“Could be.”
“And your mother. She’s been through a lot, too, hasn’t she?”
She nodded. “She’s been a worrier my whole life. She let her guard down, thinking my father had escaped the curse when he reached his forties. She finally agreed to his job transfer to San Diego. Six months later he disappeared.”
“And your mother determined it was the move to the big city, right?” His voice was faraway, distant.
It was like they really were on the same wavelength or something.
He stared out over her shoulder, his eyes dark and unfocused now, and a spot at the base of his jaw pulsed. A strange rush of heat, starting at her toes, ran up the length of her body.
She felt as if she wanted to punch something. She was pissed off. No. More than that. It was fury she was feeling.
What the hell? And then just as quickly, the feeling faded away.
“Yeah.” she said. “Got complacent, my mother said. She took paranoia to the nth degree after that because she worried that the same thing could happen to Corey or me. We moved around to many small towns in Washington and Oregon. We were in the Seattle area when Mom got her diagnosis, so we decided to settle here.”
He assembled everything on a large wooden tray, then reached for her hand. “How’s your finger? Let me see it.”
“It’s fine.” She kept it in her lap. “Did you know I don’t like it when people fuss over me?”
“I figured as much.”
“So why all the fuss?”
He stared at her, unblinking. “When you are here, I take care of you.”
To be taken care of by anyone was such a foreign concept. “I don’t need anyone’s help to do anything, you know, but I appreciate the concern.” The words came out quiet and half-hearted even though it had been her motto for as long as she could remember. The ache beneath her ribs widened. Being here with Dom overemphasized what she’d never have in her life.
Enough.
She flipped that familiar mental switch and smiled. “I know you can’t say much, but whereabouts are your offices in Canada located? You said British Columbia. Are we talking Vancouver? Victoria?”
Not answering right away, he sprinkled some nuts into a skillet and flicked them into the air with a turn of his wrist. He was the kind of showman cook who liked an audience. And she was the kind of person who loved to watch. After drizzling some olive oil into a shallow wooden salad bowl, he poured in a small amount of dark liquid from a small bottle with foreign writing and began to whisk the contents together.
“Our regional headquarters are in the Horseshoe Bay area. Do you know where that is?”
Her hands flew to her throat. Did she know where that was? “Oh my God, yes. On the way to Whistler Mountain, right? The Ski-to-Sky Highway? Wait. Sky-to-Ski.”
“It’s the Sea-to-Sky Highway from Vancouver to Whistler, winding along Horseshoe Bay and Howe Sound.”
“That drive is breathtaking.”
“So you’ve been there?”
“A few times. But it’s been ages. It’s one of those places that’s so stunning—” she put a hand over her heart “—so moving, you have to pinch yourself to believe that it’s real. That your eyes are actually taking in something so incredible.”
When she looked up, he had set the bowl down and was staring at her. Oh, great. Why was she always doing this around him? Giving him a dramatic play-by-play of how she saw things. He had to think she was much too emotional. Too sensitive. What was it about him that loosened the tight strings holding her together? Normally, she had better control than this.
“Sorry, I’m not usually this expressive.”
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Never be ashamed of your emotions around me. I’ll have to take you up there sometime. I know of places you’ve probably never seen before.”
“I’d love that.” Something gripped her heart and squeezed. Do not get attached to him, she told herself.
She sat taller on the stool and flicked her hair behind her shoulder. A current of something tangible shimmered in the air around them. Like she could reach forward and strum it with her fingers.
She spoke only when she thought she could trust her voice again. “So, what do you do for work?”
