A Home by the Sea. Christina Skye

from his body. His presence seemed to anchor her.

      She yawned and found herself wondering how his hands would feel on her bare skin. What if he turned and brushed his lips over hers?

      Quickly, the flow of her imagination turned dangerous. She sat up straighter and forced her tangled thoughts away from hot images of Noah kissing her.

      Touching her.

      Impossible. Stiffly, she picked up a pillow and blanket and lay down on the couch. She wasn’t getting involved.

      “Good night, Noah.”

      She heard his soft laugh. “‘Night, Grace. Sleep well.”

      “I will.” She caught back a yawn. “And a friendly warning. This snowball fight of ours isn’t going three rounds. It will only go one.” Grace yawned again and closed her eyes. “I give it about three minutes. And then you are so going down, Noah McLeod,” she murmured.

      As she pulled the blanket around her, Grace felt him slide a second pillow under her head. “Wanna bet?” he whispered.

      SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING.

      Noah stood in the doorway, frowning. He had told her it wasn’t complicated, but that was a lie.

      The complications might have begun when he had seen her all but climb into that Dumpster, oblivious to her elegant evening heels and silk dress. They might have started when she had cradled the hungry kittens, looking fierce and protective. Then she had surveyed his crowded, noisy dining room, and he had seen her face fill with the ache of longing.

      It didn’t make sense, but Noah felt he could read her emotions, even though she worked hard to hide them. To others she would appear cool and controlled, but he saw the way her fingers clenched and her shoulders tightened. She faced life head-on, strong and stubborn, and she loved what she did. He knew that much. But he wanted to know everything about her. And he wanted to share parts of himself he never shared.

      He turned away, angry at the urge to sit across from her. Not to touch, but simply to watch her sleep.

      And that kind of longing was dangerous. The work he did left no room for emotions that could confuse and distract him. When you had three seconds to make a life-or-death choice of half a dozen wires, you had to have a clear mind.

      You had to be able to walk away. That had been Noah’s personal rule for as long as he could remember. It had never been a terrible sacrifice—until now.

      He blew out a quiet breath, listening to the snow at the window. The wind was whining and the noise had disturbed the mother cat, who sat up alertly.

      “It’s okay, Mom. You and the kids are gonna be fine.”

      A sound from the couch made him turn. He caught Grace’s pillow as she shoved it free in her sleep. She was a restless sleeper, twisting under the covers. Several times her lips shaped words that Noah couldn’t understand. Clearly, she was fighting old battles in her sleep.

      Carefully, he slid her pillow back in place, listening to the hiss and pop of the fire. He should have been sleepy, but he was fully alert, aware of every noise and movement in the quiet house. Most of all he was aware of Grace sleeping so close.

      He smelled her faint perfume and heard every breath she took. And the force of his awareness left him irritated.

      A shadow fell over the floor. Noah realized his mother was holding up a dish towel and looking at him from the doorway.

      Quietly, he crossed to the kitchen and closed the door so their noise wouldn’t wake Grace. “Dish duty again?”

      “I’ll dry. You will wash. You’re very good at that. I trained all my sons very well,” Tatiana said with calm pride. “She is nice, Noah. I like her very much. But there is pain in her eyes. What did you say her job was?”

      “I’m still trying to figure that out. I think she writes magazine articles and does historical research on food, but we haven’t gotten that far. I only met her tonight, and that was completely by accident.”

      His mother’s eyes narrowed. “A very wise man once told me there are no accidents. Only fate, my son. It is never wise to fight the touch of fate. But just the same, I hope you will be … safe.”

      “Safe? I don’t understand.”

      Tatiana frowned at him. “Probably not. But I see what I see. I hope you will find the right woman. One who makes your steps light with happiness.”

      “Don’t worry about me. I take the days as they come. No attachments means no regrets.”

      “For now. But not always. Someday I wish …” She touched his cheek and then rolled her eyes. “How like an interfering mother I sound. You will please ignore me.”

      “You’re a hard person to ignore.”

      “That is a very nice thing to say.” Tatiana hesitated. “I had a call from Matthew’s wife today.” She seemed to shape her words carefully. “They will not be coming for New Year’s. They will not be coming here for Valentine’s Day or Easter, either. She told me they’ve purchased a house.”

      “Where? Virginia?”

      “That’s what I thought. But no. Miranda is going to take my granddaughter across the country to Oregon. I had to look it up on a map. So far away. We will never see them.” Tatiana’s voice wavered.

      Noah slid his arm around her trembling shoulders.

      She had hidden her pain all during dinner, he realized. She had put on a good face. Now she could hide it no longer.

      “You should have said something before this.”

      “And ruin our first meal together in weeks? I’m not so weak. I will not let her steal our granddaughter out of our lives. Sophie has the right to know who her father was. How brave your brother was and how strong he was and how hard he worked. To serve and protect. He was so proud of his work,” Tatiana said with husky pride. “Sophie has the right to know her father’s family. And I will fight Miranda to make this so. I swear it with all my heart. She will not take her away and cut us off.” Her voice broke. “I have not told your father, my love. It will break his heart. He loves Sophie so much. His first grandchild,” she whispered.

      “We all love Sophie,” Noah said gruffly. The sadness of losing his brother in the line of fire was still a fresh wound. Now were they to lose all contact with his young daughter? “What about her classes at school? Her friends?”

      “Her mother insists she’ll have an equally good education in Oregon. She has already requested the transfer of Sophie’s files and enrolled her in a private school there. I think—I think that she has planned this for a long time, maybe right after Matthew’s death. But she never gave any clue. Such a woman, she is.” Tatiana took a harsh breath and forced a smile. “She thinks it is for the best perhaps. Maybe … maybe our family reminds her of all she has lost. I know that she did love Matthew once. Before the long hours made her bitter.” Noah’s mother looked at him and shook her head. “I think that Miranda is more worried about herself than anything else.” Tatiana looked away.

      Noah realized that his mother looked tired and frail. The knowledge shocked him. He had always thought that her strength would never fail. She had been the toughest one of his family, steeled by a childhood of deprivation, war and loss.

      But the day that she had lost her youngest son had been a nightmare that would walk with her always. A D.C. policeman, Matt had answered a midnight call and then received the full blast of a car bomb.

      That explosion should have happened to him, Noah thought angrily. He was the one trained to deal with improvised explosive devices, not Matt. His team should have been dispatched to handle the device.

      Due to a misreading of the situation, the wrong agency had been called in.

      And gregarious, optimistic Matthew McLeod had been torn apart by a wall