The next day, she headed back to Dean’s house mid-morning. Liana let her in, and made enough small talk that Jenna realized Sean wasn’t up yet.

“Should I come back later?”

“No, it’s fine. He’s just prickly about being woken. He doesn’t sleep well.”

Jenna nodded, when really what she wanted to do was race up the stairs and climb into bed with him. Was he having nightmares? Muscle spasms? Headaches?

“We don’t want to get too involved,” Liana said carefully, moving down the counter to set her hand on one of the thickest medical charts Jenna had ever seen. “But Sean told Dean to leave this out. He said you’d know how to read it.”

A shiver ran through her. He’d told her yesterday about the vertigo. He’d meant it to scare her off, and she had no doubt this was another volley. But she’d seen people survive unimaginable horror. She wasn’t easily frightened.

She nodded. “I do.”

That didn’t mean she wanted to read it all in stark, medical language, though. She wanted to curl up next to Sean and have him run his fingers through her hair as he told her what happened. How awful it had been, but hey, now it’s in the past. Hurray, they were together again.

Except they weren’t, and it wouldn’t go like that. The chart practically yelled that at her. It was thicker than a textbook. So big it had changed him.

And now he wanted to frighten her with the reality of what had happened to him. She didn’t understand why—if he thought he was doing this for her, or for himself. Either way, she needed to know what he knew so she could find a new path for the both of them. Together.

Dragging in a breath, she flipped the folder open and began reading.

* * *

Sean lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t like anything about his current miserable existence, but if he had to pick something that was tolerable, it was this moment, before he moved. His head didn’t spin, and the ringing in his ears hadn’t yet been complicated by other noises.

And then he heard her, and for a second, he was back in Spain.

We could stay in bed all day. Isn’t this the best?

You’re the best.

You’re just saying that because you want to get lucky.

I’m already lucky. I woke up beside you, didn’t I?

He hadn’t known how good he’d had it, that it would all be taken away.

And then another thought. Not a memory, but a recrimination. She’s right downstairs.

He wasn’t so self-centred that he didn’t realize, theoretically, that he had another chance here. Her showing up could have been the bright light, the shining hope he’d desperately wanted when he first landed in the hospital in Germany.

She laughed at something either Dean or Liana said, and he twisted his head to catch more than just the edge of the sound.

And the world hurtled sharply.

Whoa. No sudden movements, dickhead. Vertigo rule number one.

He shut his eyes, but the swirling disorientation didn’t stop, and the ringing in his ears ramped up alarmingly. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the pillow, trying to block everything out.

Deep breaths sort of worked. Enough to keep the rise of bile back. Throwing up on himself would be a fine fucking way to start the day.

No, he wasn’t selfish to want to protect her from this. She deserved more than two weeks of bliss, then a lifetime of playing nursemaid to an invalid husband.

He rolled onto his side, then his front. His legs pulled up easily under him. Fucking irony. His body worked just fine without his head.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed up onto his hands and knees, keeping his head pressed against the pillow until the last possible second.

A knock sounded at his door, followed by Jenna’s voice. “Sean?”

Fucking hell.

He knew what he needed to do. He needed to push her away. God. He didn’t know if he was strong enough for that, but he’d damn well try. “Go away.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Dean and Liana have gone out. It’s just me.”

Just her. She said it reassuringly, like she had any clue what was on his side of the door. Like anything they’d shared could prepare her for the fact he couldn’t get out of bed without assistance.

At least yesterday she’d found him standing. This? On all fours, unable to lift his head without tossing his cookies? No.

His chest ached. Jenna, please, he wanted to beg. But that wouldn’t work. He needed to be hard about this. He’d left her his chart. Couldn’t she see what he’d become?

“Go away,” he said again. “I don’t want you here.”

His voice broke on the last word, and he hated that show of weakness.

It took her a long time to respond. “I told you yesterday that I will go, but I will also come back. You might as well see me first.”

It wasn’t seeing her that was the problem. It was her seeing him. “I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care,” she said softly. Then she raised her voice. “I mean, I care. I’ll wait here as long as you need me too. But I’m okay with messy.”

This was a stupid conversation to have through a door. And more to the point, it wasn’t working.

He carefully slid off the bed. He hated the silver walker in the corner, but if Dean wasn’t here, it was either crawl or use the assistive device.

And he wasn’t fucking crawling in front of Jenna.

He made his way to the walker, then hauled himself up. He hated how his arms shook. Hated how he had to find a new focus point before he could take each step.

When he opened the door, she was standing in the middle of the hall, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looking perfectly perfect. Giving him lots of space. Plenty far away, really, but still too damn close.

“I need to…” He pointed to the bathroom. She stepped aside, but he didn’t want her to watch him hobble, either. “You could sit in my room. There’s a chair.”

Too late, he realized that his desire not to stumble in front her had also been an invitation for her to sit.

Damn his fucking useless head.

The guest room had a whole sitting room area, and that’s where he found her when he returned. He’d scrubbed his face and brushed his teeth. Still looked like a homeless hobo, but he didn’t smell like one.

“Morning,” she said softly as he stepped toward her. Step, lift, clunk. Step, lift, clunk.

His snail’s pace gave him lots of time to soak up how good she looked. She’d braided her hair today. Even though she’d cut it, it was still long enough for that. A thick twist with loose strands spilling out of it. She’d kicked off her shoes downstairs, too, like she was planning to stay a while.

She was sitting in the arm chair, so he took the couch. As soon as he was down, he kicked the walker out of the way.

“I read your medical file.” She pressed her lips together for a second, and he didn’t miss the tremor in her cheek. “You had a stroke?”

“So they say.”

“Sean…”

Fuck, he didn’t want her to worry about him. He wanted her to run screaming, not crying. “I’m getting better.”

“I can see that.” She curled her legs beside her and rubbed her hand up and down her calf. “It sounds like it was really touch and go at the start.”

He’d been there. It had been awful.

“Since your speech returned so quickly, hopefully—”

“I’m getting better in a not-going-to-die kind of way,” he bit out. “Don’t confuse that with any hope for further improvement.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor.

“The key parts of the file were on the top. Chronic tinnitus, vertigo. Migraines, nausea, balance problems. Short term memory gaps. None of that is going to get better. My brain was put in a pressure cooker. This is the new me.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept her gaze averted.

He sighed. “You shouldn’t have come—”

“I’m not sorry.” She said it quietly, softly, but there was steel in her voice, and it shut him up. “I should have come sooner.”

“No.” Jesus, no. He couldn’t have handled her. Selfish. “How much did this screw you up for work?”

“It didn’t. That’s fine.” She pushed to her feet, still not looking at him. She started to pace. “I’m sticking around for a while.”

“You wanted—”

She jerked her head, finding his gaze, and he shut up. “When I found out, you were… here. With your family. So… I gave notice. I’m fine. It’s fine. I waited until they got a replacement for me.”

He sagged back against the couch in relief. She could go back. She could get another contract. She was only staying for a while. Maybe he could handle that. They could wrap up their affairs, so to speak. “Dean told me he set you up in his place. You…” He swallowed back the invitation for her to stay here. It wasn’t his house to offer, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it if she accepted, anyway.

She resumed pacing when he didn’t finish that thought. She moved with an effortless grace that stayed him. He hadn’t told her enough how beautiful she was. He’d missed so many opportunities in those two weeks to be a better man. He couldn’t let his head swivel to track her as she paced, but each time she moved into his field of vision, his heart seized up, and only relaxed when she slipped away on the other side.

It was fucked up, how much anxiety she caused in him just by being in his presence.

No, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t cause it. He let himself go there, let himself get wound up and worried about shit he couldn’t control.

She stopped beside him and sat on the couch.

His pulse jolted.

She wasn’t touching him, but she was closer than she’d been the day before. It made him want all sorts of things he couldn’t have. He’d tried to think about this—about being well enough to hold her, to kiss her. To do everything he’d missed.

But his body wouldn’t cooperate. Hadn’t cooperated when he’d thought about it, and now that she was actually here, in touching range, he was still a dysfunctional mess.

She waited until he turned toward her. Slowly, carefully. Weakly.

Then she smiled, so bright it hurt to look at. “So here’s the thing. I’m going to have hope for the both of us. You can tell me that’s foolish. But the Sean Foster I fell in love with wouldn’t have thought it foolish. He taught me a lot in our two weeks together, about taking risks and finding joy. You taught me a lot. So I’m not going to push you, but I’m going to be around, because…” She took a wavering breath and her smile trembled, but she kept going. “Because I love you.”

She hadn’t heard him at all. He rasped her name, a warning, but she was already leaning in. Her lips brushed against his, the barest, sweetest touch he’d ever felt in his entire life, and then she was gone. Standing up.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “This is my new phone number. I also left it downstairs. If you want anything, need me for any reason, I’m just a call away.”

* * *

She’d eaten the rest of the chocolate cake for breakfast, and after that emotional visit with Sean, Jenna deserved something good, so she went to Mac’s.

It was a little early for the lunch rush, if Pine Harbour had such a thing, so the place was almost empty. She had her choice of counter or booth, and after some consideration, she went with the booth. It might look a little odd eating by herself, but this way she wouldn’t have to make small talk with the waitress beyond the niceties exchanged when she placed her order.

“Coffee, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” Jenna set the menu down. “What pie do you have today?”

“Apple, strawberry-rhubarb, and pecan.”

“Strawberry-rhubarb, please. With a scoop of vanilla ice cream. And…” she glanced at the menu. “What’s good for takeout?”

“All of it.” The waitress crossed her arms. “Sean’s favourite is the meatloaf.”

She filed that away for future reference, and hated the pang of envy that she hadn’t already known that. “It’s just for me,” she said evenly. “I’ll take the lasagna for when I leave.”

As she was stirring a sugar packet into her coffee, and trying to convince herself she didn’t need it, the door chimed and in came a wave of people. Jenna watched them all, curious about her new neighbours.

One of them was particularly interested in her, too. Tall, good-looking, with a ready, camera-perfect smile, and tousled brown hair… he had to be a Foster brother.

He veered toward her and slid into the booth without waiting for an invitation. “You’re Jenna.”

It was like she was wearing one of those HELLO, MY NAME IS stickers. She took a deep breath that did nothing for the butterflies in her stomach and held out her hand. “I am. And you must be Matt or Jake.”

“Matt. The good-looking one.” He gave her a grin. “Or so people say.”

She could just imagine what people said. “Nice to meet you.”

“I was told I couldn’t show up on your doorstep yesterday, but this doesn’t count, right?”

She shook her head. “I suppose not.”

“Do you mind if I join you for lunch?”

The door dinged again, and another wave of people entered. Dani Foster was among them, her baby in a wrap on her chest, and she was with a pretty blond woman with short, choppy hair.

The two women bee-lined for them.

Dani gave Matt a hard look. “Hey, there, mister. What are you doing? Hi, Jenna. Nice to see you again.”

He turned and gave the two new women the exact same big, goofy, flirty smile he’d given her. “Getting to know my new sister-in-law. How are you, Chloe?”

The blonde winked at him. “Hungry. You’re in my seat. Move.”

“I was going to have lunch with Jenna.”

“Well she’s in hot demand as a lunch date, we’re claiming her. Sorry. You can try again another day.”

Matt shrugged at Jenna as if to say, what are you going to do?

An excellent question.

“Fine. I should get takeout anyway. That was my plan before I saw Jenna.” He turned back to her and gave her a wink. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Yep,” Jenna said.

The blonde took his seat and leaned in. “Hi. I’m Chloe Dawson, the librarian.”

“And defender of town newcomers.”

Dani, who’d stayed standing because she was bouncing the baby, laughed. “Yep. She’s also good for book recommendations, and awesome for splitting a giant pot of chilli or stew with.”

“Now you’re talking my language. What kinds of books?”

“Pretty much anything.”

“You have any good ugly cry books?”

“Heaps.” And bless her soul, Chloe didn’t ask why Jenna wanted them. Or maybe it was obvious that she hadn’t cried yet, couldn’t cry, and was so damn brittle if she didn’t do something, she’d break into a million pieces.

Chloe grabbed the menu. “What are you having for lunch?”

“Pie.”

“Sounds great.” When Jenna’s pie arrived a minute later, Chloe and Dani both ordered the exact same thing.

“So you want some books?” Chloe asked after they’d stuffed their faces.

“Sure. I could come in to the library and get a card.”

“Oh yeah, definitely do that. But I’ve got tons at home, too. And if I bring you some, then we can also cook up a big batch of stew to split, and then we avoid having to run the Matt Foster gauntlet. I’m surprised he didn’t hit on you.”

“He knew who I was, so I guess I was saved. He was perfectly nice.”

“So he clearly hadn’t gotten to grilling you about their precious baby brother, then.”

Sean wasn’t a baby anything, and Jenna didn’t have anything to hide. They could bring on the grilling if they wanted to, she didn’t care.

“They mean well, but they’ll want to both protect Sean and warn you off of having any expectations.”

“I don’t have any expectations.”

Chloe nodded. “Good.” But she said it like she didn’t believe Jenna.

“I don’t,” Jenna insisted.

“I literally just met you,” the librarian said. Well, at least she acknowledged that fact. “So I shouldn’t weigh in on that.”

“But?”

“But you’ve flown around the world to stake your claim on him. I should hope you have some expectations. And you deserve some. He married you, and now he’s holed up in his brother’s house feeling miserable and sorry for himself.”

“He almost died.” More than once. Cold, slick fear rolled over her as she remembered his medical file.

The librarian reached across the booth and touched Jenna’s hand. “But he lived.”

“Excellent point, Chloe-who-I’ve-just-met.”

Chloe-who-she’d-just-met smiled.

Jenna laughed. “Okay. I’m trying my damnedest to manage my secret expectations. How’s that?”

“Better. Say, do you know how to make stew?” Chloe gave her a wicked, beaming grin. “Because I don’t. At all. So really, I’m good at grocery shopping and providing reading material in exchange for cooking.”

“Yeah, I can cook.”

Chloe held out her hand. “Then you have a dinner date for tomorrow night.”

Jenna took the proffered hand and shook it. “Deal. I’m staying in Dean’s old house.”

“I know. And conveniently, I live just down the street.”

“This really is a very small town, isn’t it?”

“The smallest. But we’ve got the biggest hearts.”