“What’s going on in that brain?”
“Thinking how much I like the way you taste.”
I sigh, slipping closer so our legs are twined.
His arm curls around me protectively, and I kiss his beard. He’s given me a rash on my inner thighs, another way he marks me, and I adore it.
“Just sex? Nothing else?” I say.
“No?” He jokes, kissing the tip of my nose. “Woman, it’s never ‘just sex’ with you.”
I flush.
“You know what I mean. Tell me what’s on your mind.” I meet his gaze, and he looks away, frowning.
Bad sign.
My stomach drops.
“Holden, tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t give me that crap. It’s been on your face all evening since you got back, all through dinner. So talk to me. I’m right here.” I prop myself up on my elbows so he can’t look away.
Holden sits up and shifts back against the pillows, staring at his hands.
“My mind kept wandering to the damn egg. Don’t act surprised.”
“Again?” I frown. “Any new leads?”
I almost hate to ask, inviting unwanted trouble into paradise.
A shadow crosses his face.
“It’s not that, though of course I’m working on it. I can’t let those thieves go.” He sighs. “Just thinking what the hell happensafterthe egg. Have you thought about that, Clee? Your future?”
Oh. That’s not where I expected this to go.
“Um.” I look away, knowing he’s expecting some kind of mature, thoughtful answer I don’t have. “I mean… I haven’t given it a ton of thought. It’s been such anordealtrying to find a place we can trust.”
“Yeah, but that’ll take a few more weeks. A couple months tops. What then? What will you do with your life once you’re home free?”
My frown deepens, trying to guess where he wants me to go with this. But he’s just watching me intently, his stern face tight without betraying emotions.
There’s lead in my belly as I search his handsome face.
“Well… I’ll use the money to support my art. Obviously. I’ll find a real studio at some point. Maybe travel around, see some places I’ve had on my list forever for inspiration. Baja California, I’ve always wanted to go there.Maybefigure something out to help my dad that won’t just be drinking money.” I wrinkle my nose. Helping him depends on whether he still has it in him to be a decent human being. “No guarantees there.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Some place to dry him out, you think?”
“If he’s willing. Rehab, therapy, whatever direction he’d like to go. But he has to want to get sober first. That’s the hard part.”
“Worth a try. You can’t give up on family, especially while he’s still got time.” His words are encouraging.
But his face darkens in the shadows. His jaw tenses, just for a split second, and he glances away.
The chasm in my stomach widens. That heavy dread deepens, like everything is slowly sinking into a bottomless hole and I’m powerless to stop it.
