Free The Edge of Night by Jill Sorenson Page A

her headband and walked out.
    Eric was standing by the table, drinking bottled water. She watched his smooth brown throat work as he swallowed.
    “Um … where can I put my stuff?”
    Glancing at her canvas messenger bag, he opened a lower cabinet. “Here.”
    She tossed her bag inside, among others. “Thanks.”
    He nodded politely, but his demeanor seemed guarded. Maybe Jack’s comment about hygiene had embarrassed him.
    “El gusto es mío,” she said on impulse.
    Laughing softly, he shook his head. “That phrase isn’t really appropriate for this situation, but okay.”
    “I guess I need more practice.”
    His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment, and she got the impression that he wanted to offer his assistance.
    “Well, um, see you later,” she said, beating a hasty retreat.
    “Later,” he agreed.
    The next few hours passed in a rush. Jack hadn’t lied about being shorthanded, and his hands-off managerial style was inefficient. Some employees were more helpful than others. Meghan bagged double the amount of groceries as did Cristina, for example.
    Before she knew it, darkness had fallen, and it was closing time.
    “Come back tomorrow afternoon,” Jack said.
    When Meghan left the building, Eric was already outside, unlocking his bike. It was a dark, hot night. “Do you live far?” he asked, reading the trepidation on her face.
    “A few miles. Imperial Beach.”
    He nodded. “I can ride with you.”
    “Where do you live?”
    “Castle Park.”
    That neighborhood was in the opposite direction, which made his offer twice as sweet. “Is—is it safe around here this late?”
    “Not always. Not for a girl alone.”
    “I’ll be okay as long as I stay on my bike,” she asserted.
    “You have a cell phone?”
    She shook her head. In a fit of pique, her mother had demanded that Meghan return it before she left home.
    “Hold on a minute,” he said, rummaging through his backpack. He found a metal whistle on a white string. “Try that.”
    Pursing her lips, she brought it to her mouth and blew. The sound it made was loud and shrill, piercing the night air. They both laughed in surprise.
    “That’ll attract attention,” he said.
    She looped the whistle around her neck. “I’ll give it back tomorrow.”
    “Don’t worry about it. My niece gave it to me. She thinks I like toys.”
    Meghan smiled. “Then it’s extra-special.”
    They stared at each other for another moment. She wished she’d agreed to let him take her home. Flustered, she bent to unlock her bike from the rack. When they parted ways on the main drag, she felt a strange pull, as if an invisible thread connected them.
    Touching the metal at her neck, still cool against her skin, she pedaled home.

6
    April sprang awake at seven the next morning, her heart pounding.
    She’d had a nightmare that Josefa took Jenny to the beach on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle. April was chasing after them in her car. She thought she could hear Jenny screaming, but she couldn’t get the windows rolled down. Her front windshield was dusty and the sun was too bright, obstructing her vision.
    Traffic stopped suddenly. In a squeal of tires, she rear-ended another vehicle.
    Shaking off the bad dream, she sat up, pushing the hair out of her eyes. Jenny was a soft, warm weight beside her. As usual, she’d drifted toward April in the middle of the night. Now her small body was on April’s side of the queen-sized bed, leaving the other half empty.
    April slid off the edge with a groan. Although she paid every penny of rent, she shared a room with Jenny. Until recently, she’d been satisfied with the arrangement. Jenny had never liked her crib, not even as a newborn, so April had brought the baby into her bed, where they were both comfortable. She’d been a nervous young mother, and keeping Jenny close felt reassuring. Being together at night had worked for them.
    Over time, April began to wish for more personal space. Jenny didn’t need to be