . . . I don't know . . . maybe I drove her away."

Lexie studied him for a long moment. "Why are you telling me all this?"

He took a sip of his beer and scratched at the label on the bottle again. "Maybe it's because I want you to know what you're getting into with someone like me."

At his words, Lexie felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She shook her head and turned away.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"What makes you think I don't mean them?"

Outside, the wind began to pick up, and she heard the faint tones of the wind chime near the door.

"Because you don't. Because you can't. Because it's not who you are, and it has nothing to do with what you just told me," she said. "You and I . . . we're not the same, as much as you want to think we are. You're there, I'm here. You have a big family that you see frequently, I only have Doris, and she needs me here, especially now, considering her health. You like cities, I like small towns. You have a career you love, and I . . . well, I have the library and I love that, too. If one of us is forced to change what we have, what we've chosen to make of our lives . . ." She closed her eyes briefly. "I know that's possible for some people to do, but it's a hard row to hoe when it comes to building a relationship. You said yourself that the reason you fell in love with Maria was because you shared the same values. But with us, one of us would have to sacrifice. And if I don't want to have to sacrifice, I don't think it's fair to expect you to sacrifice, either."

She lowered her gaze, and in the ensuing stillness, he could hear the clock above the fireplace ticking. Her lovely face was clouded with sadness, and he was suddenly gripped by the fear that he might be losing any chance he had with her. Reaching over, he used his finger to turn her cheek toward him.

"What if I don't think it's a sacrifice?" he said. "What if I tell you that I'd rather be with you than go back to my old life?"

His finger felt electric against her skin. Trying to ignore the sensation, she held her voice steady.

"Then I would tell you that I've had a wonderful time in the last couple of days, too. That meeting you has been . . . well, amazing. And that yes, I'd like to think that there was some way to make this work. And that I'm flattered."

"But you don't want to try to make this work."

Lexie shook her head. "Jeremy . . . I . . ."

"It's okay," he said, "I understand."

"No," she said, "you don't. Because you heard what I said, but you didn't listen. It means that, of course, I'd like it to work between us. You're intelligent and kind and charming . . ." She broke off, hesitating. "Okay, maybe you're a little too forward at times . . ."

Despite the tension, he couldn't help laughing. She went on, choosing her words carefully.

"The reason I'm saying this is that the last two days have been incredible, but I have things in my past that left me wounded, too," she said. Quickly and calmly, she told him about Mr. Renaissance. When she finished, she looked almost guilty. "Maybe that's why I'm trying to be practical about this. I'm not saying that you'll disappear like he did, but can you honestly say that we'll feel the same way about each other if we have to travel to spend time together?"

"Yes," he said, his voice firm. "I can."

She looked almost sad at his answer. "You can say that now, but what about tomorrow? What about a month from now?"

Outside, the wind made a whistling sound as it moved around the cottage. Sand blew against the windows, and the curtains swayed as the air forced its way through the old panes.

Jeremy stared at Lexie, realizing once again that he loved her.

"Lexie," he said, his mouth going dry. "I . . ."

Knowing what he was going to say, she raised her hands to stop him. "Please," she said. "Don't. I'm not ready for that yet, okay? For now, let's just enjoy dinner. Can we do that?" She hesitated before gently setting her bottle of beer on the table. "I should probably go check on it and get the linguine going."

With a sinking feeling, Jeremy watched as she rose from the couch. Pausing in the doorway of the kitchen, she turned around to face him.

"And just so you know, I think what your ex-wife did was terrible and she's nowhere near as great as you tried to make her out to be. You don't leave your husband for something like that, and the fact that you can say anything kind about her at all says that she's the one who made the mistake. Believe me-I've seen what it takes to be a good parent. Having kids means taking care of them, raising them, loving and supporting them, and none of those things have anything to do with who makes them one night in the bedroom or the experience of being pregnant."

She turned in the direction of the kitchen, vanishing from sight. He could hear Billie Holiday singing "I'll Be Seeing You" on the radio. With his throat tightening, Jeremy rose to follow her, knowing that if he didn't seize the moment, it might never come again. Lexie, he suddenly understood, was the reason he'd come to Boone Creek; Lexie was the answer he'd been looking for all along.

He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching as she set another pot on the stove.

"Thank you for saying what you said," he said.

"You're welcome," she responded, refusing to meet his eyes. He knew she was trying to remain strong in the face of the same emotions he was experiencing, and he admired both her pa.s.sion and her reserve. Yet he took a step toward her, knowing he had to take a chance.

"Will you do me a favor?" he asked. "Since I might not make it tomorrow night," he said, reaching out his hand, "would you mind dancing with me?"

"Here?" She looked up, startled, her heart racing. "Now?"

Without another word, he moved closer, taking her hand in his. He smiled as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers before lowering it into position. Then, with his eyes locked on hers, he slipped his other arm around her back and gently pulled her toward him. As his thumb began to gently trace the skin of her hand and he whispered her name, she found herself beginning to follow his lead.

The melody played softly in the background as they began to rotate in slow circles, and though she felt embarra.s.sed at first, she finally leaned into him, relaxing into the warmth of his body. His breath warmed her neck, and as his hand tenderly skimmed her back, she closed her eyes and leaned further into him, dropping her head onto his shoulder and feeling the last of her resolve slip away. This, she realized, was what she had wanted all along, and in the tiny kitchen, they moved in rhythm to the gentle music, each of them lost in the other.

Beyond the windows, the waves continued to roll, washing toward the dune. The cold wind whistled around the cottage, vanishing into the ever-blackening evening. Dinner simmered quietly on the stove.

When at last she lifted her head to meet his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her. He brushed his lips against hers once, and then twice, before pressing them close. After pulling back slightly to make sure she was okay, he kissed her again, and she kissed him back, reveling in the strength of his arms. She felt his tongue against hers, the moisture intoxicating, and brought a hand to his face, tracing the stubble on his cheek. He responded to her touch by kissing her cheek and neck, his tongue hot against her skin.

They kissed in the kitchen for a long time, both of them savoring the other without hurry or urgency, until Lexie finally pulled back. She turned off the burner behind her, then, taking his hand again, she led him back to her bedroom.

They made love slowly. As he moved above her, he whispered how much he loved her and breathed her name like a prayer. His hands never stopped moving, as if proving to himself that she was real. They stayed in bed for hours, making love and laughing quietly, savoring each other's touch.

Hours later, Lexie rose from the bed and slipped into a bathrobe. Jeremy put on his jeans, and joining her in the kitchen, they finished cooking dinner. After Lexie had lit a candle, he stared at her over the small flame, marveling at the lingering flush of her cheeks, as he devoured the most delicious meal he'd ever tasted. For some reason, the act of eating together in the kitchen, him shirtless and her naked beneath the thin robe, seemed almost more intimate than anything else that had happened that night.

Afterward, they went back to bed, and he pulled her close, content to simply hold her. When Lexie eventually fell asleep in his arms, Jeremy watched her sleep. Every now and then, he brushed the hair from her eyes, reliving the evening, remembering it all, and knowing in his heart that he'd met the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

Just before dawn, Jeremy woke and realized that Lexie was gone. He sat up in bed, patted the covers as if to make sure, then hopped out of bed and put on his jeans. Her clothes were still on the floor, but the bathrobe she'd worn during dinner was gone. Snapping his jeans, he shivered slightly in the chill and crossed his arms as he made his way down the hall.

He found her in the easy chair near the fireplace, a cup of milk on the small table beside her. In her lap was Doris's notebook, opened near the beginning, but she wasn't looking at it. Instead, she was gazing out the dark window toward nothing at all.

He took another step toward her, the floorboards squeaking underfoot, and she started at the sound. When she saw him, she smiled.

"Hey there," she said.

In the dim light, Jeremy sensed that something was wrong. He sat on the armrest beside her and slipped his arm around her.

"Are you okay?" he murmured.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm okay."

"What are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "And besides, we have to be up in a little while to catch the ferry."

He nodded, though he wasn't completely satisfied by her answer.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," she said.

"Are you sorry about what happened?"

"No," she said, "it's not that, either." She didn't, however, add anything else, and Jeremy pulled her closer, trying to believe her.

"It's an interesting book," he said, not wanting to press her. "I hope to spend a bit of time with it later."

Lexie smiled. "It's been a while since I've looked through it. Seeing it here brings back memories."

"How so?"

She hesitated, then pointed down at the open page in her lap. "When you were reading it earlier, did you get to this entry?"

"No," he answered.

"Read it," she said.

Jeremy read the entry quickly; in many ways, it seemed identical to the others. The first names of the parents, the age, how far along the woman was in her pregnancy. And the fact that the woman would have a girl. When he finished, he looked at her.

"Does it mean anything to you?" she asked.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," he admitted.

"The names Jim and Claire don't mean anything to you?"

"No." He scrutinized her face. "Should they?"

Lexie lowered her eyes. "They were my parents," she said, her voice quiet. "This is the entry that predicted I would be a girl."

Jeremy raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"That's what I was thinking about," she said. "We think we know each other, but you didn't even know the names of my parents. And I don't know the names of your parents."

Jeremy felt a knot beginning to form in his stomach. "And that bothers you? That you don't think we know each other that well?"

"No," she said. "What bothers me is that I don't know if we ever will."

Then, with a tenderness that made his heart ache, she wrapped her arms around him. For a long time, they sat in the chair holding each other, both of them wishing they could stay in that moment forever.

Sixteen.

So this is your friend, huh?" Lexie asked.

She gestured discreetly to the holding cell. Although Lexie had lived in Boone Creek all her life, she'd never had the privilege of visiting the county jail-until today.

Jeremy nodded. "He's not normally like this," he whispered back.

Earlier in the morning, they had packed their belongings and closed up the beach cottage, each reluctant to leave it behind. But when they drove off the ferry in Swan Quarter, Jeremy's cell phone picked up enough signal strength to retrieve his messages. Nate had left four of them about the upcoming meeting; Alvin, on the other hand, had left a frantic one saying that he'd been arrested.

Lexie had dropped Jeremy off at his car, and he'd followed her back to Boone Creek, worried about Alvin, but worried about Lexie as well. Lexie's disconcerting mood, which had started in the predawn darkness, had continued for the next few hours. Though she hadn't pulled away when he slipped his arm around her on the ferry, she'd been quiet, gazing at the waters of the Pamlico Sound. When she smiled, it was only a flicker, and when he took her hand, she didn't squeeze his. Nor would she talk about what she'd said to him earlier; strangely, she spoke instead about the numerous shipwrecks off the coast, and when he did try to steer the conversation toward more serious issues, she either changed the subject or didn't answer at all.

Meanwhile, Alvin was languishing in the county jail, looking-to Lexie's eyes, at least-like he belonged there. Dressed in a black Metallica T-shirt, leather pants and jacket, and a studded wristband, Alvin was staring at them with wild eyes, his face flushed. "I mean, what the h.e.l.l kind of a cracker town is this? Does anything normal ever happen here?" He'd been going on in this vein from the moment Lexie and Jeremy arrived, and his knuckles were white as he squeezed the iron bars. "Now, can you please please get me out of here?" get me out of here?"

Behind them, Rodney stood scowling, his arms crossed, ignoring Alvin as he had been for the last eight hours. The guy whined way too much, and besides, Rodney was far more interested in Jeremy and Lexie. According to Jed, Jeremy hadn't come back to his room last night, and Lexie hadn't been at home, either. It could have been a coincidence, but he strongly doubted that, which meant they'd most likely spent the night together. Which wasn't good at all.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Jeremy said, not wanting to rile Rodney any further. He'd seemed downright angry when Jeremy and Lexie showed up. "Tell me what happened."

"What happened?" Alvin repeated, his voice rising. His eyes took on a crazed look. "You want to know what happened? I'll tell you what happened! This whole place is nuts, that's what happened! First, I get lost trying to find this stupid town. I mean, I'm driving down the highway, pa.s.s a couple of gas stations, and keep going, right? Since there doesn't seem to be a town? And the next thing you know, I'm lost in the middle of a swamp for hours. I don't find the town until almost nine o'clock. And then you'd think someone could give me directions to Greenleaf, right? I mean, how hard could it be? Small town, the only place to stay? Well, I get lost again! And that's after some guy at the gas station talks my ear off for half an hour-"

"Tully," Jeremy said, nodding.

"What?"

"The guy you talked to."

"Yeah, whatever . . . so I finally get to Greenleaf, right? And the gigantic hairy guy there isn't exactly friendly and sort of gives me the evil eye, hands me your note, and sticks me in this room with all these dead animals-"

"All the rooms are like that."