What the Heart Takes (2 page)

CHAPTER 1

Heaven released a sigh as her eyes fluttered shut, blocking out the perfect blue sky. She wiggled her toes back and forth, enjoying the way the heat of the sun warmed her skin. If it weren’t for the shade of the nearby palm tree, her entire body would be nice and toasty, probably a little more than she’d like.

Pressing her back into the cushioned bench, she pushed away the negative energy begging to take her under. There would be plenty of time to deal with all of that when they returned home.

If they returned home…

No. Dylan promised they would. He wanted her to deliver in The States as much as she did. Not that there wasn’t good medical care on the island. The doctor in Montego treated her like family. He’d even calmed Dylan a few times, especially after her first Braxton Hicks contraction.

But she wanted her parents to be at the hospital, just as much as she wanted Delia with them. Maybe even Hope, too.

A dull swooshing lingered in the distance each time a wave crashed ashore. The growing tide brought with it a gentle breeze that blew her curls about her face. The coconut-scented strands tickled her cheek until she couldn’t fight back a smile.

When Dylan’s chuckle filled her ears, her lips curled even further. Concentrating on anything but the warmth of his hand proved a challenge. Each sweep across her stomach sent a spark through every nerve in her body.

But another trail of his fingers had her wincing, mainly because of the thump beneath her navel. The little bubbles that fluttered there a couple months ago gave way to flips and rolls from the contortionist within.

She should have schooled her features a little better. Regretted not doing so when Dylan’s voice rang in her ears a second later. “Heaven?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered, meeting his eyes before they fell to her tiny, but well-rounded, belly.

“She’s at it again, isn’t she?”

Her heart took an extra beat with his words. She loved the gleam that came to his eyes when he talked about their child, loved the way his energy fluttered every time his big brown eyes made contact with her stomach.

“You’re so sure it’s a girl, aren’t you?”

Dylan’s mouth crooked before he brushed his lips against her belly. “Of course I am. I have my mother’s instincts, remember?”

“You won’t be disappointed when your son greets you instead?”

The deep chuckle escaping his lips played like music in her ears. She inhaled the sweet spice of his skin as he pressed his head to hers. “I wouldn’t be disappointed if we had a son. But I really believe you should be concentrating on girl names.”

Guess he was right, only because they’d already agreed on Jackson for a boy. But if Dylan’s intuition was as keen as his mother’s… Yeah, she really should think about girl names.

Giving him another smile, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as a new wave of energy swirled around her. The insistent tug drew her eyes across the edge of the sand where Layne stood. Though he didn’t face her, she could sense his determination. He gazed up at one of the torches lining the patio. A solid yellow flame danced in the breeze.

Layne continued studying it, most likely wondering about his own power over heat. Fire, particularly. Conquering the fire within him would be the biggest step in learning his abilities, especially after the mishap with the curtains. Neither he nor Dylan had explained how the curtains caught fire, only that Layne had been
practicing
too hard.

She didn’t believe that excuse for a second.

Something about him seemed different today. The way he raised his hand to his side, his eyes fixed on his palm. So much curiosity flowed through him. It made her anxious.

“What’s he doing?”

Dylan’s voice lingered in her ears. She didn’t meet his gaze but did squeeze his hand as she offered him a smile. “He’s questioning himself, and he’s struggling, but he
is
learning. He has a great gift. Figuring it out is a process. Time and patience are humbling to someone who’s used to getting everything he wants, when he wants it.”

“He didn’t get everything he wanted.”

She met Dylan’s eyes, noting the way they wavered between hers and her stomach. Would he ever come to terms with her connection to Layne?

“You don’t have to worry, Dylan.” She trailed her finger across his lips, smiling when his eyes fluttered closed. How comforting it was to know a single touch could soothe his soul just as much as it could hers. That alone should erase any of his doubts. “I am yours and you are mine. My breath is your breath. My heartbeat is your heartbeat. It will always be that way. But Layne needs us. We have to help him.”

“I know.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just pulsed the deepest and richest vibes of love toward her. Then he opened his eyes, shifting them in his best friend’s direction. Heaven did the same. They watched Layne as he tilted his head and stared at the torch again.

A second later, the flame rose an inch. It kept its new height for a few more seconds until Layne gazed down at his hand.

Heaven noticed the air shift. The warm breeze turned sultry. It even picked up a few notches. Then she sensed Layne’s energy gaining strength. A tinge of hope sprouted in her heart. Layne had it all. Determination. Dedication. Devotion. The three D’s needed for defense. It’s what her father said he’d have. Layne’s energy could no longer refute it.

The more she stared at him, the stronger a surge of heat prickled her cheeks, like she stood too close to a fire. And just as she sent an encouraging pulse to Layne, a tiny glow formed inside his hand. The glow grew brighter, then softer, as it changed from white to golden.

Layne cupped his hand, bringing it in for a closer look. A slight turn of his body revealed his face—one full of wonder. His energy beat with amazement, even a smidge of pride, something she hadn’t felt in him since he separated from Faith.

He moved his hand back to his waist, palm-side up. Heaven gasped when she saw the miniature flame inside.

“I’ll be damned,” Dylan mumbled beside her.

She gave him a smile, noticing the sadness in his eyes had receded. He returned her smile, leaning in closer. She barely had time to enjoy the warmth of his lips before her connection to Layne wavered.

Pulling away from Dylan, she found Layne again. With his shoulders slightly slumped, they rose an inch as he let out a sigh. The small flicker in his palm vanished, as did his sense of accomplishment. He stood silent, his hair brushing the back of his neck with each shake of his head. Then he began swinging his fist, punching the air in half circles.

“Ugh,” he grumbled. A few obscenities followed before his eyes met hers.

In less than a heartbeat, his body stiffened. He drew in a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair. The quake of his energy had her stomach knotting when she noticed his cheeks turning pink.

Poor guy. He’d given up his life to protect her, now his privacy, what little bit the press hadn’t taken from him. At least with the paparazzi, he could escape to his home—could curse, punch walls, drink until he passed out. Yet the moment he arrived in Jamaica and stepped inside the coastline cottage, that small sliver of solitude was stolen.

Embarrassment beat within his soul, but he didn’t turn away. He raised his hand, gave her a quick wave, and then grinned so big, his cheeks dimpled in perfection. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing so hot,” Dylan chuckled. “No pun intended.”

“That’s an understatement,” Layne grumbled. The breeze blew his bangs over his eyes, blocking the irritation they contained, but Heaven could sense it.

She bit the inside of her cheek in order not to laugh at their bantering. “Hey,” she whispered, jabbing Dylan in the side. “Be nice.”

The dumbfounded look on Layne’s face squeezed her heart. He was just like a puppy, off doing his own thing, playing, growing, and learning about the world. Then she caught his attention, and he wanted nothing more than hers, would beg for it if she didn’t speak to him.

She gazed at Dylan, who shook his head at his friend. “Guess you need to talk to him, huh?”

“I think so. You
know
, you could stay and help me.”

“Soon,” he whispered, gazing down at his hands as he rubbed them together. Regret pulsed within him, along with frustration.

After five months on the island, she thought he would be dealing with everything better. Granted, he had made improvements since they’d arrived in Jamaica. It took him a month before he could stay in the same room with Layne for more than five minutes. Another month passed before he’d leave them alone, and an additional month to explain why.

It’s not that I don’t trust you. I know you love me, that the kiss upset you, but I know his feelings are more complex. Partially because of what he is to you. Partially because he’s a man.

Remembering her husband’s words, she met his gaze, stroking the side of his face. He looked as though he wanted to say more. Probably would have if the phone hadn’t begun ringing. His eyes darted to the cottage door, then back to hers as they widened.

“We haven’t heard that sound in a while. I better go see who it is.” The heat of his body left hers when he stood. Walking off, he mumbled, “Maybe one of our parents found something.”

“Hurry back. I want to know what’s going on.”

He gave her a thumbs-up before taking off in a jog.

Finding Layne’s eyes again, she motioned for him to join her, not that she had to. He would have walked over a second later. Anticipation burned in his eyes and his soul.

“Have a seat.” She patted the cushion beside her, hoping he’d lower himself to the bench.

He didn’t acknowledge her at first, kept looking back toward Dylan, who’d just made his way through the door. “Wonder who’s on the phone.”

“I don’t know.” She gazed up at him, waiting for him to sit. “As long as they have good news, I don’t care who’s on the other end of that call.”

Taking a deep breath, she inhaled his citric, yet woody scent. Layne always smelled good, regardless of where they were. Even after a long day of practicing, including those days where he came into the cottage dripping with sweat.

An array of images played through her mind, causing her cheeks to heat. She pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the kink in her neck as she rubbed it. “I didn’t ask you over to chat about the call.”

He ignored the cushion she patted and found her eyes again. It didn’t take him long to kneel in front of her, or curl his fingers around her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Layne, but you aren’t.”

Guilt washed over his face. He couldn’t hold her gaze any longer and lowered his eyes instead. “I was hoping you wouldn’t sense that. Guess I should have known better.” Shifting his focus to the ocean, a long sigh slipped past his lips. “I’m worried, Heaven. I can’t get anything right with my abilities. I’m beginning to think Delia was wrong about me.”

“No, she’s not. Trust me. Your hand bears the same mark as Dylan’s and mine. Besides, I feel you. Your energy speaks to me.”

A half laugh passed between them. She sensed the ache in his energy, and his heart. Whatever emotional attachment bound them, it ran strong.

Her fingertips caressed his chin as she urged him to look at her. While he gave in and faced her, his eyes remained lowered. Then she stroked his cheek with her thumb, noting the line of fire coursing through his body. That same line reached out to her, circling her waist, pulsing stronger with each second.

“Layne,” she whispered. “You’re sad… Why?”

She finally gained his attention. The more his eyes burned into her, the hotter her skin grew.

“Because I’m failing you.” His voice, barely a whisper, shook with emotion. “If I don’t figure out my abilities, what good am I to you?”

“You protected me before, with your mind. Your abilities are just an enhancement of that. I trust you to keep me safe.”

“It won’t be enough next time. Your father said that we would encounter really powerful psychics. I have to learn how to protect you with every gift I have. Do you think Dylan’s the only one who would suffer if something happened to you?”

“Layne, I never said—”

The heat of his palms scorched her arms when he drew her closer. “I may not be bound to you like he is, but I
am
bound to you. I’m your Keeper, Heaven, and you’re my world. My life holds no purpose if you’re gone.”

“And that’s how I know you’ll figure this out. You’re devoted to Dylan and me. You won’t let us down.”

So much loyalty burned in his eyes, yet something burned brighter, something that scorched his soul every day. His
adoration
. She refused to call it anything else. Doing so wouldn’t help either of them, especially Layne. Not to mention it would embarrass him. She didn’t doubt for a second that he thought he hid his feelings well. He succeeded somewhat with Dylan, but not with her.

The fire in his eyes faded as they dropped back to the ground. She wished he would trust her, wished he would believe in himself as much as she did.

Dark blonde hair draped around his face when he shook his head. “Quit looking at me like I’m a hero, Heaven. I’m not. If you only knew the things I—”

“There is only one thing I need to know, Layne. That you’ll protect me when the time comes.” She pressed her hands to his face, forcing his head back until he met her eyes. Then she leaned in closer. “I don’t need to be convinced that you’ll succeed at keeping me safe.”

“You have too much faith in me. I’m going to let you down. It’s who I am—a failure.”

Cupping her hand, she placed it over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear those words pass over your lips again. Do you hear me? You’re not a failure. If you were, I’d either be dead or in the hands of whoever wants me dead. We both would be.”

His gaze lowered, along with her hand, to her stomach. The moment she touched it, he brought his hand forward, as though he wanted to join it with hers. But something in the distance gained his attention.

Dylan. He’d come rushing out of the cottage.