Chapter Twenty-Seven

Harper blinked at Jak, her pink lips taking the shape of an O as she took the pen from between her teeth. He was nervous, but even still, his blood caught fire at the look of her mouth parted that way.

"Jak? I don't understand. Why did you call yourself Lucas?" She looked worried, and it made him feel… He didn't know the word, but he knew the last thing he wanted to do was scare her when she was alone with him. Especially when he kept thinking about her lips and how much he liked sitting right next to her, inhaling her sweet woman scent and—

He stood quickly, moving away from her, leaning against the wall by the window. "I told the truth when I said I don't know my last name. I think a woman named Alma or Almara or Almina named me, but I don't know for sure. She did raise me, though, until I was almost eight, and I called her Baka. She talked in a different language sometimes. I don't know which one, and I don't know where we lived or why I was taken from her."

Harper's mouth stayed in the same surprised O, her eyes wide as she listened. "What do you mean you were taken from her?"

"I mean, I ended up out here, and I don't know how or why." That much was true too. He wasn't ready to tell her the rest, not yet.

"Do you think she, your baka, dropped you off here?"

"I…don't know."

She looked so confused. "It doesn't make any sense. Who was your mother? Your father?"

He felt torn. "My mother gave me up to my baka, I think. I don't know. And…I don't know anything about my father."

"Why did you lie? Don't you want help figuring this all out?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to tell her about the cliff and the war that wasn't and how he'd been lied to, but he didn't know yet what was okay to hold back and what was okay to tell.

Don't tell anyone I've been here, okay?

"I lied because I don't know who to trust," he admitted. He wanted to trust her, he realized, and part of him already did. It was the wanting that surprised him when he'd only trusted himself for so long. But he did, he wanted to watch her large, dark eyes fill with…understanding. He wanted to share his worries and troubles with another person. He just wasn't sure it should be this woman, who made him feel unsure of himself, made his blood run hot in his veins.

The woman he wanted to call his own.

Her eyes ran over his face like she could read the answers to the questions she had by just looking at him. Not yet, an inner knowing told him. But soon if you let her. He turned away, grabbing a can of food she'd brought with her the last time and turning around. "Are you hungry?"

He didn't know if he could—or should—fully trust her, but he could feed her, even if she had been the one to bring the food.

Harper glanced at the can and then back to him. "Yes," she murmured. "Lucas…Jak…which do you prefer?"

"I've lived my life as Jak. Until…I went to the…sheriff building."

"Then…Jak, I want you to know that you can trust me. I'd like to help you if you'll let me." She looked back at the can he was still holding. "And, yes, I'd love some dinner."

It was dark outside now, and the candles were making shadows on the walls. How many times had Jak sat at this table, eating a meal, and it'd felt cold and lonely? Especially after Pup died. Especially then. But now, he felt a closeness with another person that he'd never felt before. It made him feel peaceful. It made him feel terrified. It made him think of the family who had been taken from him or that he'd watched walk away, and the memories made an icy-cold knife slice slowly through him, cutting, tearing, just like all the cuts and wounds that had made scars on his skin. He shouldn't get attached to this woman because he didn't want to feel pain when she left.

She smiled around a bite of food.

"What?" he asked.

"This is a first."

He tilted his head as she let out a happy laugh. "A date of franks and beans by candlelight."

"A date?"

Her smile faded. "Oh, yes. No. I mean, not that it's a date. But…I mean, it could be. I don't want you to think…not that… Anyway, it's nice is what I mean." She lowered her eyes but then peeked up at him.

He remembered what she'd said. "You're talking a lot, which means you're not saying something."

She laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't have given myself away." But her eyes were warm, and she smiled. "I like spending time with you is what I was trying to say."

"Why?"

She blinked. "Why do I like spending time with you, Jak?"

He sat back slowly. He loved hearing his name—his real name—on her lips. "Yes."

She stared at him for a few seconds, tilting her chin a little. "Because I find you interesting and kind. You surprise me but in good ways. I like the things you say, and I like watching you discover new things. I admire how you've survived out here alone for all of these years." She looked off to the side. "No, admire isn't strong enough a word. I'm in awe of how you've survived out here all of these years, and I'm sure I don't know the half of it. I hope someday you might trust me enough to tell me. You value truth, Jak, so that's it. One hundred percent."

His lips tipped. I like you, he thought, amazement rushing through him. He remembered it—the feeling of…affection, was that the word? Yes, he thought it was. The warmth for another human, the…liking of them being with you. Not a wanting to mate—though that was there too. The feeling of…affection was a good one, a liking that couldn't be taken away by leaving. It would stay whether she did or not. It made him feel good knowing there was another thing no one could steal from him.

He liked her. It was his. That was all.

At the same time, he felt guilt. How could he value truth like she'd said and also be a liar? He had so many questions about the world, about life and humans, so many things that confused him. Did he believe what he'd said when he'd told her keeping information from someone was different than lying? Was there any difference? No, he thought. He knew there wasn't because both had been done to him, and in the end, the pain was the same.

So many doubts and questions swirled inside him. His mind was a tide pool, thoughts rushing here, there, in, out, going in circles. So fast he couldn't get his balance. These new feelings that had only come because he cared what this woman thought. Human feelings. Human questions. He wanted her trust. He wanted her to like him. "What do you value?"

"Me?"

"Yes. Above all else," he said, repeating her words.

She was quiet, looking like she was thinking hard about his question. "Stability, I think…love." Her cheeks got pinker, and she looked away.

Was she embarrassed to want love? He wondered why. She had lost people she loved too. If she still wanted it, it was brave. "Do you have it in your life…love?"

She breathed out a laugh. "You're very straightforward when you want to be."

"Am I asking the wrong questions?" He felt ashamed. He didn't know how to do this, talk about the things inside him with other people. Sometimes he didn't even know how to talk to himself.

"No." She shook her head. "No. Your questions aren't wrong. Yes, I have love in my life. I love my friends, and I love the kids at the group home I work at." She smiled again, but something sad came into her eyes too.

"Do you love a man?" Please say no.

"No," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "No."

She stood suddenly and leaned close to the window. "Oh my gosh," she said, bringing his attention to the weather outside. Snow was falling quickly—the big, fluffy flakes that meant it would snow for a long time—and ice crystals stuck to the glass. Jak had seen this before, many times. He knew what it was. "That looks bad."

He stood, heading to the front door and opening it. A blow of icy wind hit his face, and he stepped back. "It's an ice storm." He'd known it as soon as he saw those fluffy flakes mixed with icy shine.

Harper came up next to him, holding her arm against the whipping wind and closing the door. "God, that came up quickly. I should go before it gets really bad."

Jak turned to her. "It's already really bad."

She met his eyes. "I lost track of time." She looked toward the window, shaking her head, her expression nervous. She took her phone from her pocket, glancing at it. "No service here, but I've gotten service in this wilderness before. Sometimes it's a matter of being in the right spot."

He didn't know what she was talking about—he knew what a phone was but not how one worked. The thing in her hand was a mystery to him, but he didn't question it. The very last thing he wanted was for her to see him as a child.

"I need to go out to my truck," she said, grabbing her jacket.

"I'll come with you."

"No, it's okay. I'll be right back."

"I'll come with you," he said again, not willing to let her walk out into the howling wind alone. He put on his coat and boots quickly and pulled the door open, squinting against the ice that burned his face. It was too easy to get lost in ice storms. One missed step or wrong turn, and suddenly you didn't know where you were and could barely see a tree right in front of you before you walked into it. He used his body to shield her as they walked in the direction where her truck was parked, not able to see it until it was right in front of them.

He'd been lost in an ice storm like this once. He'd hunkered down with Pup and barely—but he pushed his thoughts away. He didn't want to think about that right now.

Harper stepped around him, her head bent, the wind picking up in speed and sound, whipping her hood off her head, her hair going in every direction. She laughed, but it was high like a scared bird.

She climbed into her truck, and he went in after her, slamming the door and escaping from the wind. It pounded at the truck, sneaking between the cracks, trying its best to reach them. Their mixed breath came out in sharp pants. The sound of the wind got less, though the truck shook, the house invisible through the front glass.

"Good lord," she said, pushing her hair back, crystals of ice shining like jewels in the low light coming from the phone she'd brought from her pocket again.

She made a sound of unhappiness and then held her phone up in the air, moving it from side to side. "There. Damn…ah. Crap." She did that for another minute, finally dropping it to her lap. "It won't hold a signal." She turned to him. "I don't think I should drive in this. I'd probably run into a tree trying to get to the road, and even if I didn't, that road has a drop-off on both sides. I could, uh, just wait out here. I'm sure this will die down in a little bit." She looked at him, her eyes wide as she waited for him to say…something.

He frowned. Was she trying to get away from him? Did she want to sit in her cold truck instead of with him? "Why would you want to freeze out here when you can be warm inside?"

"I just hate to keep showing up and forcing you to spend time with me."

Forcing him ? He was bigger than she was. Stronger. She couldn't force him to do anything. He could crush her if he wanted to. He didn't, but he could. His brow scrunched up. He didn't understand when she said things that didn't really say anything at all. He wasn't sure what to say back. "If I wanted you to leave, I'd tell you to go."

She let out a breath that was taken by the sound of the wind outside. "I was trying to be polite." She shook her head and made a helpless sound. "I guess that in itself is a whole language, isn't it?" She took a breath. "A dumb one most of the time."

Jak thought about that. "So being polite is saying something you don't mean so the other person has to say the thing you do mean."

She laughed, the soft one he liked. "Pretty much." She turned toward him. "So, then. Jak, I'd like to come inside and get warm instead of sitting alone in my cold truck. Is that okay with you?"

"I told you it was."

Harper laughed. "Right. You did. Thank you. Then let's get back inside."