This is where I will house uncensored chapters of a sensual nature from the story Phoenix Rising.

The first part here is an expanded version of chapter 28 from Phoenix Rising. If you haven't read that story, many of the events will not make sense. However, I doubt you need to have read PR in order to understand the rather, ahem, intimate scenes between Audrey and Nathan that occur later in the chapter. Folks, this one's rated M for a reason.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: "Written in the Scars"

The sunlight's glint off the storefront window almost made Garland miss the painting. In retrospect, he wished he had, but it captured him nonetheless, pulling him in like the Siren's call. Beautiful. Deadly. Inescapable.

Cerulean and cobalt swirled in waves on its canvas bleeding into the black depths of the ocean. Eyes shone from those waves. Ice blue. Clear. The only thing clear on the whole damn canvas.

And just like that, he remembered the day on the beach, the day she'd painted it. The challenge in her voice, the amusement. The wind caught her hat that day, carrying the covering down the beach as it simultaneously whipped her long dark hair about her face. She'd laughed huskily and spoken in half answers, keeping a secret only she knew existed, a secret that begged to be discovered.

For twenty-seven years, he'd tried to put her out of his mind. He'd kept busy. Raised a son who resented him. Poured himself into his job. Went fishing to think about nothing and instead thought about everything.

And she'd returned.

Middle-of-nowhere Ohio was where she'd been left. She was supposed to be safe. But no. It was as though she held an invisible dowsing rod that led her straight to Haven. Maybe it was the same compulsion Ephraim Brand had.

And just like that, the Troubles returned, too.

Nothing he'd done broke the cycle. Just an exercise in futility and he was back to where he'd begun: looking at that damn painting, smelling the damn sea air, and hating himself for caring so damn much.

Some part of him knew that afternoon on the beach that she was trouble.

Lucy wasn't particularly subtle. Garland snorted. Neither was Audrey, for that matter. Like a bull in a china shop, as the old adage goes.

Garland turned to walk away but caught his own reflection in the store window. Ice blue eyes stared back at him. Eyes in a sea of chaos.

Walk away. Walk away.

Instead, he found himself walking into the store, as though bound by an unseen chain being wound tightly, pulling him in, pulling him under, drowning him.

Drowning. Like Holly.

Holly. The love of his life. He had prized her and then taken his eyes off the prize. He'd been foolish as a young man, a young husband, a young father. The way he figured it, time hadn't improved him much, not if he kept tying himself to her, to Lucy.

"Good afternoon, Chief."

"Terry."

"Something I can help you with?"

"The painting in your window. I'd like to buy it."

The gray haired, bespectacled shopkeeper grimaced apologetically. "Oh, I'm sorry. I can't sell it to you. The gentleman over there just purchased it. I was about to retrieve it from the display and package it for him."

Garland looked toward the man whose back was to him, admiring other art pieces on display along the wall. As though sensing Garland's gaze on him, the other man turned around and tilted his chin in acknowledgement.

Brand.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

"A lovely piece, is it not?"

The chief ignored the other man's sentiment, nodded his head to Terry, and exited the shop.

But Brand pursued him.

"You're aware of the artist?"

Garland froze in his tracks.

"Of course, you are. Tell me something, Chief Wuornos. Why does no one speak of Lucy around here?"

"I think you know why," Garland replied through gritted teeth.

"How could I possibly? The last time I was in town…"

Garland spun around to face the other man. "You looked exactly as you do now." Brand opened his mouth to protest, but Garland shut him down. "Don't. Didn't like you back then. Can't say time's improved my opinion of you any."

"It's a shame, really. All these years later, and still, she pulls at you."

"She's been gone a lot of years. Makes no difference to me." Lies. Unconvincing ones at that.

"But she's not really gone, now is she? I think we both know Audrey is Lucy."

Garland remained silent.

"No protestations? You defy expectation. What is it like for you? You lost your wife. Lost Lucy. And now you watch Audrey with your son, and she's oblivious to your lingering regrets. And she and your son—" Brand broke off, his amusement uncontained, "they orbit one another, their circles growing smaller and smaller until the inevitable collision. She'll destroy him. It is her nature."

"Not her nature. Your nature."

"Actually, I think it is yours. Perhaps that is why you and Lucy were so… companionable. What would Nathan think?"

"You leave him out of this."

"I'm afraid that is veritably impossible. Their lives have been entwined far longer than either realizes." He paused for effect. "Yet."

"Why are you here? And don't give me a bullshit answer about a family legacy when we both know it's a fabrication."

"It's in my blood."

"You bring the Troubles with you."

"Don't be absurd."

"See, I'm willing to bet that when you leave, you'll take the Troubles with you."

Brand blinked in put-on confusion. "But why would I ever want to leave?"

Garland felt his control slip, the pressure building inside. Tightness. Straining. A superficial crack formed along sidewalk, inching its way toward Brand, who merely looked down at the fissure and smiled.

The crack stopped in its tracks.

"So where is everyone?" Audrey asked. As she recalled, the girls' home always bustled with activity, but the relative calm and quiet that had settled over the premises gave the stone house an eerie feel.

Sister Frances replied, "Sister Agatha and Sister Lucia have taken some of the girls to perform a service project at a local nursing home. One of our girls is ill, so I stayed behind to tend to her needs."

"Sister Agatha," Audrey spoke the old nun's name with an air of nostalgia. "How is she?"

Sister Frances considered Audrey's question before replying with a measured, "She seems to be well in body and spirit both."

Along the hallway, group photos hung. Nathan stopped when he came to one from the late 90s. From it, a young Audrey peered out. She wasn't smiling, exactly, not the brilliant smile he'd seen her flash on occasion, but she didn't look miserable either. She wore a crisp white blouse and a skirt, as did all the girls in the photo. Her blond hair was longer, from his estimation, and pulled up into a ponytail that draped well past her shoulder.

"It's you."

Sister Frances looked at the photo and then to Audrey. "I've passed by these pictures so many times, I should have recognized you from there."

"I'm just glad I was here," Audrey acknowledged.

"Yes, this home provides an invaluable service to our girls. It is my privilege to be here, to help facilitate its continued operation."

But as Nathan focused on Audrey, he knew the nun had misinterpreted Audrey's words. It was relief he saw on her face, not gratitude. Some part of her must have feared she hadn't been here, that her life as Audrey Parker had been nothing but a lie, a false memory.

But it made no sense for Lucy to have been a grown woman and—what—? Become younger? Then again, Sally Harrington seemed to have grown younger overnight, and it all went back to Brand. Having been married to him, Lucy had the strongest connection of all to Brand. As much as Nathan hated the thought, perhaps the answers lay with him, after all.

"Let's sit for a spell," Sister Frances suggested. "May I offer you some water?"

"No, thank you." Audrey replied. Nathan merely shook his head.

Sister Frances sat on a wooden chair in what Audrey remembered as the common room. She and Nathan sat on a sofa perpendicular to the chair, though neither relaxed fully.

"So Ms. Parker, you've been gone ten years. Why come back now?"

"Please call me Audrey."

"Very well. Audrey."

"I've been trying to put together the pieces of my past."

The nun's weathered face showed her surprise in the form of her eyes widening. "I'm not sure what assistance we can offer. You should already know everything we know. When you left, did you not receive your information?"

"No, and I'd really like to see my records, how I came to be here, why I was never adopted out."

"As you know, with older children, it is sometimes difficult to place them in forever homes."

Audrey clarified, "I was an infant." Supposedly.

That information seemed to take the nun aback, but she made no comment to that effect. "Ten years ago you left? That means you would've been born in 1982? 1983?"

"83."

Sister Frances thought for a moment. "Those records will not be easy to come by. We moved some things around a couple of years ago, the older records mostly. I'll be happy to search for them, but it may take some time to locate what you need."

"We've come a really long way," Nathan interjected. "If there's any way you could expedite the search for them…"

"I'll see what I can find, but it may be best for you to come back in the morning, say 9:30. Is that manageable?"

Audrey nodded. "Yes, thank you. Let me leave you my number in case you need to reach me before then." She retrieved a card from the small purse she carried and passed it to the sister.

Nathan's boots crunched in the gravel of the driveway outside the house. "Sister Frances seemed pretty helpful."

His hand went to the small of Audrey's back. Though he spoke casually, her stomach was doing somersaults at his touch. Such a simple gesture and already she wanted to melt into him. "Yeah, she did," she agreed, the calmness of her voice belying the tumult she felt inside. "I'm glad you're here with me."

Just one sentence, six small words, but his actions weren't small.

"Wouldn't be anywhere else."

And Audrey knew he meant it. "We still haven't made it past Sister Agatha, though."

"You're worried she won't let Sister Frances share your information?"

"Not just that but that maybe they've flagged my file or something. Maybe Sister Frances herself will find a reason not to share it with me. I just—I wonder what's in there. Could it help to explain how it's possible for me to have been Lucy? Of course, at this point, I'd settle for just knowing how I got here."

"Do you see that?" Nathan asked, his volume dropping.

"See what?"

"There's movement inside the rental car."

"You think someone's in there?" Audrey asked.

"Yep."

The two approached the car, Nathan moving to the driver's side and Audrey to the passenger's side, covering the doors on both side of the vehicle. Sure enough, crouched in the back was a teenage girl. Though her heavily applied eyeliner gave her a passing resemblance to a raccoon, she would have managed to be quite pretty if not for the scowl on her face.

"What's your name?" Nathan asked after opening the door.

And immediately, the scowl dissipated, replaced by a swaggering smile. "Anything you want it to be," the girl replied, the sultry intonation unmistakable.

A teenage Lolita. Great. This was the type of trouble Audrey could do without. "Answer the question," she ordered.

The girl glared at Audrey. "Teddy. Well, Theodora."

"I can see why you go by Teddy," Audrey replied drily.

Nathan shot a glance at Audrey before returning his attention to the teen.

"Teddy, do you live here?" Audrey asked.

"Wow. Are you a detective or something?" The girl's tone was over-the-top sarcastic.

Patience. Patience. Patience. "Actually, I am. My name is Audrey. This is Nathan."

Teddy's gaze immediately went to Nathan. "Hi Nathan."

Nathan folded his arms across his chest. "You do know it's not a good idea to get into strangers' cars."

"We're not strangers anymore. Besides," her eyes swept over him from top to bottom, "you can drive me around anytime."

Creepy inappropriate. "Okay. That's it. Out of the car," Audrey commanded.

Teddy's chin jutted in defiance. "You're not the boss of me."

Audrey halfway snorted. "Do you want Sister Agatha to put you on kitchen duty?"

The girl's eyes narrowed as she considered Audrey's question. "The car's a rental, so you aren't from here. How do you know Sister Agatha?"

Smart kid, poor choices. Audrey had seen that more than enough times. "I lived here. Off and on—mostly on—for eighteen years."

Teddy grimaced. "That blows."

"It wouldn't have been my first choice," Audrey admitted. "But I am grateful."

Teddy crossed her arms sullenly. "Seriously? You're going to give me the 'be grateful' b.s.?"

"No, I'm not. Where are you trying to go?"

The girl's eyes focused downward on her hands. She was picking at the skin next to her thumbnail. "Away. Just…away."

"Why don't you come out of there so we can talk?" Audrey suggested.

"We're talking now," Teddy pointed out.

"Fine. Then I'm coming in."

"Your reverse psychology isn't going to work with me."

"Please. Last thing I am is someone's counselor." Audrey slid into the seat next to the girl who rolled her eyes before eyeing the blonde closely.

"Do you have any kids?"

"No."

"Do you want one?" Teddy asked, only half joking.

"I live in a one-room apartment. I don't really do the domestic thing."

"You don't live with him?" Teddy asked, pointing her thumb in Nathan's direction.

"No."

"Oh. Never mind then."

"I'm just going to …" Nathan pointed toward the house. "Yeah."

Unbelievable. The man who would take a bullet and not even blink wouldn't take on a teenage girl. Oh, he was so getting razzed later. "You do know he's too old for you," Audrey stated, not waiting for Nathan to be out of earshot.

"Now maybe, but in a couple of years, he won't be."

And Nathan began to walk more quickly.

"Yes," Audrey laughed, "he will. So what's the deal? Why are you trying to take off?"

"What do you care?"

"I've been there. Remember?"

Teddy rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. "I have a little brother I hardly ever get to see."

All bark, very little bite.

"Where is he?" Audrey asked.

"He lives with a family in town."

"But you're here," Audrey replied, more so to herself than anyone.

With exaggerated awe, Teddy replied, "Gee, miss, no wonder you're a detective."

Audrey cringed. "God, do I sound that obnoxious when I'm sarcastic?"

"Look, you were the one stating the obvious. Sarcasm is perfectly reasonable under those circumstances. You were totally asking for it."

She made a point, but Audrey wasn't about to concede that to the kid. "I was thinking aloud. There's a difference. Will you tell me about him?"

Teddy met Audrey's eyes and held her gaze, her own resolve wavering. Finally, she took a deep breath and began to unload on the stranger. "His name is Sam. I'd do anything for him. Actually, I tried. It wasn't enough."

"What happened?" Audrey gently prodded.

Teddy willed the tears that were beginning to sting her eyes to go away. What was she thinking anyway? Talking about this with the blonde? What good did talking ever do anyway? "Seriously, why do you care?"

"Because I know what's it's like to grow up without your family with you. I know what it's like to wonder where they are, what they're doing…"

And damn if Teddy didn't believe the woman. "Our dad took off before Sammy was born. It was tough, but my mom held us together. She worked two jobs. I kept Sammy after school. Fed him. Played with him. Got him ready for bed. I even taught him to read. He's such a smart boy."

"What changed?"

"Mom didn't come home one day. She called, said she was going away for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks and now who knows? I waited, tried to carry on as usual, and we managed for a few weeks. I got Sammy ready for school, made sure he got there, picked him up after, helped him with homework, made him dinner, and tried to come up with a good excuse for why Mom wasn't there."

"You must've been exhausted."

Teddy shrugged. "I could've kept it up, but I got in trouble for truancy when Sam had the flu. And when the truancy officer showed up at our apartment and there was no sign of our mom, that set everything in motion."

"I'm sorry."

"He's being fostered with some rich family, and I'm—well, you see where I am."

"Getting in trouble isn't going to help him any."

"I can't let Sam think that I've left him, too."

"Teddy, I'm sure he doesn't."

The girl looked away in disgust. "You don't understand. Up until they took him from me, we had never spent a night apart."

"Have you heard from your mom?"

Teddy shook her head. "I think she's gotten mixed up in some stuff. I don't know where she is."

"What can you tell me about the family Sam is staying with?"

Sister Frances's face blanched as she looked out the window of the orphanage toward the parked car. "I thought she was upstairs, sick in bed! This is the last straw!"

Nathan held out his hand to halt the nun. "Give 'em a few minutes. Let 'em talk. Audrey has a way of helping people."

"That girl. I just don't know what we're going to do with her. She's defiant. She lies more easily than she tells the truth."

"I think she's scared."

"But she has everything she could possibly need here."

"Does she?" Nathan asked.

Sister Frances opened her mouth to respond, thought better of it, and closed it again. All she could do was walk out onto the porch and wait.

A few minutes later, Audrey and Teddy walked toward the porch of the stone house where Nathan and Sister Frances stood.

When Teddy reached the nun, she said, "I would like to apologize to you, Sister Frances. I pretended to be sick and then I tried to sneak away."

"Child, your actions are serious." Sister Frances was firm but not harsh, Audrey noted. Underlying her words, she could see the genuine concern in the nun's eyes coupled with weariness.

"I know, and I'm willing to accept the consequences of my actions."

Sister Frances was positively dumbfounded. She had been gearing herself up for a battle of wills with the teen, but Teddy's deference eliminated some of her earlier indignation.

"We will discuss this further, but I do accept your apology, Theodora."

Teddy looked to Audrey. "You'll try?"

"I'll do my best," Audrey promised.

"Thank you." Without another word, Teddy rushed toward Audrey and threw her arms around her.

Audrey patted the girl's back. "Don't thank me just yet."

Nathan looked at Audrey quizzically. What had she promised?

"You were good with her," Nathan commented after Sister Frances and Teddy went inside.

Audrey shoved her hands in the pocket of her corduroy jacket. "Eh, I don't do the kid thing very well."

"You could've fooled me."

Audrey's eyes scanned the field as they walked to the car. In the air, she caught a whiff of cow patty, and the years melted away. She was sixteen again, daydreaming while finishing chores. "It's hard to be her age. All the other girls have their moms to show them the way. Teddy was trying to be a mom to her little brother, and now they're separated."

"Parker?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're kind of incredible." He brought up his hand to caress her cheek lightly and she leaned into the touch, wanting to be closer to him. Without another word, he leaned in and brushed his nose against her cheek, following the path his fingertips had taken. Their noses bumped affectionately and their eyes slipped closed, as they reveled in their proximity.

"Nathan," she murmured before he brushed her lips lightly, their breaths mingling for a moment. Her world was off-kilter, a haze of gratification and anticipation. She wanted the moment to last—uncomplicated, beautiful. They were just a man and a woman. Nathan. Audrey. No identity crisis. No Troubles sucking the oxygen from around them. Just a kiss between them, just hope. Love.

She loved him.

She was in love with him.

It snuck up on her, picking up its intensity like the whispering fall wind around them.

Audrey's hand came up and caressed the back of his neck gently, making his entire body shudder in response. He pressed closer, his hands on her hips and her back against the passenger door.

With a sigh, he broke the kiss and leaned down, his forehead against hers. "Can't get over it. It's nice to be able to do this in public."

"It's nice to do this, in general," she replied, her hands against his chest.

He backed off slightly, realizing their location. While they weren't in Haven enduring the watchful eyes of just about everyone there, it was almost certainly uncouth to make out in the driveway of a Catholic orphanage.

"You're making this hard. Difficult," he amended.

"Good."

With a half-smile, Nathan succumbed to one last kiss before he reached for the latch next to Audrey and opened the car door for her. "So what did you promise Teddy to try to do?"

Audrey looked at him sideways, a glint in her eye. "Are you hungry at all?"

"I suppose I could eat. Keep my strength up."

"Which you're so going to need later."

At that, Nathan's brows shot up and Audrey grinned wickedly.

"What does this have to do with Teddy?"

"You'll see."

A few minutes later, the duo walked into Pies and Pints. The rustic, old-world charm of the restaurant struck Nathan as antithetical to middle-of-America Ohio. Indeed, it seemed like it had been plucked from a Mediterranean island, with its stucco walls, fresco paintings, carved furniture, and red-tiled roof.

"This place hasn't changed much," Audrey noted.

"Did you come here often?"

"You could say that. I waitressed here in high school."

Add that to the list of things Nathan discovered about Audrey on this trip. For some reason, he couldn't quite picture the actual waitressing part, though he could imagine her fumbling attempts at making small talk with customers.

God help the customer who crossed the line with her.

A hostess wearing a peasant blouse and black skirt greeted them. "Welcome to Pies and Pints. How many are in your party tonight?"

"Two," Nathan replied.

"Right this way, please."

The young hostess showed Nathan and Audrey to a booth. "Is this all right?" she asked.

"It's fine," Audrey replied, her eyes darting over the dining room.

The hostess set down two menus. "Your server will be here in just a moment."

"You looking for someone?" Nathan asked after the hostess retreated to her station.

"Yes. No." Audrey replied focusing her eyes on her companion. "I kind of wish I could high-five my sixteen year old self, though."

"I'd like to see that," Nathan chuckled. "Why?"

"I'm feeling really good right now, and you're a huge part of that. I just wish young Audrey Parker could've known what it was like to have someone like you in her life."

"But those experiences made you the person you are today. The good, the bad."

"Yeah, but at the time, I thought I could've done with a lot less character building, you know?"

Nathan frowned. "I'm sorry, Audrey."

"What? No. I'm fine. It wasn't all bad."

Nathan didn't get the chance to respond because their server arrived at the table. "Hi folks. My name is Kelly, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you out with an appetizer or something from the bar?"

Audrey looked at Nathan, mock seriousness filling her voice. "I know you trust me with your life, but do you trust me with your beer?"

"Sure."

Audrey turned back to the server. "Do you have Fat Heads on tap?"

"We do."

"We'll take a couple pints and an order of bruschetta to get us started."

"I'll get that right out to you," the waitress replied before leaving the table.

Audrey fingered through the menu. "I wonder if it still tastes the same. The food's good, but after working here, I couldn't eat Italian for years."

"Are you about to ruin Italian for yourself all over again?"

"I've had enough distance," she reasoned.

"Any recommendations?"

She perused the menu. "Crisp bacon, gorgonzola and arugula pizza. If I start to go all Pavlov's dogs on you, you'll know why."

"When in Xenia…" Nathan studied her. "So when I asked if you were looking for someone…"

"Right. I was hoping you hadn't noticed. So, uh, Stephanie Mittermeier's family owned this place, and if I'm lucky, they still do."

"Mittermeier. That's a good Italian name if ever I heard one," Nathan deadpanned.

"About as Italian as Wuornos."

"At least the Mittermeiers won't be mistaken for a serial killer."

Audrey grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was nervous, tried to be funny, and failed miserably."

But the name Mittermeier stuck with Nathan. It was somehow familiar. "Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't she the one who dared you to walk across the top of the swing set when you were a kid?"

"Yeah."

"And you fell and broke your wrist."

"That's the one."

"Made you hate heights."

"Hey, I braved the Ferris wheel with you."

"Only because you were goaded into it. I thought you hated her. 'She devil' comes to mind."

"It was kind of a mutual thing. She used to taunt me for having no parents, and I stole Josh Hopkins from her last time I was in town. I mean, for like, two seconds. It was funny, really. I spent all this time in high school crushing on him, and once I got him, meh."

Nathan's brows rose.

Audrey shrugged. "I was eighteen. Kid stuff. Besides, she's married to him now. They have a foster son…"

"Whose sister is Teddy," Nathan pieced together. "And the she-devil, that's who is going to help you with Teddy?"

"I didn't say this was going to be easy."

"Let me get this straight. The same girl who gave you hell for being in an orphanage is allowed to foster children?"

"She used what she could to hurt me, and I used what I could to hurt her."

"And yet you worked in her family's restaurant?"

"That was not intentional. I worked here before her parents bought it and stayed on after. They were good to me. Honest. Hardworking. Their daughter…not so much."

"So the plan is to hang around here on the off chance she shows up?"

"No. The plan is to eat a great meal, and while we're here, we'll find out if the family still owns it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Fat Heads and bruschetta," Kelly, the waitress, interrupted as she removed two frothy glasses of amber liquid from her tray and a platter of bruschetta, along with two smaller plates. "Have you had a chance to look over the menu?"

Audrey looked to Nathan, who nodded his assent for her to order for them. "We'd like the crisp bacon, gorgonzola and arugula pizza. Thin crust."

Kelly made a note on her order pad. "I'll get that order right in. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Actually, there is," Audrey replied. "I grew up in the area but have been away for several years. I was wondering if the Mittermeiers still own the restaurant."

"They retired a couple of years back. Their daughter runs the place now."

Just like that, indeed. "How is Stephanie?" Audrey asked.

Kelly looked uncomfortable. "She's…fine."

"Does she spend much time here?"

"Actually, yes, she does. In fact, she normally stops by in the evening to check on things."

"When she shows up, could you send her my way?"

"If your service has not been satisfactory, please give me the chance to make it right," Kelly stammered.

"You're doing fine," Nathan assured the girl.

"Stephanie is an old…friend of mine. We grew up together but lost touch over the years. I'd really like to reconnect."

"I can't guarantee when she'll be here," Kelly explained apologetically.

"We've got time," Nathan said.

At that, Audrey looked to Nathan and mouthed, "Thank you." He was so incredibly patient, particularly considering this was yet another one of her wild-haired ideas.

As it turned out, they did not have to wait long, for within a few minutes, they noticed their server speaking with a dark haired woman and pointing in their direction.

With perfect posture and the graceful movements of a dancer, the woman made her way to Audrey and Nathan's booth. "Audrey Parker! This is a surprise!" The brunette sounded positively enthusiastic as she greeted Audrey, but the disdain in her eyes could not be veiled.

"Nathan, this is Stephanie Mittermeier."

Stephanie held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers to show a rather audaciously large ring. "Actually, it's Hopkins now. I married Josh. You remember him, right?" The saccharine sweet voice was laced with venom. Audrey recognized it all too well.

And just like that, she was ten years younger, embroiled in a battle of wills against the she-devil. "Who?" Audrey replied blankly. At Stephanie's disgusted expression, Audrey shook her head and said in an equally, overly sweet voice, "I'm sorry. Bad joke. Stephanie, this is Nathan Wuornos, my…partner."

"How forward thinking of you," Stephanie commented. "Of course, there are those of us who prefer the bonds of matrimony to being," she lifted her fingers to make air quotes, "'partners'."

Audrey's eyes narrowed. "Funny. The lack of a wedding ring never was a problem for you before."

"Audrey and I work together at the Haven, Maine, Police Department," Nathan supplied, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You're a little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?" Stephanie asked.

Audrey replied sharply, "We aren't here on police business."

Stephanie expelled the tiniest of huffs. "I can't fathom what would ever compel you to come back here. You have no connection to Xenia."

Audrey had an image of an old western movie flash in her mind's eye. She could almost picture a showdown between two gunslingers at high noon.

'This town ain't big enough for the both of us.'

The absurd thought brought a chuckle burbling to the surface. She had to fight it down. This was surreal. Forget everything she and Nathan had faced in Haven. Seeing Stephanie Mittermeier—no, Hopkins—for the first time in a decade seemed a far less pleasant problem to solve. And what she was hoping to convince the woman who stood before her was an impossible task.

"I've just been to St. Mary's."

Stephanie sniffed. "Oh. Home sweet home, then."

"Something like that."

"I never imagined you were all that close with the nuns. No offense, Audrey, but you were never the holy type."

"We all come from somewhere. I'm just trying to find out where that is for me."

The sour expression on Stephanie's face softened. "Well, then. I hope you find the answers you're looking for."

"But..."

"No buts," Stephanie shook her head. "I know you and I didn't always see eye to eye growing up…"

"Every chance you got, you gave me hell."

"You didn't exactly make my life a picnic either," Stephanie defended. "But I am sorry that I wasn't always kind to you about your situation."

"I met someone today. Teddy Green. Do you know her?"

Stephanie shuddered. "With a name like that and an attitude to match, she's impossible to forget. She has shown up at our house a few times."

"You have custody of her little brother, Sam."

"You haven't changed a bit. Still as nosey as ever."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Stephanie glared at her.

"That's what I wanted to talk with you about." Audrey took a deep breath before laying out the situation to her nemesis.

"The pizza was unusual," Nathan commented as he opened the door to their room at the bed and breakfast. It was an innocuous comment, bland, and completely contradictory to the nerves he was sure he would feel fluttering in his stomach, if only he could actually feel.

But Audrey did make him feel. It was more than the press of her warmth, the tactile sensations returning to his dead nerves whenever she touched him. It was the hope she sprang in him, the joy he could find even in the mundane when he was with her, the way she made him laugh, the way she challenged him. And he'd seen a side of her tonight he had never seen before. Audrey Prudence Parker could be catty. Watching the interplay between her and Stephanie Mittermeier was like watching a game of ping-pong. The back and forth was head spinning, a bit uncomfortable, immature, and oddly amusing at the same time.

This was the woman he loved, decidedly imperfect. And yet, perfect for him. He wanted a life with her. The thought seized him. He wanted to give her the home she'd never had, the family she'd never experienced.

You're getting ahead of yourself, Wuornos. The only future you've discussed with Parker is an apocalyptical one, not the white picket fence, two kids, and a dog scenario.

And there were no guarantees. There never were, of course, but with her, with the questions about her past, who's to say where those answers would lead her?

Stop over thinking. Just enjoy being with her.

"Think it'll keep up your strength?" Audrey asked, looking over her shoulder knowingly at him.

"Guess we'll find out." The words sounded far more confident than he felt.

The room, which had seemed so spacious earlier, suddenly seemed much smaller. Audrey sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her shoes and socks. The scar on the bottom of her foot caught her attention.

Was this fair to Nathan, to draw him even closer when she had no idea of what being Lucy Ripley meant?

The shift in their relationship was one she welcomed, which was odd considering a few weeks ago, she never would have thought they would be on the brink of so much more.

But she had been someone else, lived an entirely different existence, and now it was coming back. Who had Lucy been to the Chief? It was so hard to imagine a romantic relationship with Garland Wuornos, but nearly thirty years ago, who knows? And Ephraim Brand? He held so many answers to her past, but Audrey couldn't help but think those answers would come at a steep price.

And then there was Nathan. He wanted nothing more from her than to be there for her, to be with her. He had been her best friend first. Sometimes she thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

"I still can't believe you pulled that off."

Audrey was so lost in her own thoughts, Nathan's words only served to confuse her. It must have shown on her face because Nathan elaborated. "With Stephanie. Not the shoes."

"Oh, right. I don't know that I have entirely, but maybe it will help. Teddy keeping Sam after school everyday instead of daycare, at least it's something."

"It'll mean the world to Teddy," Nathan opined.

"Am I nosey?" Audrey asked abruptly.

"Yes," Nathan replied, perhaps a bit too quickly for Audrey's taste. "Why does it bother you what Stephanie thinks?" he challenged.

"I'm not bothered."

"If you say so."

"I'm not bothered," Audrey reiterated leaning back on her hands. "I'm not. Stephanie is kind of like my Duke, only in a shinier package. She pushes my buttons."

"But you're not bothered."

"Okay, so she said something."

Nathan smirked. "She said a lot of things."

"True. I kind of think she liked hearing herself talk. But she said I have no real connection to Xenia. She's right. I have no family. Only a few friends left here. Lucy was far more connected to Haven. Me too. So why here?"

"Come again?"

"Why Xenia, Ohio? Why was I brought up here?"

"Why not? Seems just as good as any place to grow up."

"But someone must've brought me here. Maybe I brought myself here. As Lucy, I mean. But why? My life would be so much easier if I'd leave all the why's alone."

"The fact that you ask why is what makes you a good cop. The nosiness helps, too."

He sat next to her on the bed. "Is that why you entered law enforcement? A natural curiosity?"

The weight shift on the bed—his nearness—made Audrey suddenly feel flushed. She tried not to look at him—his straight nose, the curve of his lips, his perfect chin—too distracting. "Not really. I wanted to make a difference, which I guess makes me one walking, talking cliché."

"No, it doesn't. You do make a difference. Sometimes I think back to what it was like before you showed up, and it seems…" Nathan's voice trailed off as he stared up at the ceiling.

She dared to look at him. "It seems…," Audrey encouraged.

"Wrong somehow, like something was missing. And I don't mean the sense of touch," Nathan quickly added, meeting her gaze. "I don't know. Just…I kept thinking…is this all? And now, I-" His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he hesitated.

"What were you going to say?"

Nathan sheepishly admitted, "I look forward to every day with you."

"You care about me," Audrey responded in a sing-song way, her voice teasing.

"You know I do." His tone was far more serious than hers, quickly sobering her near-giddy banter.

"How long?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, a small smile curling his lips. "You got under my skin from the beginning." Her annoyance—not hysteria, annoyance—over being in a car halfway hanging over the side of a cliff was the first sign that she wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met. Then there was her fascination with the unexplained and the odd, coupled with the fact she didn't take crap from anyone, all of which served to further intrigued him. "I like your sarcasm, the way you handle yourself. How you care about people. You're awkward as hell with them," he added with a grin, which she met with a good-natured eye rolling. "But you care. Like today with Teddy. Not sure when it became more. I mean, I may have noticed you when I cut you out of that cocoon and saw what was under all those pantsuits you used to wear."

"You told me you didn't look." She poked his arm.

"Might've downplayed that. Or when we went to the opening of the Second Chance bistro and you wore that blue dress and," he smiled, "realized you'd left on the price tag."

"Not one of my finer moments."

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, "but you're not wrapped up in your looks. You're smart, but it's not at the expense of others."

"But you never acted on any of this, not until a few days ago."

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Say what?"

"I couldn't…I couldn't just sweep you into my arms. First off, I'm pretty sure you would've tried to kick my ass."

"Succeeded."

"Tried, not succeeded," Nathan countered, which elicited a grin from her. "And you've become too important to our town, to me." With that, he took a deep breath. "I couldn't risk scaring you off."

"I'm not that skittish."

"I never had any reason to believe that what I feel for you might be reciprocated until Lady Cassandra and the visions."

"And just what do you feel for me?" The words had come out quickly, but immediately, Audrey wished she could reel them back in. She hopped off the bed and walked to the French doors to pull the curtain closed in an attempt to regain her emotional balance. "Okay. Rewind. I don't want to put you on the spot. I'm not good at this."

"No, you're really not," he conceded as he followed her across the room. Standing behind her, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, enveloping her in his warmth. "But neither am I. Didn't you tell me on more than one occasion that I've got no game?"

Audrey lifted her fingertips to her lips. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to amend that statement." She turned to face him. "We've complicated things. We've joked about the office pool—or I've joked, anyway—but I don't want to harm your career or reputation."

"Parker, we live in a town where kids can cause objects to spontaneously combust, men can age 60 years in a matter of hours, and stuffed animals come to life. I think my reputation is the least of my worries."

"I thought—well, the other morning when you took me home, you were worried about it."

"Seems short-sighted now."

"But after everything that's happened in the last few days, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to just turn around and never look back. More than anything, I don't want to hurt you, and I'm so scared that's what I'm going to do without even trying."

"So are you telling me you're going to walk away?" he asked, his breath hitching.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not that good of a person."

"Audrey," he gently admonished.

"You have been the one person that I absolutely trust. You put up with my craziness, all the questions I have about myself. You've kept me going when I've wanted to give up. You make me laugh. You're a good man." She grinned wickedly. "And you're also hot."

"Hot-hot or fever-hot? Just for clarification purposes. Because last time it was fever-hot."

Audrey saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. Wordlessly, she rested her hands on his waist, her fingers slipping in his belt loops, and her thumbs brushing the flesh of his abdomen. She looked up at him lazily, her desire mingling with his. "I want this. I want you."

With that small encouragement, his hands went to the hem of her shirt. He could feel her warmth and hear the catch in her breath as his hands dipped under the shirt and his fingers brushed against her skin, feather-light. A throaty giggle escaped from her.

"Ticklish," she explained.

"I'll have to remember that." He began to slide his hands upward, bringing her shirt with them. Audrey lifted her arms over her head making it is easier for Nathan to remove the article. His eyes took her in as she stood before him clad in a navy blue bra, its darkness a deep contrast to her pale porcelain skin. Her breasts were not large, but with each breath she took, they rose slightly, peeking further out of the cups. Need zipped through him. She was stunning. Her smooth skin, her taut abdomen, the little freckle near her belly button…just beautiful.

Noting his look of appreciation, as well as his growing bulge, she reached behind herself and unfastened the clasp of the undergarment before tossing it aside. With eagerness, he placed his palm under one of her mounds, coaxing it into a rosy peak with his thumb. He dipped his head, taking the peak into his mouth, his tongue darting over and around.

Audrey's small hands twined with his hair, urging him closer even as she arched against him. More. More. More.

A tiny protest escaped from her lips as his mouth traveled downward, trailing kisses along her abdomen until he reached her belly button. He knelt, almost in reverence; all the while his hands lingered over the button of her jeans. He looked up, saw the slight parting of her lips, and then their eyes locked. Wordlessly, she touched his face, tenderly, willing all she felt for him to be literally felt by him. He turned his head, brushing his lips over the inside of one wrist.

This was really going to happen. They were going to do this. It had been so long for him, so long since he'd felt anything—especially down there—except for those few nights when his dreams were spurred by memories of how it felt to find release, to be a whole man and not the ghost of one.

And Audrey, the woman he loved, was offering herself to him. What if—what if he'd forgotten how to make love? What if he lost control and it ended too quickly?

"Are you nervous?" Audrey's words sliced through his thoughts. There was no teasing, no challenge to the question, only sincerity.

Damn. She'd read him like a book. "Me? No. You?"

"What? No." She threw him a look like he was crazy, but it quickly dissolved as she grudgingly admitted with a smile, "Okay. Yes. Maybe a little."

"Me too." Nathan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I don't want to mess this up."

"We aren't going to mess this up, though I can draw you a diagram if you'd like."

"Not necessary," he replied huskily as he pulled apart the enclosure on the denim she wore and methodically slid her pants and navy panties to the floor. She stepped from the heap, and Nathan drank her in. She was petite, but the gentle swell of her hips and the firmness of her slender thighs made him quite certain she already held power over him.

"I want to feel every inch of you." His voice was thick with emotion, with want.

"You're overdressed for that."

But her words and thoughts were quickly forgotten as Nathan pressed tiny kisses along her knee. Slowly working his way up her leg, he flicked the tip of his tongue against the smooth skin of her inner thigh. Audrey half-gasped, half-moaned as her legs began to quiver. He was close. So, so close. Not close enough. Not…oh.

His index finger slid against her, moving easily against the slickness of her folds. He teased the finger deeper, gliding into her tight sheath, and then a second one, rubbing her, filling her.

And then his mouth replaced the digits.

At his first taste of her essence, Audrey's fingers dug into Nathan's shoulders as she tried to steady herself against the onslaught of bliss. He pushed his tongue into her, licking his way to the tiny button swollen with her desire until finally he circled over and around it, each twitch of response guiding him. Audrey felt as though she was rising, being carried by his caresses, his attention. It was too much and not enough and….oh. His hands went to her buttocks to hold her to his mouth as he dipped his tongue inside her again, penetrating her tightness, feeling for her nub, the bundle of nerves that made her tremble under his ministration. He began to lave her harder, faster. Her body stiffened even as he held her close, until her cry burned through him as she found release.

A shuddering sigh escaped her as his lips traveled upward, along the plane of her abdomen, to the valley between her breasts. She could barely catch her breath, even as his kisses moved from the ball of her shoulder, and across her collarbone, his tongue leaving a heated trail in its wake. He finally settled at the base of her throat, burying his lips against the hollow there, where he could feel each frantic flutter of her pulse.

He was going to leave a love bite. She was quite certain of it. Audrey was also quite certain that as long as he made her feel the way she felt right now, she didn't care if he left a whole connect-the-dots atlas of lovebites. In his arms, she felt alive and free and loved.

She felt like herself.

Finally, his lips traveled to hers, requesting entrance. She could faintly taste herself on them.

But Nathan needed more of her, more contact.

As though reading his thoughts, Audrey broke the kiss and began to slowly, deliberately unbutton his shirt until she could finally slide it over his shoulders. She found herself speechless, staring at his form. Yes, as she had surmised before, clothing did not do him justice. His strong chest and sculpted abdomen were dotted with faint scars, and she almost thought she could map his history. With some of them, she thought it was a wonder he hadn't been killed. The errant thought made her chest tighten.

He no longer had a bandage over his wound from three days ago—which surprised her less than realizing that the flesh had already knitted itself back together. Three parallel marks, pink with their newness, held her attention. Without another word, she pressed her lips to the new scars. In a strange way, these scars had brought them together, but they were held together by something far more powerful than the faint pink lines.

Audrey lifted her gaze, locking eyes with him. The expression on his face was different from the carefully controlled man she had known over the last year. She could see the rawness of emotion in his eyes, the desire. The love. Without a word, they crashed into one another. Lips and teeth, hearts and minds. Nathan pulled her tightly against himself, her skin against his, her lips against his. He was tasting her. Savoring her. His mouth moved against hers. His teeth nipped at the fullness of her lower lip until finally his tongue plunging inside to tangle with hers. She melted against him, sinking into the kiss, even as her fingers found the metal fastener on his jeans.

He pulled away ever so-slightly and looked down, seeing the straining of his cock against the denim material of his pants. He couldn't feel it. If there was any such thing as an out of body experience, this was it.

But then she pushed the material down his hips and dipped her hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.

He felt everything.

The tiny hands and their ardor. Pressure. Pleasure. Sensation. Friction. Sweet, sweet torment. "Yes." The words escaped from his lips without thought, without effort.

He protested slightly when she pulled away, until he felt her hands pull the cotton material down his legs, freeing him.

He needed to bury himself in her, thought he might die from the need even as he gently steered her toward the large bed, finally settling on scooping her up in his arms. He hovered over her, once he placed her on the mattress, before finally lowering himself to be cradled between her slender thighs.

"I want you, Nathan."

He gritted his teeth as he felt her arch against him. "I haven't done this in awhile. I…I don't know if I'm going to be able to…keep it together."

Her fingertips lightly trailed down his back. "Let yourself go. No worries. I'm thinking marathon, not one lap around the track."

"I should get protection." Would he even be able to feel her with that thin layer of latex? He wasn't sure, but he respected her too much to take chances—though a child with her would certainly be welcome someday.

"You don't have to." She pressed kisses against his neck.

"I…are you sure?"

"I want you to feel everything."

She bucked her hips, reveling in the feel of him while he ground against her wet heat. With one hand, she reached between them, placing his tip at her opening and once again lifting her hips. Nathan hissed, as he slid into her tightness. Stunned, he stilled himself, as awareness cascaded through his body. He took a deep breath as he acclimated to the clench of her muscles around his shaft and the sheer intensity of the feelings coursing through him.

There could never be anyone else but her. Under him. Around him. She consumed him.

And thought gave way to instinct as he sought to fill her, feel her, over and over. Nathan's palms founds hers, stretching their arms over their heads, all the while their bodies moved together in a timeless dance. Their gazes locked. And then they were climbing. Reaching. Reached! Falling. Deliciously spent.

And everything else—all doubt, all fear—was lost to the beauty of the moment.

Sister Agatha considered her cup of tepid tea. The drink was more a drink of habit than enjoyment. As a young girl in Connecticut, her mother—eccentric by most standards—swore by the liquid. Of course, her mother's habit was to read the leaves left in the bottom of the cup for hints of what was to come. Agatha had no such belief in the supernatural, other than, of course, divine miracles. At least, that had been her stance until twenty-seven years ago when she found that the world was full of the unexplainable. "I never expected that she would come back," she told Sister Frances.

"I did as was required."

Agatha nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you did, Sister Frances. The plan was put in place for just such an occasion. Did she come alone?"

"No. She brought a man with her. Mid-thirties, I would say, and smitten with her. Mr. Wuornos was his name."

"Wuornos?" The cup slipped from Sister Agatha's hand and crashed to the floor sending shards in all directions.