Zara met Noah in the kitchen again, wondering if the man ever slept. When she asked him, he said, “Very little, actually.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, accepting the cup of coffee he handed her.
“My mind never shuts off,” he said simply.
“There are pills for that, you know.” Their eyes met, and that zing between them was almost familiar now. Hot and quick and like lightning, but familiar.
“I’ve heard.” He nodded her toward the garage exit, and she went that way, fire erupting through her whole body when he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the door.
She moved on wooden legs, and he must’ve noticed, because he said, “Sorry,” dropped his hand, and hurried around toward the passenger door.
Zara threw her bags in the backseat and got behind the wheel. She turned on
