to pull a skillet from a low cabinet, partly so he could warm up a pat of butter and start the sandwich, and partly so she wouldn’t see the way her sweet expression had affected him.
He didn’t mind helping her out—any decent guy would have done the same—and he was glad to let her stay awhile until the sun came up. He was even happy to make her a much-needed meal. He told himself it was harmless to feel attracted to a too-thin but still gorgeous woman he’d happened upon by some stroke of fate, but what he could not allow was for that attraction to go any further.
From the looks of things, Avery Abbott needed a lot of help, some of which he might even be able to offer, but it was highly unlikely she was looking for a relationship. Not with what she was obviously going through right now.
And Isaac, truth be told, very much wanted one.
He lit the stove and waited for it to heat, finally placing the butter in to melt.
“I haven’t saved anyone,” he said. “They save each other.”
While the butter changed from solid to a sizzling little pool, he put cheese between bread slices and arranged two plates to hold the finished food. Once he’d set the first sandwich in the pan, he chanced another look at her, surprised to see unshed tears shimmering in Avery’s eyes. She rubbed at her lids and he looked away, kicking himself for saying something that might have added any more pain to her already awful night. He wanted to apologize, but wasn’t sure what to say; words had never been his strong suit. He much preferred movement and action, but those weren’t always what was required.
Five minutes later, he plated the sandwiches and brought them, along with two glasses of water, over to the table to join Avery, who smiled up at him as he sat, all traces of moisture gone from those sapphire eyes.
“Thank you for this,” she said softly, “and for everything. I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “What was I supposed to do, leave you out there alone on the side of the road? What kind of man would that make me?” He winked and picked up his sandwich.
That coaxed a little grin out of her, which gave him more satisfaction than it should have.
“I have to say, Mr. Meyer, you do seem like a stand-up guy. Do you make a habit of rescuing lost women in the middle of the night?” she asked, and he had the distinct feeling she was flirting with him a little.
Something fluttered in his belly, and he didn’t think it was hunger.
“I haven’t before,” he answered, “but after tonight, who knows? Maybe I will.”
Avery laughed so hard at that cheesiness that the sip of water she’d just taken almost came out of her nose. Within minutes, they were both laughing like idiots, at what he really couldn’t say.
But it felt good.
After the weirdest night of his life, and after the too-strong sense of relief he now felt seeing that this woman, this soldier, could still laugh despite the things life had thrown her way, it felt good to join her in a moment of ridiculousness. It was almost as if something in his heart had come unknotted.
Even though he knew it was completely irrational, he realized suddenly, with as much certainty and force as one might realize it’s raining as drops hit the ground, that he would do absolutely everything he could to help her get better.
Avery’s heart hammered out a quick rhythm as she opened the back door slowly and with measured care—then winced as it squeaked loudly in protest, as if its intention was to inform the entire house of her...adventures.
She resented feeling like a teenager, sneaking into her brother’s home. Just another reminder that her life as of late was anything but normal. And, oh, how she craved normal.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
Despite its softness, Macy’s greeting caused Avery to gasp and turn around so fast that whiplash wouldn’t have been an implausible outcome.
“Holy goodness, Mace. You scared the living daylights out of me,” Avery said, shoving a hand against her heart. As she leaned back and let her spine rest against the closed door, fighting to catch her breath, she studied her sister-in-law. Macy was, as always, as pretty at the crack of dawn—with her golden hair all messy and the imprint of a pillow seam etched into her cheek—as she had been on her and Tommy’s wedding day. Avery indulged in the memory—a time when everything was simpler, purer—before she’d brought home a personal hell that had begun to seep into all their lives.
“Speaking of daylights,” Macy said quietly, tugging her frayed, pink terry-cloth robe tighter around her waist, “the sun hasn’t even risen and here you are looking like you’ve had quite a night.”
Avery’s lips formed a thin line, but she held Macy’s gaze, despite the temptation to look away from what she saw in the sweet, open face.
“What do you want me to say?”
Macy closed her eyes and then opened them again, sympathy etched into her features. “I just want you to be okay, honey, that’s all. We all do.” She looked as though she might want to touch or hold Avery, but knew better from experience.
Even though the conversation wasn’t anything new, something tugged at Avery’s heartstrings and for a second she longed to just collapse and let it all out—to tell someone how desperately scared she was, how the nightmares kept getting worse, and how she couldn’t always tell the difference between those and the flashbacks. How sometimes she wasn’t sure whether she was awake or asleep.
But something else, something strange and new, told her this wasn’t the time or place...but that maybe she was getting close to being able to do just that...and that maybe Isaac was that place. As Macy waited for an answer to the questions she hadn’t voiced out loud but were always there, Avery thought back to the man she’d met that morning.
Even under the strange circumstances that brought them together last night, he had been so calm, so sturdy and safe, like a lighthouse in a raging storm. He’d taken care of her without hesitation, and for some reason she knew he would have done the same for any wayward creature.
He was the embodiment of that most rare and beautiful thing, something Avery had seen precious little of over the past few years: basic human kindness.
“Well, now, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Macy said, a giggle bubbling up around her words. “You want to tell me what has you smiling like that, or is it a secret?”
Avery, disbelieving, reached up and touched a finger to her lips, realizing only upon feeling their upward curve to what her sister-in-law referred. Before she could form a response, Macy’s eyes lit up and her mouth opened wide.
“Oh, my gosh, Avery,” she blurted. “Were you—” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward “—were you...with a guy?”
“No!” Avery spat, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. She winced. “Well, technically, yes, but it’s not what it seems.” She held her palms out, hoping for emphasis.
Macy eyed her with blatant skepticism. “Yeah,” she said, grinning,
