Strong Enough(38)

The thought of that brings an ache to my chest. Who or what could hurt a person to that degree? And why would I be so drawn to that?

Probably because I embrace feelings, all of them, and I suspect that he is a well of feelings. Raw and untapped feelings. The kind that could flatten a girl like a category-five hurricane. But also the kind that could make survival the most rewarding thing in all of life.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this guy is just a cold, sneaky womanizer, albeit a fairly honest one. Maybe I’ll regret getting involved with him. Maybe. But there’s a small yet powerful part of me that says maybe I won’t. And would I really want to risk missing out on something amazing, if that’s what it turned out to be?

No, I wouldn’t. Because feelings are what happen when you’re alive. They’re what make life worth living, good or bad. It’s pain that makes pleasure so poignant. It’s tears that make laughter so valuable. It’s hate that makes love so important. And for this man, this gorgeous, strong, enigmatic man, maybe I could be the difference between them all. And maybe, in the meantime, he’ll trust me enough to tell me some of his secrets.

“Where are we going?” I ask when the tires drop off the paved road onto a narrow gravel path that leads through increasingly dense forest.

“Some place safe.”

“How much longer?”

“Not far.”

I sigh. He’s so damn vague sometimes that I wanna stab myself in the eye. At least it’s not as frustrating as it has been. I guess I’m starting to expect it.

He meant it when he said not far. Less than ten minutes later, the road ends in a driveway that pulls up to a smallish A-frame cabin with what looks like a wraparound porch. A stone chimney splits the side facing us, softly illuminated by a tall, fading dusk-to-dawn light that looks like it belongs on a wharf.

“Where are we?” Before Jasper can answer, I preempt him. “And don’t say ‘someplace safe.’”

“Isn’t that the most important thing?”

I glance over at him, his face brightly lit by the interior light that popped on when I opened my door. My heart stutters for a second, as though it might never get used to the handsome perfection of his honey eyes and bronze skin. He’s beautiful. Beautiful and powerful and dangerous.

“Safety?” I ask. Something about his expression, about what happened at Dad’s, about everything that’s happened with him thus far, tells me that he’s asking so much more than the obvious. “Not always.”

“No?” One dark brow shoots up, making him look daringly sexy, like in a James Bond kind of way. The kind of way that says he’ll crush me, but I’ll never be able to fully regret such an amazing ride, no matter how many things get broken. Yes, it makes me a little nervous. Yes, I dread the fallout, but I’m also looking forward to knowing him. At all. In any way, physical or otherwise. Something inside me wants desperately to be close to him, to touch him and soothe him, to be touched by him. Maybe I’m crazy, but if I am, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. “What’s more important than safety?”

“Making a life, making the choices, having the things that are worth keeping safe. Those things are more important. If not for them, what would be worth saving?”

He studies me in that way he has, that way that makes me think he’s mentally stripping me down to nothing, able to hide not even the tiniest secret from his knowing eyes. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

I tilt my head to the side and consider him right back. “That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, Jasper King.”

“Then maybe I can cheer you up. And you can show me the important things.”

Something about this moment, this place, this dark, quiet night, makes me feel like the world is a lifetime away, and that it’s just us up here. Alone. No troubles. No appointments. Nothing but each other and what could be.

If only . . .

“I’d like that very much.”

I can’t hide the smile that curves my lips. It comes from too deep inside me.

—

Enchantment, Georgia. This is what Jasper calls “safe” and I’m inclined to agree with him. It feels remote here, secluded. Intimate. It also feels enchanting, making the name seem apropos. But that might just be me and my attitude.

I’m unpacked in my room. I have no idea how long I’ll be here, so I just took out what things I brought and put them into the cedar drawers of the neat, rustic chest that’s in my room. When I’m done, I know I’m too restless to sleep, so I set off to explore. And maybe find Jasper. It seems that no matter what else is going on, what else I’m thinking of, he’s there. There in the back of my mind, seeping into the front. Drawing me to him . . . always drawing me to him.