Page 50 of Escape to Lighthouse Cove

“So should we have pizza again,” she asked, trying to sound cheerful, “or I could whip up some pasta at the lodge?” Was it presumptuous, to assume they’d have dinner together? They’d done something together after every chess lesson over the last week, so she told herself it wasn’t. Plus, that kiss.

Noah glanced between them both, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Um, maybe a rain check tonight?” he suggested without looking either of them in the eye. “I’m kind of…” He didn’t bother to finish that sentence, and Grace decided not to make him.

“Okay,” she replied as equably as she could. They needed to talk about that kiss, but maybe Noah needed time to process it. Maybe she did. In any case, Grace decided, she was going to be mature about this. “Another time,” she said quietly, and Noah shot her a quick, searching look before turning away. “Another time,” she said again, this time firmly to Jacob. “I think tonight it’s you and me, bud, with chicken nuggets and a checkers marathon. How does that sound?”

Jacob nodded eagerly, and Grace was glad he wasn’t too disappointed. She knew how much he liked spending time with Noah… maybetoomuch, if Noah wasn’t going to be in their lives long term.

Ten minutes ago, she might have wondered—hoped, even—that he might be. Now she wasn’t so sure. From the look on his face, he was seriously regretting that kiss. He looked torn, and unhappy, and like he wanted them to leave.

Well, fine then, they would.

“We should go,” she said, a little abruptly, and Noah looked even more torn.

“Grace—” he began but then didn’t say anything more.

Holding Jacob’s hand, Grace walked out of Jem’s bedroom. After a few seconds, Noah followed, closing the door behind him with a soft click. She got their coats, Noah following them, and then headed downstairs. Noah still had said nothing, but Grace still sensed his misery and wondered how and when things had gone so wrong. Had it been the kiss, or finding Jacob in Jem’s room, stirring up all sorts of memories? Both, neither?

Did it even matter?

It wasn’t until they’d reached the front door, Noah still silent, that Grace decided she needed to say something. Jacob had gone ahead a little, holding the umbrella, splashing in puddles and soaking his jeans.

“It’s okay,” Grace said quietly, her gaze steady on his face, “if you don’t want to do anything about that kiss. It was just a kiss, after all.” It hurt to say that, because it had felt like so much more to her, but she appreciated that really that was all it had been.

Maybe.

“It’s not that…” Noah said in a low voice. “But remember what I said before?—”

“About not wanting to hurt me?” Grace filled in. “Yes, I remember that.” It was hard not to.

“That hasn’t changed,” Noah told her, and she felt something in her sink, because she’d thoughtsomethinghad changed, at least.

“Okay,” she said after a moment. Jacob was stomping in puddles, sending up arcs of muddy water. He’d need a bath when they got back. “I understand,” she told Noah. She met his gaze squarely. “But just make sure it’s me you don’t want to hurt, and not yourself.”

Noah’s lips parted soundlessly as he stared at her first in confusion and then dawning realization and feeling a small twinge of satisfaction at having got the last word—even if she’d have preferred such a thing not to be needed—Grace turned away and, taking Jacob’s hand, started walking down the drive through the rain.

28

The trouble with a parting shot, Noah reflected, was that it was long after—hours, even days—when you were finally able to think of a good comeback. And in his case, eventhenhe couldn’t come up with anything that countered what Grace had leveled at him so quietly.

This wasn’t abouthimbeing hurt. Was it? He wasn’t that selfishly self-protective, surely? Or maybe Isaiah was right, and he was punishing himself, because he didn’t think he deserved happiness anymore. Life was safer within the dour walls of Grayhaven, and until recently, he hadn’t felt lonely there.

Now he did.

As Noah had headed back inside, thoroughly dissatisfied by how he and Grace had left things—really, howhe’dleft things—he realized he hadn’t told her he’d heard Jacob laugh, which had felt so important at the time, and still did. He hadn’t said anything about their kiss except intimating that he regretted it. If he was trying not to hurt her, well, he was doing a pretty poor job of it.

Which left him… where, exactly?

Over the next few days, he found no good answer to that question. He immersed himself in work, which felt easier, but also cowardly. He worked out a lot in the gym, too, and when the rain finally stopped, leaving everything bright green and lush, he walked the grounds of the estate, which gave him a little more perspective but still left him having no idea what to do.

He didn’t see Grace, or Jacob.

Over the last week or so, they’d stopped arranging chess lessons and she’d just showed up, nearly every day, around the same time—three o’clock, and after the lesson they’d stayed well into the evening, until it was time for Grace to put Jacob to bed.

Noah had gotten used to that. He’d gotten used to not being alone. He’d gotten used to feeling like he was part of a family, which was kind of ridiculous, since he’d only known them a couple of months, but still. He’d felt it. He missed it.

He didn’t like being alone anymore.

And yet… nothing had changed. He didn’t trust himself. He didn’t trust himself not to hurt Grace more than he already had.