The warm wind hits my face as I stand, the sun now dipping behind the horizon. “Thank you.”
Fenton sweeps past the front of the car and has his hand around my waist before I can get myself together. “Ready?”
I force a swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes. I’m ready.”
The door swings closed, the sound of it catapulting through the room—the same room I had dinner with Fenton before. It looks exactly the same, from the décor to the server that just left after placing covered dishes in front of us.
I stare at him from across the table. He’s assessing me in his pensive way, fact-gathering all he can from my demeanor. I wonder vaguely what kind of data he’s getting because I can’t even figure out how I feel or what I’m thinking.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, his lips tugged up in a grin.
“Naturally.”
He laughs and reaches his hand across the table. He places his on top of mine, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. It feels good, simple—right. But I can’t get ahead of myself. I have to stay focused on words. Not touches.
“You know I’ve missed you too, Fent. Probably way more than I should.”
He smiles softly. “So, how is your brother?”
“I wish I knew.”
“No news?”
“No, other than my parents are pursuing a lawsuit against Brady’s employer.”
He pulls his hands away and cracks his knuckles.”What do they expect to get out of that?”
“We think they’re hiding something.”
I let my gaze drift to the dark waters of the Pacific through the windows. “When we were little, Brady was scared of the dark. I really wasn’t, probably because we shared a room in our little bungalow and he was my big brother and I thought he’d protect me if something bad happened. But he used to sing himself to sleep to distract himself from the monsters he was sure lived in our closet.” My heart burns with the memories, the sound of him singing the theme to He-Man making me smile. “I wonder if he’s out there somewhere now, singing himself to sleep, distracting himself from the real monsters. The worst part is, I don’t even know where he is. Is it dark there? Is he warm? Is he cold? Is he bleeding? Does he know we want him back? Does he think we forgot about him?”
I swipe my napkin off the table and press it to my eyes. I don’t want to cry, not here. Not now.
Fenton moves to stand and I wave him off. “Don’t. I’m fine,” I sniffle. “If you come over here and hug me, I’ll cry.”
“I hate seeing you like this.” I can tell his throat is dry because the words come out like sandpaper.
“Yeah, me too,” I laugh.
He watches me carefully before pushing back from the table despite my wishes. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head. My stomach is in so many knots right now I couldn’t force anything down.
He stands and whips around the table, pulling me to my feet and into him before I can object. I rest my head against his chest and listen to the strumming of his heartbeat. It’s the warmest, safest place I’ve ever been besides my daddy’s arms when I was a little girl. I could get used to it. I want to get used to it. I want him to want me to get used to it.
He draws away far too soon and takes my hand, locking our fingers together, and leads me to the sofa facing the water in the center of the room. As we sit, I notice his breathing has gotten quicker, his hand squeezing mine off and on.
“So, how did Grant and I end up at Pano last night?”
Fenton stares at the water, his profile so rugged and handsome. He has a trace of stubble dotting his jawline and I itch to touch it, to run my fingers from his temple down to his supple lips.
He turns slowly to face me, his pupils wide in the soft light. “I had someone track him down and offer him a gift card.”
“Are you serious?”
His head nods slowly, his hand releasing mine and wiping across the top of his pants.
“Why would you do that? How did you even know who he was?”
I’m at a loss for words. My head is spinning because although I figured something like this was the case, hearing him admit it is beyond crazy.
“I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him before last night.”
I sink back into the sofa, watching him uneasily. He’s nervous, but he seems confident. He’s looking me straight in the eye. I press forward. “So how did you find him? I don’t get it.”
“Finding people is easy.” He seems to realize what he’s said as my face falls. “I’m sorry.”
“Finding people in this country must be easy, I guess, when you have money.” I force a smile, trying to make light of the comment, even though it makes my heart hurt.
He flashes me a tight grin and chooses to keep going and not dwell on his slip-up. “I called a guy I work with and he did some digging on Grant. We tracked him to the marina and someone gave him a gift certificate.”
“But why?”