“He seemed okay about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad.”
He deepens the kiss but keeps it nothing but a tease. “All the things I want to do and talk about are off the table tonight.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck. “The doctor says we can’t have sex for three weeks. It was the first thing I asked when I saw him.”
A pained expression fills his face. “Was your dad there?”
“Of course.”
He sighs. “I’d wait a thousand years for you.”
Against his mouth, I whisper, “Don’t leave me.”
“Never.” And then he claims me with a soft, gentle, completely unsatisfying kiss.
Epilogue
Three Weeks and One Day Later
Charlie
* * *
“Crenshaw planned on hiring Decker’s failing construction company for the river project to hide the money he embezzled, in exchange for paying off Decker’s gambling debts.” Ryder is filling his father in on the details that led to Jessica’s kidnapping.
Every time I talk about it, my blood pressure rises, so I’ve let Ryder take the lead as we’re sitting at the Moores’ dining room table.
When Ron’s brows are drawn in that deep vee, the similarities between him and his son are even more striking. “How’s the mistress play into this?”
Ryder takes a gulp of wine before continuing, “When they got cut out of the project, Decker got desperate because the loan sharks were circling for blood. He found out about the affair and tried to blackmail Crenshaw. The accident was caused by a drop gone wrong. After, the guy spiraled from there, and as he got more desperate, he got more stupid.”
Before there are any more questions, Jessica comes flying out of her parents’ kitchen, followed by her slower-paced mother and sister.
Jessica storms into the dining room with a big bowl of salad that she slams down on the table before putting her hands on her hips. “What did you do?”
Her dad and brother startle.
But I know exactly what she’s talking about.
I’ve been biding my time, waiting for her to find out what I did. I’d just about given up hope, but my girl always pulls through in the end.
I blink at her with innocence. “Do?”
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt that clings everywhere, she points at me in accusation. “Yes, you. What did you do?”
Her father furrows his brow. “What are you talking about, Jessica?”
Her lightning-blue eyes narrow. “He knows.”
Good god, I love this woman. She’s magnificent.
Ryder scrubs a hand over his jaw. “You haven’t said anything.”
“He speaks Jessica,” Hailey says.
She’s right. I do speak Jessica.
