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His masculine hand bore a thick two-inch scar down the middle. I ran my finger down it, not feeling as nervous. “What happened?”
“It’s a good story.” His hand clasped mine, our fingers naturally intertwined like they were dancing—he was leading and I followed. We grinned at each other. My heart felt so light I thought it might float out of my chest.
“I want to hear it.”
His thumb brushed against my skin. “When I was ten, my dad took me to the Gulf on a deep-sea fishing trip. I was so excited. Unfortunately, I spent most of the trip inside the boat vomiting. Motion sickness is a beast.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. My dad stayed with me the entire time and told me stories about his wild younger days until we got enough Dramamine in me to knock out a horse.”
I laughed.
“By the time I could handle being above deck, the boat was about ready to head back to shore. In my desperation to catch a fish, and probably because I was drugged out of my mind,” he chuckled, “I wasn’t very careful when casting my pole. The only thing I caught that day was my hand and some stitches.”
“That’s awful.”
He shrugged. “It was the day I discovered I liked women. The nurse was cute.”
“Sounds like a good day.”
“It was a perfect day. My dad had a way of making every day that way.”
“You’re lucky,” I said wistfully.
“What about you? Why do you call your father Auggie?”
I ignored the tour guide, who was animatedly telling all of us how we could audition to be an extra on the show. No thanks, I would much rather watch it. And talk to Kane. “It’s not as good of a story as yours.” I looked into his eyes, which seemed to see right through me and still wanted to know me. “Naomi, my first stepmother—the only mother I’ve ever known—believes it’s because after my momma died, he couldn’t bear the thought of loving anyone as much as he loved her, so he put up barriers, even for me. Calling him Dad would remind him of my momma. Or so the story goes.” I stared down at my lap, hardly believing I had opened up to him like that. I’d never told anyone the real reason why. I’d always told people it was just the way we did things.
Kane gently tipped my chin up with his finger and drew my gaze back to him. There was no judgment in his eyes, only concern. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed by that. That’s on him. Not you.”
It’s like Kane could see into my heart. I wondered sometimes if Auggie would be different around a daughter he could be proud of. A shining star like Ophelia. Naomi, of course, disagreed. Unlike me, she didn’t believe he collected stepchildren in hopes of scoring a better kid than me. She said he did it because deep down he wanted more children but couldn’t bear the thought that another one of his wives would get postpartum depression and, well . . . do what my mother did. Naomi believed that Auggie took care of other people’s children because he saw it as his penance. It was one of the big reasons Naomi had left him. She’d wanted to have children with him.
“Auggie, as you know, is not the warmest of men.”
“How about Naomi?”
I smiled serenely. “She is his opposite in every way.”
“You’re still close to her, then?”
“Very.”
“Do you mind me asking about her?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know about her.”
He squeezed my hand. “Did you ever hear of Fight Club?”
I leaned in conspiratorially. “Maybe, but you know the first rule.”
He barked out a laugh. “Good, you know your movie trivia. Did you also know most of your stepmothers have a club? And the first rule is that the first two wives are never to be talked about.”
My eyes popped. “They have a club?” What is it called? The Future Ex-Wives Club?
“You didn’t hear that from me.” He winked.
“So, are you a paid informant for this club?”
He swiped my bangs. “No. I was thinking of starting my own club. A fan club.”
I bit my lip. “Oh yeah? Who are you a fan of?” I asked coyly.
“You might know her,” he whispered in my ear, sending tingles down my spine. “She’s a hot premed student.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know anyone fitting that description.”
“What a shame. I hope you get acquainted with her soon.”
I wanted to know her more than anyone did, even more than the man sitting next to me, who had awoken in me every base need a woman could have. I now understood how all my stepsisters could obsess over boys and men constantly.
Our conversation about Naomi had to wait, as we stopped at our first destination—some abandoned old warehouses. It was funny how less creepy they looked in the light of day and without all the scary music playing in the background. And, you know, no real zombies. Though Michael gave us all a demonstration on how to walk like a zombie. He expected all of us to try it. Normally, it would be something I would be embarrassed to do in front of someone like Kane. Except Kane wasn’t like someone like Kane. He never laughed at me, only with me. He gave me the freedom to be ridiculous in front of him. And believe me, I looked ridiculous doing an impression of a zombie. He, on the other hand, made me want to tell him he could eat my brains any day. Especially when he grabbed me and drew me into an embrace. My head rested on his taut chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His strong arms made me feel secure in a way I had never known.
