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woman who thought she was alone. Why not? she thought. Bogart would have. Tracy would have. She took the steps two at a time and ran into the house. She was suddenly cold.
    Joe hunkered against the chill night air. He watched her sprint into the house and then turned his gaze to the dark abyss of the sea. There was nothing out there…it was lifeless, it was empty, it was endless.
    He pitched the cigarette over the deck and into the darkness. Casting one more look toward her cottage, he whirled on his heel and walked back into his

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    Joey Light
    house. It was just as lonely, just as bleak in there. Joe walked to the refrigerator, through the darkness from memory, and took the bottle of Tanqueray Sterling from the freezer. He poured a shot, watched the frost form on the glass, knocked it back, and tossed the empty glass on the counter. It rolled, balanced, and then fell on the floor.
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    Chapter Three
    It was the middle of September and the war of hot and cold air produced some hellish thunderstorms. When Sterling woke to thunder and lightning, she dressed quickly and ran to the deck. The water was rolling and pitching and smashing on the beach, very close to her steps. She loved it.
    The heck with the sunrise. This was better. Much better. Feeling the chill in the air, Sterling turned back into the cottage to pull on a flannel shirt and jeans.
    Barefoot, she raced down the steps to stand dangerously close to the foaming sea. It was barely light, the time of day when morning and night battled for release. The icy spray of the water showered her. Lightning streaked across the sky, low and bright. A few seconds later the thunder rolled and cracked. The wind was fierce. Smiling, she stretched her arms up, turning her face to the oncoming storm.
    “That’s right. Stand out there like some damn lightning rod. Hope for a direct hit.” Joe shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
    Though his voice was buffeted around by the wind, she heard him and laughed. Turning to look at him, she shouted back, wondering why he would care, “Isn’t this wonderful?”
    She watched him stomp down the steps, a frown drawing his brows together. The instant he reached her, he jerked her by the arm and dragged her back up the stairs into his cottage. This woman was not only infuriating, she was addlepated.

    Joey Light
    “That’s really stupid. Only a fool would stand on the beach during a thunderstorm. You need someone to protect you from yourself. Watch the damn storm from in here. At least that way I’ll know you haven’t decided to take a boogie board out and ride the waves.” He flicked his cigarette hard enough to send it out the doors and over the deck.
    “I’ve only seen this once before.” She stood by the sliding-glass door and watched as she talked. “I was a child and I was with my parents. Farther south, though, I think. I’d forgotten how beautiful it could be. And frightening.”
    “If it’s frightening why were you standing out there, right on the edge of it?”
    He knew the answer.
    She turned a smile on him. “It’s scarier from that angle. You feel a part of it.
    There’s the slightest chance of being carried away forever. Did you know that if you sailed a straight line from here you would land in Portugal? I looked it up.”
    He stirred something on the stove. “No, and I don’t care.”
    Reluctantly, she moved away from the open door and into the kitchen area to see what he was doing. He was scrambling eggs, and badly. Peeking around from behind him, she asked, “What do you care about, Joe?”
    “Nothing.” Not anymore, he thought.
    “You have to add a little more milk and you should’ve put a little butter in the frying pan first.” She opened the refrigerator and, finding the milk, checked the date before gently nudging him aside and adding a little. Taking the fork from him she proceeded to fix the eggs. It was then that she heard the