Bj James - Night Music

Compelling, extraordinary, and unstudied. It hadn’t taken long to understand that nothing about Devlin was calculated. How he looked, how he talked, the frisson of sexual tension he exuded, were natural. Part and parcel of a man who would be irresistible…if she’d met him in another time, another place. If both hadn’t brought the inescapable baggage of terminal grief along with them.

Watching as he spooned a colorful array of fruits into brandy snifters, then topped each with a bit of cream, she wondered when and where he’d learned to be so creative in the kitchen.

Had he been married? Was he still?

Of course not. Kate was certain there was no woman in Devlin O’Hara’s life. But had there been? Had he lost someone beloved? Did that explain the grief she saw in him? And, perchance, his palms?

He made no effort to hide the scars, but something in his demeanor warned discussion was off limits. As someone with her own secret hurts, Kate would never pry. When, or if, he wanted her to know, he would tell her. She would not question, until then.

Or never. He’d said he would stay for a while. For all she knew, “for a while” meant only this day.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “You don’t like mimosas?

“I beg your pardon?” Kate was so engrossed in her thoughts, she only half heard him.

“You were frowning. I asked if there’s something wrong.”

Kate sat a little straighter, improvising. “Only that I’m sitting like a dolt, when I should help.”

“No help needed.” His piercing gaze traced the lines of her face. “You’re too lovely to be a dolt. So, sit in the sun. Rest while I finish, then we’ll share our first meal.”

“I am rested.” With the flush of his compliment on her cheeks, she knew it was true. “More rested than in a long time.”

“No dreams last night? Or only good ones?”

The question surprised her, making her wonder how he could know she dreamed, and in those dreams faced her demons night after night. But as quickly, she knew he asked because it was the same for him. Devlin had his own battle in the dark. But the lasting surprise was her recollection that it was Devlin who strolled through her dreams, smiling his half smile and teasing, then disappearing into a glittering moonlit sea.

“I dreamed,” she admitted. “But only good ones.”

Circling the table he set her salad in place. As he leaned near her, his fingers curled briefly over hers. “Any night without the troubles that stalk us is a good night, isn’t it, Kate?”

Looking at him, golden gaze meeting blue, with his clean scent a part of every breath, the beat of her heart thundered in her veins. He was so close, she saw the creases radiating from his eyes. Laugh lines. The mark of a man who once had enjoyed life. A man who understood her, for the life he lived now was the same.

Though he was a stranger who had appeared on her doorstep, she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. But she hadn’t the right. “A night without troubles is a gift I don’t deserve.”

“I doubt that,” Devlin countered gently, then said no more, for it wasn’t time. They were moving too fast. One wrong step and doors that opened a sliver would close to him forever. “Enough serious stuff. Agreed, Lady Golden Eyes?”

The silly name drew a reluctant smile. “Agreed.”

“Then, one last touch and breakfast is served.” Drawing a flower from Tessa’s bouquet, he snapped the stem and tucked the creamy blossom in her hair. “A pretty flower for a pretty lady.”

His hand lingered at her cheek in a caressing touch. So much in his life was harsh and unforgiving, he only wanted to feel a bit of softness. Just a bit.

“Kate.”

“Devlin?”

She’d never said his name like that. Never called him simply Devlin. He wanted to hear it again and again in that low, calm voice while the sun and the sea spun their magic around her.

“When I came, I didn’t intend to stay. I promised myself one night…” He faltered over the half-truth. Devlin who never lied, who never feared anything, was afraid he would hurt her. Afraid his presence would ruin the island for her and destroy the little contentment she’d found.

“The island is a pretty, peaceful place. I’ve seen a lot of the world, yet I didn’t expect what I found here. Even so, I won’t intrude, I won’t stay, Kate. If you don’t want me here.”

She waited through his little speech, hearing words of praise she’d said when she first came. She heard him voice the fears she’d felt when Jericho warned of a stranger in her paradise.

She knew Devlin would go, if she asked. Yesterday, it would have been what she wanted. Now she heard herself saying, “Summer Island is big enough for two. Our paths needn’t cross.”

Devlin pretended nonchalance. “I suppose not.”

“But today they have, thanks to neighborly kindness.”

“This was presumptuous. Rummaging through your supplies and food. Dragging out table linens. Robbing a superb wine cellar.”

“Letting good food go to waste,” Kate added to his list. “With generously shared coffee growing cold. Sit down, Devlin. What you’ve done is not an intrusion. Yes, I’ve had the island to myself, but it isn’t mine, you know.”

“Two isn’t a crowd?”

“Let’s take it one day at a time, and see how it goes.”

“Then I’ll stay, Kate. One day at a time.”

Devlin sat across from her. Listening as she told him of the island creatures and their habits, he discovered she hadn’t spent her reclusive life moldering. She was observant, well read. Well versed, even expert, in the history of the area.

“Once Summer Island was called after Stede Bonnet?” he prompted, to hear her speak, to listen to softly elegant tones.

“This was Bonnet’s hunting ground. Anchoring on the backside of the island, the gentleman pirate waited for his prey. Hopefully, he was a better gentleman than a pirate. After he was hanged in Charleston, the name was forgotten. Now some call it Summer Island. To others, though there are dozens of islands scattered along this coastline, it’s simply the island.” Grimacing, she said, “That’s enough instruction for one day.”

“You make it interesting.”

“And you’re a gentleman and a liar.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I treasure the compliment.”

They drifted into a companionable silence, broken only by the clatter of palmettos catching a breeze. Kate was first to speak. “There were whales off the point day before yesterday. They don’t come often. When they do, they stay for some time. I’ll show you the best dune for observing, if you like.”

She offered it like a gift. Rising to go to her, drawing her from her own chair and keeping her hand in his, Devlin murmured, “I’d like that. I’d like it very much.”

The reclusive Kate had reached out. But he wasn’t fooled. With the sea at their feet and an autumn sun to warm them, a man and a woman who were more than strangers, but not yet friends, might spend a pleasant morning walking the beach. But there would be dark times ahead for both of them. Times when Denali came for him in his dreams. Times when Kate fought her demons and herself with night music.

But someday, for Kate, there would be times of peace.

A sharp report splintered the air, followed by a rapid barrage impacting like gunshots against Kate’s ears. Recoiling instinctively, she tumbled from her seat, a paperback novel flying from her lap. Crouching on the weathered dock, she braced for more.

But there was no more. Quiet settled over a peaceful day as if it had never been broken. A flock of ibis, erupted from the limbs of a bald cypress by the first battering sound, began to return. Croaking raucously in a show of indignation, each perched precariously again in a great flap of wings and flying feathers. Once settled, wings tucked, feathers soothed, only their low grousing and the lazy lap of the river marked the passage of the day.