A/N: Well, first off, I must apologize for the lack of an update to this story. My intention was to have it posted by Christmas, but I was whisked away on an unexpected out-of-state trip-no computer. So even though this story isn't exactly timely anymore, I hope that you all will still read and enjoy it. And yes, it's still fluff. Fluff galore with a smidge of substance. ;)

Of course, I think we all know that I do not own Haven, its characters, etc. This little fluffy foray into Nathan and Audrey's world is solely for fun and no infringement is intended.

Reviews, as always, are cherished.

Part Two

Two days later, Audrey was decked out in newly purchased winter-weather gear, thanks to Nathan who, despite grousing about how he did not like shopping, turned out to be quite the expert and helped her pick out her best options. Leaving the store with her new parka and gloves on and heading down the recently shoveled sidewalk at Nathan's side, Audrey had a new appreciation for how lovely Haven was. A fresh snow was falling from the night sky, and many of the stores were decorated with Christmas displays, the combination of the lights and snow creating a winter wonderland.

She liked Christmas, in theory. In practice, it had been one disappointment after another. Growing up as she did, she prayed for a Christmas miracle. A home. A family. A Hello Kitty stationery set and bag. It never really worked out for her.

Though, she acknowledged, this might be the first Christmas she would spend with someone. She and Nathan hadn't really talked about it. For that matter, there were a lot of things they hadn't really talked about though they chatted on about unimportant things—the Christmas pageant at the Methodist church, the Santa pancakes at Lorraine's Diner, whether Duke would be reopening the Gull anytime soon after the series of kitchen fires. Spending Christmas together, it would be the friendly thing to do. Nathan's family was non-existent. Her family was non-existent. Why not enjoy each other's company?

Relationships of any kind had never come easily to Audrey. It was just so much easier not to count on someone. But at some point, she'd come to count on Nathan. It began as professional respect. His keen mind, his eye for detail, his fearlessness—these were all things she admired. Plus, she could depend on him for a ride, a few laughs, and a different perspective. And when she thought her whole world was crashing around her, when she questioned her own existence, Nathan was the one who snapped her out of self-pity mode, the one who challenged her to dig deeper.

But were they more than friends? Or was she just mistaking familiarity and comfort with something more?

She wasn't good at this type of thing. And it wasn't like she had someone to talk to about it, even if she could force herself to have a heart-to-heart, not when the one person she normally would talk to was at the center of all the uncertainty she felt. Wouldn't that just make things weirder?

And what was she supposed to say? "So, um, Nathan, I used extra moisturizer this morning. Want to come feel my skin?"

Even thinking it sarcastically, she felt utterly ridiculous. This was her friend. Her friend. You don't screw with friendship, literally or figuratively. Besides, Nathan had never given any indication he was interested. And for a guy who couldn't feel anything but her, if he was interested, wouldn't that give him extra incentive to…

Audrey pushed aside the thoughts. She was grateful for their friendship, and that was enough. Why muddy the waters?

"You're quiet all of a sudden," Nathan observed, slowing his gait as they neared the small lot where he had parked the Bronco off of Main Street.

"Just thinking." Audrey slowed her steps to match his.

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

"As long as it doesn't end up with me in the emergency room again."

"And let you get out of playing Santa? Not a chance. Besides, the last time you ended up in the ER, it was not my fault."

"Here we go," Nathan grumbled. A few weeks prior, they had been tracking a man they suspected of turning his family into living ice sculptures. The man had been holed up in an abandoned warehouse near the wharf, and while the task of retrieving him from the warehouse held an element of danger, it reminded Nathan of good, old-fashioned footwork, just like it was any ordinary case, minus the weird icing people aspect. Unfortunately, the suspect wasn't in the mood for a conversation, and he took off running. Nathan and Audrey gave chase, and eventually got their guy, though not without a few mishaps along the way. "It was just a fire escape."

"Yeah, from, like twenty feet up. You're not Spider Man, you know."

Nathan wrinkled his nose. "Good thing. Don't really care for spiders."

Audrey shook her head. "You could've gotten killed."

"Closer to ten feet and no harm done. Other than the stitches."

"Yeah, well, I was pretty close to killing you myself," Audrey responded wryly. "Just because you can't feel pain, that doesn't mean you're indestructible."

"You worry about me?"

Audrey thought she detected a hint of pleasure in his voice, which for Nathan who typically sounded indifferent, his version of sounding pleased was just slightly north of nonchalant. However, the amusement she saw in his eyes verified what her ears told her. "Don't look so smug. I worry about a lot of things: Are we ever going to figure out the cause of the Troubles? Does the murder of the Colorado Kid have anything to do with what's going on now? Is Nathan going to get himself killed being a hero? Did I leave the iron on?"

"You have an iron?"

Audrey groaned as she reached for the door handle of the Bronco, opened it, and hoisted herself in. Nathan walked around to the driver's side.

As Nathan entered the vehicle, Audrey asked, "You don't have a death wish, do you? 'Cause I knew this agent once who…"

"Nope. No death wishes. Not going to be in the Darwin Awards. You're going to be stuck with me for a long time."

"That would be okay with me," Audrey replied, mirroring Nathan's nonchalance. But inside, she felt anything but nonchalant. "So, speaking of being stuck with you, I got roped into helping with Christmas Eve at the hospital."

An actual chuckle escaped from him. "To think you gave me hell for not being able to tell Laverne no."

"Yeah, about that, I'm starting to think there's something strange about her. She has this way of making people do things they don't want to do. I'm kind of thinking compulsion."

"You think she's Troubled?" Nathan asked incredulously. "Laverne Mitchell?"

"Look, we've seen plenty of ordinary people who can do some pretty out-there things. Who's to say Laverne isn't one of them?"

"It's called guilt. She used guilt on us. In particular, mom guilt. It's aggravating as hell that it worked, and Laverne…she might be trouble…but I don't think she's Troubled."

Audrey grimaced. "At this point, I'd halfway feel better if she was. Laverne is dangerous."

To that, Nathan threw Audrey a lop-sided smile. "So are you going to be my elf?"

"And wear those pointy ears and green tights?" Audrey laughed. "No way. Even Laverne's power of persuasion has limitations."

"Too bad. I was looking forward to seeing you with pointy ears and green tights."

"Dream on, Wuornos. Looks like you're the only one who'll be in costume. Scratchy beard. Pot belly." Audrey tried to envision Nathan—trim, clean-shaven, handsome Nathan—as Santa Claus and failed miserably, which surprised her because she had always thought she had a vivid imagination. "You know, you never did tell me how you got roped into it."

"My dad used to go to the children's ward dressed up as Santa every year. Pass out presents."

Audrey's eyebrows rose.

"I know. Hard to believe, right? Garland Wuornos, gruff old bastard, but he was so good with those kids. Made them forget their illnesses."

"He was a softie."

"Could be. Though never with me." Nathan fell quiet as he inserted the key into the ignition of the truck. The engine roared to life, and Nathan checked his mirrors as he backed out of the parking spot.

From the light of the instrument panel, Audrey studied Nathan's expression. It was guarded, she noticed. Typical of Nathan as he spoke of his father. Things hadn't been good between the two men for years, and now any chance of repairing that relationship was gone.

Wanting to lighten the mood, Audrey commented, "You never did ask me what I'm going to be doing."

"What are you going to be doing?" Nathan asked dutifully, pulling the truck onto the Main Street and driving past the path they'd taken by foot.

"Reading the Christmas story to the kids. The real one, not the one with Ralphie and the leg lamp and the tongue frozen to the post…"

"Those triple dog dares can be tough to resist."

"Tell me about it." She paused. "At the orphanage, Christmas was never about presents or Santa with the nuns. Believe me, there were times when I wish it had been. But we always gathered every year and heard the miraculous story of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus being born in a manger. And—I know this is going to sound cheesy—but in those moments, I didn't feel alone anymore." She looked out the window, watching the houses decorated with Christmas lights.

"Audrey?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not alo-"

A chirp, followed by the crackling of the walkie-talkie in the Bronco intruded on the moment. "Nathan, hon?"

Nathan reached out, grabbed the hand piece, and answered, "I'm here, Laverne."

"Audrey there with you?"

"Yep."

"Mrs. Nelson called the station again. Wants Audrey to come out. Says her neighbor is terrorizing her."

"Oh fun," Audrey replied, an involuntary shudder passing through her as she remembered the last time she was at Mrs. Nelson's house and stood in the cold for two hours. And all for what? So the old woman could complain that her neighbor was Santa Claus and planning to climb down her chimney?

"We'll stop by and see her. Get her calmed down," Nathan replied into the walkie. He returned the device to its cradle and turned the truck onto a side street, heading toward Mrs. Nelson's house. "She must like you," Nathan commented to Audrey.

"Can't imagine why." Audrey settled back into the bench seat. "I literally argued with her the whole time I was there. Politely, of course," she added.

"Oh, of course," Nathan replied sardonically.

"I don't bulldoze over everyone," Audrey defended, though she knew that sometimes her manner was brusque compared to some in Haven. Adjusting herself to life as a small town cop had definitely not been without its challenges. Even understanding how everything worked posed its difficulties. In a big city—and certainly in the Bureau—detectives would not be checking out a nuisance call. But Haven didn't exactly operate like other places, even when problems weren't Troubles-related.

A few minutes later, the two partners were pulling into Mrs. Nelson's driveway. Mrs. Nelson had evidently been watching for them to arrive, as the curtain that covered the inside of the front door was pulled to one side and then dropped back into place as they got out of the blue truck.

Mrs. Nelson—a diminutive woman in her late-seventies—opened the front door and invited them in from the cold. Audrey shot Nathan a look as if to say, 'Are you serious?'

After spending hours in the cold a few days ago, Audrey wasn't expecting such an invitation.

The partners walked into the cozy old house and found themselves in the living room, which boasted a large wood-burning fireplace. Audrey could immediately feel the heat from the fire on her cool cheeks and began to shed the extra layers of clothes—her gloves, her hat, her coat. Nathan couldn't feel the heat, but from Audrey's reaction knew that it was the appropriate thing to do, and followed suit.

"It was so good of you to come on such short notice!" Mrs. Nelson chirped happily, sounding as though the visit was social in nature. "Would you care for some cookies and hot cocoa?"

Audrey responded, "Mrs. Nelson, we're here because you called the police station with a complaint about your neighbor…"

Mrs. Nelson's posture stooped with disappointment. "But surely you can…"

"We'd love some cookies and cocoa, Mrs. Nelson," Nathan interjected.

Mrs. Nelson's expression brightened. "You always were such a good boy, Nathan. I'll just mosey over to the kitchen and be right back."

Audrey sat on the floral-patterned sofa. "Guess you're a softie, too."

Nathan shrugged. "Or else I just really like cookies and cocoa."

But Audrey knew differently. Maybe that was why she and Nathan worked well together. For a man who couldn't feel, he sure had empathy for others that in her abruptness, she sometimes lacked.

"Here we are," Mrs. Nelson announced as she came into the living room carrying a tray with mugs of cocoa, a small kettle, and a plate of cookies. "Sit, sit," she told Nathan as she set the tray on a coffee table in front of the sofa. Settling onto a chair perpendicular to the sofa, she poured the thick, sweet liquid and handed a mug to each of them.

Audrey sipped hers. "Warm," she said. "And good."

"Oh, I know better than to make it hot. Wouldn't want to burn you." Mrs. Nelson looked meaningfully at Nathan.

"This was kind of you, Mrs. Nelson," Nathan replied after taking a sip from his cup.

"Well, it is the holidays. I always try to keep goodies in the house around this time of year. Never know when you're going to have company," the older lady prattled.

"Speaking of company," Audrey pressed the woman for information, "our dispatcher said you were concerned about a neighbor…?"

But Mrs. Nelson ignored Audrey's question, studying the younger woman instead, her eyes sweeping over her. "My eyesight isn't quite what it used to be, but there is something about you. My dear, you do remind me of someone I used to know."

Audrey's found herself leaning forward slightly on the sofa upon hearing this, her line of questioning about the offending neighbor temporarily forgotten. "Lucy Ripley?"

Mrs. Nelson considered Audrey's question. "No, that wasn't it. I don't think. Her name was Millie. Millie….? Oh, the last name escapes me." She chuckled softly. "My Ben fancied her, I think. Before we were married." Mrs. Nelson paused, lost in memory.

Audrey and Nathan's eyes met, and wordlessly, they seemed to be having the same thoughts. Could this be a clue to her past? Or was this just the musings of an old woman?

"You'd think I would remember more. Funny thing about getting old. But it was so long ago." She stood and walked to the mantle of the fireplace, picking up a wedding photo. "We were married in 1949, if you can believe it. Married for more than fifty-five years before his passing."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Nelson," Audrey murmured.

"To every season, there is a time. I used to say that all the time, and Ben would always add, 'And it's time for baseball season.'"

"Mrs. Nelson's husband used to coach little league," Nathan explained to Audrey.

"Yes, and you were a good little player. You and that Crocker boy both," the older lady recalled picking up the plate of sugar cookies and offering some to the detectives. Nathan took a cookie from the plate, as did Audrey. "I imagine that this hasn't been an easy holiday season for you, Nathan. I'm sorry I didn't make it out to the services for your father. My condolences for your loss."

"Thank you." Nathan's perfunctory response had been honed by months of similar conversations following his father's unexpected death.

"It's never easy to say goodbye to the ones we love. With Ben, I thought we had all the time in the world. He was my best friend, you know, but then one day…" her voice trailed off. "Oh dear me. I'm being a real Debbie Downer! I didn't call you over here to stroll down my memory lane."

Audrey looked to Nathan before continuing, "Perhaps you'd like to tell us what happened with your neighbor."

"Ah, yes. The man is Santa Claus, I tell you." With a little nod to her head, she added, "And he is stalking me."

Audrey fought back a sigh. "Mrs. Nelson, we've already been through this. Santa Claus is a fictional character, based on numerous historical figures and popularized by Coca-Cola to sell soft drinks."

"I saw him, Officer Parker. With my own eyes. He walked around my yard, scoping out my house. He was checking the chimneys, I swear it."

"Mrs. Nelson, we will be happy to speak with him. What alias is he using?" Nathan responded. Audrey looked at him skeptically, but Nathan ignored her.

"He goes by Harry. Harry Nicholson. But I'm onto him." The older woman tapped her temple. "I know who he is really is."

A few minutes later, Nathan and Audrey were leaving Mrs. Nelson's house.

"What do you make of all that?" Nathan asked.

"Where to begin?" Audrey replied. "One minute, she sounded coherent, and the next…"

"Agreed. I think she's lonely."

Audrey nodded. "And loopy."

"Yep." Nathan shoved his hands into the pocket of his coat and walked to the end of the driveway, hitting the sidewalk to head next door to Harry Nicholson's house.

Audrey followed. "I just wonder how seriously we can take any of what she said."

"You're thinking about Millie."

"She did say the woman looked like me. We know Lucy and I—"

"But she also said her eyesight wasn't as good as it used to be."

"True. But it's worth looking into. And something I don't get is what exactly she has against Santa Claus. I mean, we both know her neighbor isn't Santa, but if he were, what's the worst he would do? Leave her a fruitcake or something?"

"They are pretty bad. Would be the equivalent of coal in a stocking," Nathan replied with a half smile as they walked up the steps to the Nicholson house. After ringing the doorbell, the two waited for its occupant to open the door.

Audrey was thrown for a loop when she saw Harry Nicholson. She had thought Mrs. Nelson's imagination was in overdrive, but Mr. Nicholson was the spitting image of a modern Santa Claus with a variation or two. He wore a red cardigan sweater trimmed with white. His rotund belly, rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and brilliant white beard completed his look.

With a bright smile, he greeted Audrey and Nathan. "Merrrrrry Christmas! What can I do for you tonight?" He sounded so jovial, Audrey thought the only thing missing was a Ho! Ho! Ho! And then she wondered if she had stepped into a freaking twilight zone.

"I'm Detective Wuornos. This is Detective Parker. We're following up on a report that you were trespassing on Nelda Nelson's property."

The man's eyes widened as he rubbed his beard. "Oh me."

"I still don't believe it," Audrey said with a sigh as the two rode back to the bed and breakfast for Nathan to drop her off. "I just think we would've seen it."

"Obviously we didn't," Nathan replied gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

"I don't miss things like a large box with a puppy inside. I like puppies. I don't ignore them. And judging from your reaction to all things cute and cuddly, I don't think you do, either. So could you please explain what happened?"

"Obviously, Mr. Nicholson is the real Santa Claus."

"Haha. Very funny."

"Don't you mean hoho?" Nathan deadpanned.

Audrey groaned. "Promise me something, Nathan."

"I would say anything, but there are some limitations."

"No more cheesy humor. It just seems wrong coming from you somehow."

Audrey should not have been surprised that Haven had turned up yet another mystery. What began as a routine drop in at Mr. Nicholson's house to ask him to refrain from frightening Mrs. Nelson had turned into a full-blown 'what-in-the-hell-just-happened' moment.

The man had been extremely apologetic for frightening his neighbor and admitted to trespassing on her property. He did so for the right reasons, he claimed. Knowing that she was widowed and alone for Christmas, he wanted to leave a present that would brighten her holiday season. So he had left a puppy on her front porch in a box, rang the doorbell, and hurried away.

When Nathan responded that they had not seen any sign of the present either inside or outside of the house, Mr. Nicholson had been adamant that Audrey check again. And sure enough, when she walked back to Mrs. Nelson's house, a box with a squirming little puppy was situated on the front porch. The puppy was burrowing itself deeper into the fleece blankets in the box, and Audrey simultaneously felt her heart melt over the absolute cuteness of the little critter and quicken over the fact that something very bizarre was going on.

After giving the puppy to Mrs. Nelson and returning to Mr. Nicholson's house, the weirdness factor was reinforced by the look Nathan had on his face. To Audrey, he looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"No humor guarantees," Nathan replied pulling up in the parking area outside the bed and breakfast where Audrey continued to rent a room.

"I want to know what Mr. Nicholson said when I walked back over to Mrs. Nelson's house."

"I'll bet you do." And from the tone of his voice, Audrey could tell he was enjoying knowing something that she didn't.

"Oh, no, no. You don't get to hold out on me, Nathan."

But Nathan wouldn't say anything about his conversation with Mr. Nicholson, raising his eyebrows instead before quickly lowering them. "Need help carrying in?"

"You jerk," Audrey replied with a smile.

"That's the thanks I get." Nathan opened the door of the truck, slid out, and reached behind the seats for Audrey's bags.

Audrey groaned loudly and exited the truck. Closing the short distance between the truck and her rented room, she unlocked the door to her room. She flipped on the lights, and Nathan followed behind her carrying packages from the shopping they had done earlier in the day.

"Where do you want these?" he asked as she peeled off her extra layers of winter clothing.

"In the corner with the others," she replied pointing to the far corner of the room. Nathan started to walk across the room, but the sudden realization that she was sending him over to his bagged—but unwrapped—Christmas presents had Audrey squealing, "Oh crap! Stop!" and tugging at his arm.

Audrey's uncharacteristically spastic reaction had Nathan full-out smiling. "What now?"

"Turn around, or close your eyes or something."

"What am I not supposed to see?" Nathan asked turning around, bags still in hand. His gaze went down to the hand she still had clenched onto his arm, and Audrey thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite interpret.

"Sorry." She released her grip on him and suddenly became aware of just how close they were standing to one another. Audrey's mouth felt dry as she found herself staring at the piercing blueness of his eyes, the straight line of his nose, the tiny scar near his hairline (what happened and why had she never noticed it before?), his cleft chin, the curve of his lips.

She took a step back, steadying herself internally. What was wrong with her? Ogling Nathan of all people? Yes, he was handsome. Any woman could see that. But just because he was attractive—okay, hot—didn't mean that she should turn to a pile of fangirl mush. Besides, attraction was fleeting, though she did have to admit that it would be easier on her at that moment if Nathan did resemble, say, Santa Claus.

"Stay. And don't turn around."

She grabbed a blanket off her bed and scampered to the corner of the room with the presents, draping the cover over the bags. Satisfied that he wasn't going to be able to discern the contents, she announced, "Okay, it's safe."

Nathan turned around. "From the looks of that pile, I'm guessing you weren't covering lingerie." He brought the packages closer to her and handed them over as she positioned them on the floor. "So what do you have?"

Remembering his refusal to tell her what Mr. Nicholson said in her absence, Audrey reveled in a refusal of her own. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

"Presents for me?"

"A few, but not just you. Contrary to what everyone seems to think, I do have other friends besides you."

"How about a sneak peek?" With a look of mischief, he advanced as though to uncover the hidden packages.

She pressed her hands against his chest, stopping him. "How about you wait until Christmas like a good Nathan?"

She waited for his retort, but none came. All the playfulness she had seen in him a moment ago was gone, replaced by solemnity. His jaw clenched slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut a moment before opening them again. "Audrey…" His voice came out gravelly.

Audrey's own smile fell. What had just happened? "If you want to see your presents that badly…," she joked weakly. "Nathan, what is it?"

Nathan said nothing, instead looking down at her hands. Realizing she was again touching him, she jerked them away, as though she had come in contact with fire.

What was she thinking? She normally wasn't touchy-feely, which worked out great because Nathan didn't exactly send personalized invitations for people to touch him. So why did she feel the absence of his warmth against her hands so acutely? And was she really so oblivious to his discomfort at her touches that she prolonged the contact? Great. Just great.

Swallowing hard, Audrey crossed her arms. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

He shook his head, his words sounding bitter as he spoke. "Don't. Please don't apologize for touching me."

Audrey felt panic rise within her, a panic reminiscent of how she felt after Nathan blamed her for not helping the Chief keep it together. He had pushed her away then, but now he wasn't just pushing her away. He was pulling away, erecting a wall between them with his movements, his very pained expression. She tried to mask the near desperation she felt, but figured she must have been doing a shoddy job at it. "I kind of need to."

"No. You don't," he asserted. "You didn't do anything wrong, Audrey. I just—." He clenched his fists, still carrying the ghosts of her contact. "Sometimes when you touch me, I feel like I'm riding this wave of sensations, and everything is heightened. It's overwhelming. In a good way. And it scares the hell out of me."

Audrey had to force herself from going agape. It was bad enough that she hadn't realized for several weeks that Nathan could feel her, but how could she go months and not realize that when she touched him—even unintentionally—it had a profound effect on him? In the absence of stimuli, when a stimulant is introduced, of course it intensifies. "Why haven't you said anything?"

Nathan cleared his throat. "This isn't really a conversation I ever planned on us having. I never wanted to put you in a position where you would feel obligated to…or think that I expected you to…" his voice trailed off. "Dammit."

"Wow." Months ago, they had joked around about becoming friends with benefits. Nothing had ever come from it, though Audrey did have an erotic dream or two about the possibility. But to know now that she wasn't alone in her attraction, that Nathan had thought about it, too, was a heady realization.

"I should go."

"No, you shouldn't." Hesitantly, she reached out and took his hand in hers, lightly caressing his long, slender fingers. "Earlier tonight, I think you were trying to tell me that I'm not alone."

He nodded slightly.

"But here's the thing. Neither are you." With her other hand, she touched his cheek, feeling the subtle hint of stubble and the warmth of him. He leaned into her touch, a sigh escaping from his lips.

Tears stung her eyes. Strange. She wasn't a crier in general, but suddenly she had the urge to do so. This man—this beautiful person inside and out—had been cut off from everyone and everything. Not able to feel his own skin, not able to feel others around him. He'd been ostracized at times, scrutinized always, and in a self-imposed exile.

And he'd tried to keep it all under wraps. She'd had no idea—no idea at all—how difficult it had been for him to be near her. He'd kept his distance, not because he'd wanted to, but because he valued her. Because he respected her. Because he didn't want to put her in a bad position. Because their friendship was worth more to him than physical pleasure. Life didn't come with guarantees. She knew that more than anyone, but some things were worth taking a chance on. Nathan was worth it.

Emboldened by her realization, she traced his jaw line with her lips as she ran her fingers along the nape of his neck, reaching up and lightly scratching his neck at the hairline.

His eyes fluttered at her touch. "Audrey…" He freed his hand from hers and pulled her against him, both hands on the curve of her hips, their bodies pressed tightly together.

She gasped slightly, reveling in the feel of his lean, muscled body against hers. He wanted her; she could feel the evidence. A part of her wanted to speed things along, to drag him to the bed that was only a few feet away. But they would do this at his pace, however quickly or slowly that may be.

Tentatively, shyly, his hands found their way to the hem of her shirt, tugging gently upward until he could run them under the fabric and feel her bare flesh. With his fingertips, he traced the small of her back, sending shivers of delight through her body.

"You're not alone, Nathan," she repeated, murmuring against the crook of his neck. She lifted her chin, looking up at him, seeking his eyes, gently pleading, "Stay with me."

To be continued in part three…