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She listened to the storm for several minutes before it became clear to her that he didn’t seem to be going back to sleep, either. “Am I keeping you up?” she whispered when she realized he was watching her.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.” She started to get up again, but he reached out to stop her.

“Don’t,” he said simply.

Even when she relaxed, he didn’t remove his arm. It rested across her waist, anchoring her to the bed, but in a good way. She liked the pressure of it, found it reassuring.

She didn’t move for several minutes, thinking he’d be able to drift off again if she just held still long enough. But when she checked, he was watching her like before, seemingly without blinking, and that caused her heart to pound. He made her feel so charged up, as if…as if there was a strong current of electricity running from him to her. It was almost overwhelming. She wondered if he could tell. “Kanon?”

“What?”

“It’s been…it’s been a really long time since I’ve been close to anyone—physically, I mean. Would you mind if I…if I slid toward you a little bit?”

He didn’t answer for several seconds. Feeling stupid for asking—she wasn’t even sure where that question had come from—she was about to get up and leave after all, but the second she tried, he tightened his grip. “Don’t,” he said and helped her get beneath the covers before pulling her into his arms.

This was a bit closer than she’d intended. But she was the one who’d asked. And she certainly didn’t mind. Settling her head in the comfortable hollow just below his shoulder, she enjoyed the solid feel of him while listening to the steady, metronome-like beat of his heart.

Now that they were so close he couldn’t continue to stare at her—something she’d found unnerving—she was able to enjoy the physical contact she’d been craving. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the clean scent of him. And the warmth and security he offered must’ve made a big difference because the next thing she knew, the alarm was going off.

* * *

Patience slid away from Kanon as he rolled over to reach his phone to turn off the alarm. She’d slept, presumably soundly. He was glad of that. But having her in his arms had kept him too aroused to be able to drop off again. After not being attracted to anyone for a very long time—so long he’d assumed he was immune to what appealed to most other men—he liked Patience too much for his own good.

Of course he’d want someone with whom he didn’t stand a chance of building a successful relationship, he thought, immediately seeing the irony. Even if he knew he was going to stick around Hard Luck indefinitely, he’d stay away from the preacher’s daughter. He was adamantly opposed to getting involved in any tricky or difficult situations. After what he’d been through with his father, he wasn’t willing to give anyone the right to approve or disapprove of who he was or what he did, especially someone like Carl. There was no way he could ever kowtow to Carl’s vision of the world. It was far too narrow and simplistic to adequately represent reality.

“That alarm came far too quickly,” Patience muttered.

Because she hadn’t been lying awake, dying to touch him the way he’d been dying to touch her, he thought. The past two hours had been interminable to him. But he didn’t say anything. He needed to keep his distance from Patience in the future. He hadn’t realized she’d be able to trigger something he hadn’t felt in years—a strange kind of hope that seemed determined to spring up through the cracks of his defenses. He needed to stamp out that hope before it could really grab hold. Embracing it would only leave him vulnerable, and he wasn’t comfortable with any kind of vulnerability.

What was it about this town? he wondered. He wasn’t afraid of Carl’s farcical version of hell because he knew what hell really was. In the past, hell had always been right here in Hard Luck. He needed to remember that and not get overly confident, even though part of the reason he’d come back was to beat something he’d let beat him and finally prove that this place could no longer hurt him.

“It might still be cold and dark, but it sounds like the storm has abated,” he said. “At least we’ve got that.”

She shoved the hair out of her face and went to the window. “The wind has died down, but the snow is still falling. I have no idea how we’re going to get my car out.”

“I can do it,” he said. “I’ve worked in much worse conditions.”

Since he was already dressed, all he had to do was pull on some boots, a hat and gloves. It didn’t take him long to get ready. “Stay here until I get back.”

“Why?” she asked. “I should help.”

“No need. It won’t take long. Where’re your keys?”

Her fob was on the nightstand next to where he’d put her computer. She grabbed it and handed it to him, and he ducked out into the weather.

She didn’t follow right away, but as soon as he got her car started and stepped out, there she was. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I can’t let you be out here on your own,” she said.

He gaped at her. “Why not?”

“Because it’s my car. Letting you do it makes me feel too guilty.”

She didn’t have a hat or gloves, just a coat. She’d arrived before the storm moved in; last night wasn’t supposed to have turned into the marathon it did.

He stared down at her, taking in her tangled hair and smudged mascara. Her dishevelment somehow made her even sexier. Before he could stop himself, he bent his head and kissed her as he’d been dying to kiss her for hours. He knew he shouldn’t, but she seemed so incredibly good and honest and sweet that he couldn’t resist. He figured he’d allow himself just this one small taste. Then, after he sent her off, he’d handle everything regarding the festival through email. That would keep them both safe.