Her heart clutched as a wave of tenderness, of heat, swept over her. Followed by a swift chill as the word Yes swam through her head like a fever dream.
For a second there she’d thought he’d meant... But no. Maybe? She’d thought her arguments were very convincing, so why not?
Sable risked another glance. What was he thinking about? His grocery list? Maybe he was still mulling over how he could make sure the people of Radiance treated her right.
For he was a protector at heart. Always had been. Protecting Janie from the mess she’d been born into. Protecting the memory of his mother, a woman she’d never heard him speak ill of, even while the pain of her departure was written over every line in his face. Even protecting his father, mostly from himself.
He’d kissed her, it seemed, to protect her too.
But it hadn’t felt that way. It had felt as if a storm that had been brewing for days had finally broken. It had felt like coming home.
And this time, no single part of her leapt up and said, Stop! We can’t! Too complicated!
Because for a few beautiful moments it had been such pure relief to slip back to a much simpler time. When she was an anonymous girl who loved nothing more than taking photos of things that other people neglected, and falling for the brooding boy next door.
Sable coughed on her thoughts. Then coughed some more.
Rafe shot her a look. “You okay?”
She gave him a thumbs up, even though she wasn’t sure that was entirely true.
She’d only been caught up in a memory of feeling, not actually feeling those feelings, right? For surely the worst time to realise you were falling in...something with someone, was not the time to have a baby with them. How twisty was that?
Were her crumbling defences inevitable, or was she self-sabotaging? Was this whole thing a prime example of her putting herself in a “situation doomed to fail”, as her ex’s enabling therapist had so kindly put it?
“I’m just going to put the car away,” Rafe said, slowing as the edge of his property appeared. They’d come around the back way, not past her mother’s house.
“Sure,” Sable squeaked, then cleared her throat, not sure where “away” might be.
They trundled down his driveway, though he didn’t stop at the Airstream, instead hooking a left, past a large copse of elms, and liquid ambers in all their autumn glory, which was when she realised where they were heading.
In the direction of the old barn.
A thrill of anticipation—and trepidation—shot down her spine. If she was worried about how her memories were mixing dangerously with the present, the barn would show her exactly where she stood. For, while she might have blocked out their first not-real kiss, she’d not forgotten a single moment they’d spent in the loft atop the crumbling old ruin.
Memories flooded in so thick and fast she could barely keep up. Holding Rafe’s hand as they ran inside to get out of a rainstorm. The scent of old hay. The ladder to the loft. Fake candles making the place look so cosy and romantic. The days and nights spent snuggled up together in their secret place, debating over what their future might look like.
Only when they rounded the trees it was to find the barn was no more.
While it took her head a few moments to take in its replacement—a massive two-storey utilitarian building the size of a small aeroplane hangar—Sable’s heart got there all too quick. Squeezing so hard she let out a small noise. Like an ache she couldn’t contain.
It should have been less of a shock, for the thing had been held together by branches of the trees growing through it, littered with cracks in the walls, panels torn away by weather, the frame rotted over time. She wondered when it had finally collapsed. Or had Rafe torn it down too? Had he exorcised her from his life, the way he had his father?
Heart now beating in her ears, she watched in silence as a massive roller door in the side of the building opened with a loud rumble.
Rafe eased the car inside. And whatever trepidation and concern had been flickering about inside her disappeared as shock overtook it all.
Sensor lights flickered on revealing what amounted to a car collector’s paradise.
Rafe pulled into a space beside an old Bentley. Beside that sat a deep red vintage Ferrari. A gleaming Mustang crouched beyond that. And another. Early models, seriously rare. Car after spectacular car. Some covered in tarps. Others gleaming under the bright lights.
Gaze absorbing all there was to see, she noted a workshop. Down the far end a small office and kitchenette and bathroom. The ceiling was a mile above, held there by a criss cross of metal beams, except at the far end where a second floor had been built in. At the top of a set of thin stairs leading to a closed door.
She swallowed. If memory served, that was also where the loft had been. Their loft.
The car door opened with a snick beside her and she looked up to find Rafe, hand out. She took it, tingles and warmth coursing up her arm. She gently disentangled herself before he figured out, by some kind of osmosis, that she was going all gooey on him.
Then she glanced across to the far wall and saw it. In the same pressed tin as the Radiance Restoration sign, a series of big letters across the workshop wall saying, The Barn. And her knees nearly went out from under her.
Recovering, as well as she could, she asked, “What is this place?”
Rafe laughed, all deep and rumbly, a boot scuffing the polished concrete floor. “The shop is where the bulk of the work is done. This is my display case. I bring clients here from time to time. Temperature and humidity controlled. Special air-conditioning units for dust prevention.”
“Wow. The
