Gabriel's Hope (Chapter Three, page 1 of 10)


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By Saturday morning, Deidre was certain she never wanted to leave the ocean. She plopped an omelet onto Logan's plate then turned around to make her own.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I like it," she said, grinning.

"Nothing has gotten into me," he replied in a deadpan voice. He ate without waiting for her, his eyes either glued to her or the door.

"I guess the sea breeze is good for the libido," she continued. "You're a demon in the sack this weekend. Reminds me of when we just met."

"You think I'm a demon?"

She glanced at him. Was he offended or surprised? Deidre rolled her eyes without answering and went back to cooking her breakfast. She breathed in the ocean air. The bungalow cost as much as to rent for the weekend as a month of her apartment, but she'd never been happier.

"I never realized how much I missed nature. I've lived in Atlanta since I started college. Do you ever miss the countryside?" she asked.

"No."

"I really like it here."

She should definitely stay longer. She thought about it as she sprinkled cheese into the skillet. It wasn't like she was saving her money for anything. She'd be dead soon anyway.

No apologies, no regrets, she repeated the mantra she adopted when Wynn first diagnosed her as terminal.

"You want to stay here for the whole week?" she asked.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I think so. Isn't it the most beautiful place you've ever seen?"

"The lack of security is unsettling. There are no locks on the doors or windows, and only one route of egress in the case of an emergency."

Okay, the sex was phenomenal last night, but their conversations had gone further downhill. Logan was an accountant, not a security guard, yet he barricaded the doors with furniture before bed in case there were criminals wandering the beach. He flat out refused to go out after dark last night.

"Whatever. It's a full moon tonight," she said hopefully.

"Yes." His voice was thoughtful.

She dumped her omelet onto her plate and faced him, leaning against the counter to eat. He'd inhaled his breakfast. His green eyes were distant. At under six feet tall, Logan was still almost half a foot taller than she was.

"Bonfire?" she prodded. "Or, you know, just a quickie in the moonlight."

"No, I think I'm going to town tonight."

"Good idea. We can go out."

"No, just me."

"Care to explain why you want to go out on a Saturday night without your girlfriend?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"I'm ah … not sure." He didn't look at her. "I'll be back Monday."

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