Hurry up, Sie! Don’t be such a slow poke.”

“I’m coming,” Sierra grumbled, but a smile stole over her lips as she looked at the excitement dancing in Dalton’s eyes. It fascinated Sierra how his eye color changed with his emotions. Today, they were more blue than silver. When they were younger, Dalton was gangly and awkward, but overnight, he’d transformed into a hunk. And he seemed to be growing more handsome with each passing day. Girls at school had noticed it too, which Sierra wasn’t happy about. But thankfully, Dalton only seemed to have eyes for her. Her breath came out in short bursts with each step as she gripped the handrail. “How many steps are there in this wretched lighthouse anyway? A gazillion?”

“One hundred and sixty-seven.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It feels like a heck of a lot more than that.”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “That’s because the staircase is curved.”

“Oh, yeah. I hadn’t noticed,” she mumbled. Dalton was fascinated with architecture and knew every detail about this lighthouse, including how it was constructed of cast iron plates in case it needed to be relocated. It had, in fact, been relocated in the late 1800s due to erosion—a mile and a quarter back from the shore. Sierra remembered Dalton rambling off that fact the last time they’d come.

When Sierra finally reached the top, she stood, trying to catch her breath.

He grinned. “You made it. I was afraid I might have to carry you.”

She rolled her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dalton stepped up behind her and pulled her into his arms. Tingles circled down her spine when his lips nuzzled her ear. The wind whipped around them, flapping against their clothes as she snuggled into Dalton, appreciating the warmth of his body. His arms felt strong and secure around her. “It’s nice to have the lighthouse all to ourselves. What do you think?” he murmured.

Her gaze swept over the green canopy of trees directly below, past the sandy beach, and out at the endless ocean, sparkling like glass in the afternoon sun. “It’s incredible.”

He turned her around to face him. “Yes, you are.” His eyes roved over her in that leisurely way that sent all thoughts flying out of her head. He leaned closer, a fierce look flickering in his magnetic eyes. “No matter what happens from here on out, promise me that we’ll always be together.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

His lips came down on hers, tantalizing and soft as a feather that tickled and teased. Just when she was craving more, he drew back. “You taste like Twizzlers.”

A laugh escaped her throat. “So do you.”

“I like it,” he murmured, tightening his hold on her waist as his hands moved up her back. His lips came down on hers, sending a jolt of electricity buzzing through her. The kiss grew more demanding, sending a hot fire wicking through Sierra as she gave into the demands of his lips. Glorious rapture rolled inside her and all she could think about was Dalton—her everything. A groan rumbled in her throat as he buried his hands in her hair, dipping her back.

No, it was more of a moan. A loud series of moans or were they groans? Groans of pain, not pleasure. Sierra shot up in bed, her heart pounding erratically. She touched her lips, still feeling the burn from Dalton’s kiss. For a split second, the loss of him was so overwhelming that it squeezed her heart like a vise. She flinched, embarrassment flooding over her as she threw back the covers. That stupid dream had been so real! She drew in a breath, trying to get a hold of herself. Geez. This attraction-thing was getting ridiculous!

She wadded the sheet in her fist and lay back against the pillow, memories from the dream wrapping around her like a cocoon. In her half-dream state, it was easy to let herself drift back into Dalton’s arms. Just for tonight, she promised herself. She was almost back to sleep when she heard the moans. She tensed, her heart pounding as she sat up again. She cocked her ears. There it was again. Bennie!

She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to Bennie’s room. Without knocking, she flung open the door. Bennie was sitting in bed, clutching her knee, moaning in pain.

Sierra rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

“My knee,” Bennie screeched, her face pinched with pain.

A feeling of helplessness overtook Sierra. “What can I do to help? Do you need some pain medication?” She tried to think. “Should I call someone? Nadine? 911?”

Bennie rocked back and forth. “Call Dalton.”

She jerked. “What?”

Bennie caught her arm in an iron grip. The whites of her eyes popping in panic. “I need you to call Dalton. Right now! Tell him …” she gulped a breath, trying to get the words out “… I need him to take me … to the Emergency Room.” Tears streamed down her face as she moaned. “I’m sorry,” she lamented. She drew in a labored breath. “Something’s wrong.”

“Okay.” Sierra looked around wildly. “Where’s your phone?”

“There.” Bennie pointed to the dresser.

Sierra rushed over and grabbed it, but it was locked. “I need your passcode.”

“5467.”

She punched it in and typed Dalton’s name in the search. Luckily, it came right up. She called. It rang a few times, then went to his voicemail. A cold sweat broke across Sierra’s brow. “He’s not answering. Maybe I should call 911.”

Bennie gritted her teeth, wincing in pain. “No, try him again.”

Sierra tried a couple more times, frustration welling inside her. “He’s not answering.” Tears sprang to her eyes. It hurt to see her aunt in such a state. Bennie was coiled up tight, holding her knee, still moaning. “I’ve got to get you some help.”

“Run over and get Dalton.”

An incredulous laugh broke through her throat. “What?”

“Now!” Bennie shouted, breaking into sobs. “I need him to take me to the Emergency Room.”

“But 911’s faster.”

She shook her head. “Too expensive. I don’t have good insurance.”

Horror trickled down Sierra’s spine. In all the years Sierra had been away, she’d not thought twice about what type of insurance Bennie had. Aside from the income from the plays, Bennie taught piano and voice lessons. Of course she didn’t have good insurance. Sierra thought about the cushy policy she had through the ad agency, guilt slicing through her. “Okay,” she heard herself say. “I’ll go get him.”

“Put something on first,” Bennie barked.

Sierra pushed her hair out of her face. “What?” Then she looked down and realized she was only wearing a long t-shirt and underwear. “Oh, yeah.” She touched Bennie’s shoulder. “Will you be okay while I’m next door?”

Bennie bit down on her lower lip, nodding. In the semi-darkness, Bennie’s face took on the look of a shriveled walnut, dented and bruised with age. Sierra’s heart pounded out a sickly beat. She had to hurry. Had to get Bennie to the hospital, even if that meant dragging Dalton’s butt out of bed.

She squared her jaw, resolve crowding out uncertainty as she jumped into action. “I’ll be back soon,” she yelled over her shoulder as she darted out of the room.

Please help Bennie, she prayed.

* * *

The grass was wet under Sierra’s feet as she ran across the yard. Not wanting to waste time putting on shoes, she’d thrown on a pair of shorts and darted out the door. She shrieked and nearly fell when a prickly burr dug into the ball of her foot. She stopped only long enough to remove it and kept going.

She punched Dalton’s doorbell, trying to figure out what she’d do if he didn’t answer. It then occurred to Sierra that she could drive Bennie to the emergency room. In all the commotion, she’d not thought about that. Crap! No, she couldn’t. There was no way she could lift Bennie, which is why Bennie wanted Dalton.

She felt like a bedraggled fool standing out here in the middle of the night. What time was it anyway? Two or three in the morning? She jabbed the doorbell again and again, cursing under her breath. When that didn’t yield results, she pounded on the door. “Dalton! Open up!”

Her panic was mounting to the point of frenzy as she continued knocking, frustrated tears pumping into her eyes. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard footsteps and then Dalton opened the door.

He looked, then looked again. “Sierra?” he said, like he was talking to himself. His hair was messy, a crease running along his cheek like he’d been sleeping hard. She noticed again the hairline scar, tracing the edge of his jaw.

She clutched her t-shirt. “Hey.” Her eyes trailed to his chest as she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Wow! Sculpted pecs, flat abs carved from stone. Dalton had certainly not looked like this before. Heat blasted over her as she looked at his right bicep and saw that he did, indeed, have a tattoo—two thin, parallel bands circling the radius of his arm. Her eyes flickered over his red boxer shorts and long, muscular legs.

Maybe it was because of the dream she’d just had, but she felt again the intense desire she’d experienced earlier when his lips touched hers. Her pulse pounded like a rock band against her temples. She shook her head, clearing away the wretched thoughts. It was crazy how all of that could rush through her head in the blink of an eye, especially when she was worried sick about Bennie.

Dalton cocked his head in confusion, then frustration masked his features. “What’re you doing here?” He looked her up and down, frowning in disapproval.

“It’s Bennie,” she stammered. “Her knee. She’s in a lot of pain and needs you—us—to take her to the Emergency Room. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.” The words spilled out and disappeared into the night air as she blinked rapidly to stay the emotion. Goosebumps rose over her flesh as she hugged her arms.

Concern washed over him as he nodded. He pushed a hand through his hair. “I must’ve accidentally put my phone on silent.” He stepped back and motioned. “Come in while I get dressed.”

“Hurry, she’s in bad shape.”

* * *

Dalton’s head felt sluggish and too large for his body as he tried to fully wake up. When he first opened the door and saw Sierra standing on the steps, he thought he must be dreaming. But when she told him the bit about Bennie, he knew it was real. As they jogged side-by-side to Bennie’s mansion, he glanced sideways at Sierra. Even though her face was tight with worry, she was still beautiful, her milky skin reflecting the moonlight, her long red hair flying out behind her like flames.

When they stepped inside the mansion, Dalton heard the groans. His heart dropped as he looked at Sierra. The look in her eyes reflected his own fears. This was bad!

They rushed down the hall to Bennie’s room. For an instant, he stood paralyzed at the sight of Bennie rocking back and forth, her expression streaked with pain as she moaned. Sierra tugged on his arm.

“Come on,” she urged, frustration lacing her voice. “I need you to help me get her up so we can take her to the hospital.”

“Thanks for coming,” Bennie managed to utter, then drew in a halting breath.

Dalton nodded. “I think I can carry her,” he said to Sierra.

Sierra’s eyes rounded. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be good to drop her.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Bennie said.

Dalton was surprised that Bennie had joined the conversation, considering her pain level. “No worries. I’ve got you, Bennie. Put your arm around my shoulders,” he instructed as he lifted her. Bennie was still grimacing in pain—soft, intermittent moans issuing from her throat.

“Grab my crutches,” Bennie said to Sierra. “And my purse.”

Sierra nodded as she reached for the items. “Crap! I forgot. I’m driving that horrid van because of the accident.”

“What accident?” Bennie asked, then groaned again.

“Never mind that,” Sierra inserted quickly, looking at Dalton. “Maybe we should take your truck. Or your Camaro? Do you still have it?”

“Of course.” He’d never get rid of the Camaro, but it was more of a collectible. Dalton tried to think. “I can put Bennie down on the couch and run and get the truck.”

“No need,” Bennie grunted. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sorry,” she breathed, wringing her hands. “It just hurts so badly.” Dalton’s stomach twisted, it was tough seeing Bennie this way. “We can take my car,” Bennie managed to say.

As carefully as he could, Dalton put Bennie in the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. He looked in the rearview mirror at Sierra. “Which hospital?” There were three hospitals, all of them roughly twenty-five to thirty minutes away.

“St. Thomas,” Bennie croaked.

“Really?” Dalton hadn’t even thought about that one. It was a good fifty minutes away.

“That’s where I want to go,” Bennie said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He looked at Sierra again, and she shrugged. “If that’s where she wants to go.”

He started the engine. “St. Thomas it is.”