“Yep, I did.” We walked a little farther in silence. I tried to figure out how I felt about Gideon wanting to have a more tangible tie between us. I also wondered why he’d choose joint property ownership as the way to achieve it. “So I take it you like it here, too?”
“I like the beach.” He brushed his hair back from his face. “There’s a picture of me and my father building a sand castle on a beach.”
It was a miracle my steps didn’t falter. Gideon volunteered so little information about his past that when he did, it was nearly an earthshaking event. “I’d like to see it.”
“My mother has it.” We took a few more steps before he said, “I’ll get it for you.”
“I’ll go with you.” He hadn’t told me why yet, but he’d told me once that the Vidal home was a nightmare for him. I suspected that whatever was at the root of his parasomnia had taken place there.
Gideon’s chest expanded on a deep breath. “I can have it couriered.”
“All right.” I turned my head to kiss his bruised knuckles where they rested on my shoulder. “But my offer stands.”
“What did you think of my mother?” he asked suddenly.
“She’s very beautiful. Very elegant. She seemed gracious.” I studied him, seeing Elizabeth Vidal’s inky black hair and stunning blue eyes. “She also seems to love you a lot. It was in her eyes when she looked at you.”
He kept looking straight ahead. “She didn’t love me enough.”
My breath left me in a rush. Because I didn’t know what had given him such tormenting nightmares, I’d wondered if maybe she’d loved him too much. It was a relief to know that wasn’t the case. It was awful enough that his father committed suicide. To be betrayed by his mother, too, might be more than he could ever recover from.
“How much is enough, Gideon?”
His jaw tightened. His chest expanded on a deep breath. “She didn’t believe me.”
I came to a dead stop and pivoted to face him. “You told her what happened to you? You told her and she didn’t believe you?”
His gaze was trained over my head. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s long done.”
“Bullshit. It matters. It matters a lot.” I was furious for him. Furious that a mother hadn’t done her job and stood by her child. Furious that the child had been Gideon. “I bet it hurts like fucking hell, too.”
His gaze lowered to my face. “Look at you, so pissed off and upset. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You should’ve said something earlier.”
The tension in his shoulders eased and his mouth curved ruefully. “I haven’t told you anything.”
“Gideon—”
“And of course you believe me, angel. You’ve had to sleep in a bed with me.”
I grabbed his face in my hands and stared hard up into his eyes. “I. Believe. You.”
His face contorted with pain for a split second before he picked me up in a bear hug. “Eva.”
I slung my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I believe you.”
*
When we got back to the house, Gideon went into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and I perused the bookshelves in the living room, smiling when I came across the first book in the series I’d told him about, the one where’d I’d picked up his nickname, ace.
We sprawled on the couch and I read to him while he played absently with my hair. He was in a pensive mood after our walk, his mind seemingly far from me. I didn’t resent that. We’d given each other a lot to think about over the last couple of days.
When the tide came in, it did indeed rush up under the house, which sounded amazing and looked even more so. We stepped out onto the deck and watched it ebb and flow, turning the house into an island in the surf.
“Let’s make s’mores,” I said, while leaning over the railing with Gideon wrapped around my back. “On that portable patio fireplace.”
His teeth caught my earlobe and he whispered, “I want to lick melted chocolate off your body.”
Yes, please . . . I teased him, “Wouldn’t that burn?”