The Family You Make (Sunrise Cove #1)(8)



That’s when she realized she was shaking.

Swearing again, Levi sat up with some difficulty, but determined, he leaned against the bench, where he tucked her into his side so that they were sharing body heat, snuggling her in close. “Hug me,” he said. “I’m scared.”

She looked into his eyes. He wasn’t scared—or at least he wasn’t letting it show—but she took the out and pretended it was for him anyway, gratefully moving in against his body.

“We really are going to be okay,” he said softly near her ear.

And even though she knew he was just trying to make her feel better, the same way he’d done with his mom, she found herself nodding. “I know.” The guy had an optimistic outlook, like he truly believed deep in his soul that someone would come for them. Since she couldn’t remember anyone ever coming to her rescue, this blind faith was utterly foreign to her. That’s when she realized the weight of his arm had just gotten heavier. “Levi? Stay awake.”

“Tired.”

An adrenaline crash and also a likely concussion were causing that, but he needed to stay awake. “Hey, so how often do you come home to visit your family?” she asked urgently.

“Mostly only when it’s a command performance . . . by the one person on the planet who can guilt me into it.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Your mom?”

“She likes to remind me that thirty years ago she labored for well over twenty-four hours to birth me, ruining her figure in the process. Translation: I owe her.”

Jane started to say something like how horrible of her, but Levi’s voice had been warm with affection. They were quiet for a moment, in their bubble from the real world, Levi’s arm around her, her body curled into his side, sharing body heat. Daylight was fading as the snow swirled all around them, blocking out everything else.

“Any regrets?” he asked.

“You mean because we might die?”

“Let’s not.”

She let out a rough laugh. “Agree, let’s not.”

“So . . . ?”

She shrugged. “I hate regrets. I try really hard not to have them.”

“Which didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“Okay, fine, maybe there are a few regrets . . .” She drew a deep breath as she thought about how she’d lost touch with her grandpa. She supposed no matter how hard she’d tried, she did indeed have regrets. “I lost touch with someone important to me,” she admitted. “And the more time that goes by, the harder it is to figure out how to find my way back.”

Levi’s eyes held hers as he gave a barely-there nod of understanding. “I get that. I . . . hurt someone important to me once.” His gaze went faraway, like he was lost in the memories. “She wanted more than I was capable of giving her back then.”

She had to admit to being curious, but she was grateful he hadn’t pressed her for more details, so she had to afford him the same courtesy. “And now?” she asked.

“And now it’s too late.”

Something else she could understand all too well. “So we both suck,” she said.

He snorted, and they were quiet a moment.

“If you could have one thing,” he finally asked quietly, “whatever you want, right now, what would it be?”

That seemed like an unanswerable question. “I think you should go first on that one.”

His eyes were closed again, his voice slower than before, worrying her. “I’d want to see my niece, Peyton . . . Her dad just bailed on her and my sister, and she’s lost so much. I’d want one more day with her, taking her skiing or playing tea party, whatever she wanted to do.”

The words rumbled through his chest to hers, and warmed her every bit as much as his delicious body heat.

“Now you,” he reminded her. “Whatever you want, what would it be?”

She wasn’t actually sure. Maybe to have a family unit, like he did. Impossible with the life she led, of course. She came to work the ski season in Tahoe every year. The rest of the time, she was all over the world, wherever she was needed, working for organizations like Doctors Without Borders. Her next contract was already lined up in Haiti. The job was a labor of love. Hence the annual Tahoe gig, which paid her more over these two months than she would earn for the entire rest of the year. Plus, it was easier, fewer hours, and she loved the snowy terrain.

But none of that was why she really did it. Her reason was her own and deeply personal.

And not something she intended to share. “Well, I was going to say a cookies ’n’ cream cupcake from Cake Walk,” she quipped, needing to lighten the mood. “But now that just sounds shallow.”

Eyes still closed, he smiled. “There’s nothing shallow about a cookies ’n’ cream cupcake from Cake Walk. What else, Jane?”

“I guess if I could have one thing right now . . .” she repeated, stalling. “Um . . .” Maybe it would be to have enough battery to call Charlotte. When Jane was here in Tahoe, she stayed in a big old house owned by Dr. Charlotte Dixon. Charlotte was a trauma surgeon who collected people around her like some women collected shoes, and was the warmest, kindest, and most incredibly stubborn, bossy person Jane had ever met. Once Charlotte decided on having someone in her life, that was that. So yeah, Jane supposed if she could do one thing, it’d be to thank Charlotte for collecting her.

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