by Lori Foster
"Probably."
Cyn's conviction grew, especially since she knew she had her husband's support "When Jamie shows up next time," Cyn said, "and he will, to help Julie with whatever's going on, I'm going to insist he stay and visit. I'm going to insist he accept our friendship."
Bruce pulled her back down and kissed the mulish expression right off her mouth. "Go carefully, honey. Jamie is a grown man with deep secrets that he might need to keep buried. Let him get used to you. And in the meantime, we'll let him know how we feel."
Cyn grinned suddenly. "You know, I've always tried to live in the present, without thinking too much about my future, much less anyone else's. Every day was a reprieve, filled with caution. Now... it's the oddest feeling, but I'm looking forward to growing old with you."
Bruce laughed. "Luckily I married a young woman who has a lot of years to go. I'm going to cherish each and every one."
* * *
Night settled onto the mountains with blackness so thick, so absolute, Jamie couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He sat there in his cabin, his back to the wall, his fireplace cold and empty, no lamps lit. And he tried to focus on the sounds of wildlife that surrounded him, the sounds that usually brought him peace.
He should have given up an hour ago.
But he was a man plagued by turmoil, wanting what he couldn't have.
And he couldn't have friends. Friends would make him weak, would ruin his abilities, and that would put others at risk.
No, he told himself for the tenth time, I can't make friends. But, without even meaning to ... he knew he already had.
And even the dark couldn't tell him what to do about it now.
* * *THE END* * *