Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

Adrian, and Adrian alone, had called me “Blue” when we were an “us.” His honesty held my heart captive and misted my eyes. Never, in the history of ever, had Adrian Turner been that vulnerable - let alone with an audience. He seemed to sense his slip; he bowed his head and jammed his hands into his pockets. The ocean quieted its white caps, and the stars hushed as the world awaited my response.

“Adrian, I’ve missed you too. I didn’t know I’d missed you until I saw you. I’m glad we reconnected, but you have to admit this is fucked up - even for us. You should have told me about what was going on, or at the very least encouraged Bo to tell me sooner than this. I know you’re bound by laws and oaths, and all of that, but you know me and I respect confidences.”

Blue? I’m expected to speak after that, and you can’t even look at me?

“I guess you’re right . . .” he trailed off, meeting my stare with his espresso eyes.

Bo sat back during my exchange with Adrian. There were years of history pulsing rapidly between Adrian and me. Bo seemed to be chewing the scene against the inside of his cheek. I was still feeling off-balance when I realized some of my earlier questions had gone unanswered. I buried “Blue” in the sand for the moment.

“What’s the blackmail about, Bo?” I asked bluntly.

“The past. It doesn’t even really have to do with me. It’s nothing I’ve done or said or anything like that; I’m just the one with the money.” He shrugged, trying for passive, settling for anxious.

“Do you know who is blackmailing you?”

“Yes.” Black passion leaked from his voice and beckoned a chill through my core.

“Who?”

“He can’t tell you that right now,” Adrian cut in quickly, before Bo had even opened his mouth to answer.

“OK. Well, are you in any physical danger?” I stood up and walked toward Bo, who seemed worn out by this confession.

“He’s not,” Adrian cut in again, but I noted that Bo hadn’t made any motion to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ “If he were,” Adrian continued, “this would be a much different situation and we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.” As Adrian finished, Bo looked up at me hopelessly.

This was a lot. We both came to the table with various pieces of emotional baggage, for sure. But, the fact that Bo’s involved blackmail, and Adrian, was a little too much for me to handle. I had to sort this out to the best of my ability. I was still madly in love with Bo, that much was certain, but there was still something lingering on his face that heightened my senses; never mind “Blue,” who was still buried in the sand.

Of course, neither one of them could be completely honest with me regarding this situation because of ethics and laws. Irony raised its mocking eyebrow at my previous anxiety regarding telling my boss about my relationship with Bo. Those ethics paled in comparison to this.

I needed to take a walk and consider if I could go forth with the business end of the trip to Concord knowing what I knew. Could I tell Monica? I couldn’t think about all of this with these two men sitting in front of me, watching me for a reaction. I stood up.

“I’ve got to take a walk. I’ll be back in a few.”

“I’ll come with you.” Bo stood and reached for my hand.

“Dude, let her go. She needs a minute,” Adrian replied self-righteously.

Bo turned to Adrian, “I think I’ve got this Turner, thanks.”

“No. Bo, Adrian’s right, I need a minute.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, wincing at the fact that ‘Adrian’s right’ even came out of my mouth. But, he was right.

Bo squeezed my hand back before dropping it.

“It’s ok, Bo, really. I just . . . need a minute.” I kissed him softly on the cheek.

As I headed off, Josh poked his head outside and said, “Bo, you’re up.” I looked back, gave him an encouraging wave, and watched him head inside before I turned back around.

*

A half hour later I was left with more questions than answers as I made my way back to Finnegan’s. I was madly in love with Bo Cavanaugh and, for the first time in my life, love was enough - more than enough - to carry me through whatever questions remained.

I spotted Bo leaning against the exterior wall of the bar as I got closer; his eyes broke into relief when he gauged my face. I returned a smile of reassurance, as he started walking toward me at a more-than-cautious pace.

“You came back,” he said.

“I told you, I just needed a minute.” I forced an over-hopeful tone to calm his apparent nerves.

“Or thirty,” he teased as he caught up to me in the sand, just outside the back deck.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, securing me to him.

“Where did you think I was going to go?” I asked as I pulled way. Bo held me at arm’s length.

“Well, that was a lot of information.” Bo released one hand from me and ran it through his distressed hair.