Page 88 of Lost and Found

“I did,” she insists primly. “You really love him, don’t you? He’s good to you?”

“He would die for me, Mom,” I say, hand returning to my stomach. “But he’d live for me, too. For us both.” The corners of my laugh catch my free-falling tears. Salt on this achingly sweet feeling. “I’m going to love him so hard he won’t know what to do with it.”

CHAPTER 34

Now

Bea

Okay, so . . . small issue here.

Executing my plan while working full-time and combating occasional morning sickness and deep exhaustion keeps me extremely busy. Fire season rages on, and Silas is barely home for a few days at a time before he’s pulled off to the next catastrophe. When he is here, he’s dog-tired, and by the time I make it home to him in the evenings, I am, too. We usually manage to shovel some food at each other before we scuttle off to bed with the cat between us.

We kiss. We hold one another. But despite being seven weeks post-transfer and in the clear for sex, everything else has stayed aboveboard between us, and I can feel his touches growing more and more tentative. The ball is very clearly in my court, and it’s like I’m trying to run up the clock for an epic play. It’s foolish, but I’m—dammit, I want to romance the man.

It has now been two days since Silas and I were even able to connect for more than a brief text exchange, but . . . today is the day he will finally be home, for an entire weeklong stretch, and I’ve officially got all my ducks in a row, so, I’m currently flitting around the house trying to get ready. I feel bloated and my boobsache when the breeze blows a certain way or when I make any sudden movement at all, but I don’t care.

I brainstormed a hundred ways to make this more cinematic, consulting with my mom, Wren, and Sage at every step. I’d thought about taking him floating, but then the weather forecast shifted, and now the clouds are hanging fat and heavy in a gray-blue sky. I thought about a fancy restaurant. A weekend away. Ultimately, Sage was the one with the wisest advice.

“Having you in his home, romanticizing that space because it’s there with him . . . that is what’ll get him the best.”

I’m half-sick with nerves and half-buoyant with excitement, re-curling the same lock of hair for the third time when I hear his truck pulling in.

“He’s home,” I say to Cali, perched dutifully on the bathroom counter since I started putting on makeup an hour and a half ago. She trills, and I straighten her new collar before I scoop her under my arm, heart pounding, ready to go greet our favorite guy. I straighten the vase of flowers Sage dropped off this morning on my way. She’d pressed me into a long hug, her bump pushing into my belly, and I’d thought,Wow, built-in friends. What a gift that would be.

I spy on Silas through the kitchen window. He pauses just outside the front door, resting his forehead against it before he cuts a look back at his truck like he might want to get in it and drive off. His chest rises on a sigh.

My brain takes me there before I can stop it: Maybe this little bit of distance between us isn’t at all what I assumed. Maybe it’s not that I’ve been holding back and he’s picked up on it. It could be that he’s realized he wants out, that this is too much but he’s too loyal and good and doesn’t know how to extricate himself now.

Oh, well. I’ll never know until I ask. I’m not leaving a damn thing up to chance. I don’t need protection from the fallout.

I stride over to the door and fling it open.

The first thing I notice is his scent washing over me. Mint, salt, soap, and that warmth he carries with him everywhere he goes. It settles somewhere between my shoulder blades like a palm. The next is his eyes, like always. More gray than turquoise today, faint circles underneath. His beautiful face looks sunburned from the fires, and freshly shaved. His mouth quirks up tiredly, and a lock of wet hair falls over his brow.

“Oh. You showered already?”Okay, so he wasn’t in a rush to get home. It’s okay. Stick to the plan.

“At the station, yeah.” He spares the cat a half smile and a scratch between her ears. “Can I, uh . . ?”

“Come in?!” I blurt. “To your own house? Yes. Yes, you may come into your own home.” I move out of his way with a flourish. My laugh is approaching shrill.

Calcifur launches out of my arms like I’m embarrassing her, too.

I watch him empty out his pockets with stiff motions, stepping closer and wringing my hands. Finally, he turns back to me.

“Hi,” I say.

A long exhale through his nose. “Hi, Red.”

My heart is hammering in my throat. “Are you hungry? I thought we could eat and—talk. I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

He hangs his head and scrubs across his clenched eyes. “I don’t want to eat, Bea. Just—please. Make it quick for me, all right? Can you do that for me? I’ve felt like I’ve been on the verge of a panic attack for days and—and I had a feeling this was coming. I’ll understand and figure out how to deal. Just need you to say it, please.”

I feel my expression twist and take in the outline of him. The hunch of his shoulders and the misery that’s plain on his face,even though he won’t meet my eye. The way he’s bracing for impact. “Silas. What is it that you think is happening here?”

“Last couple times I’ve been home, you’ve had boxes in your car, Bea. There’s been—I don’t know. Whatever the fuck there’s been going on between us. You’re tiptoeing around me, and I gather it’s because you’re trying not to hurt my feelings. You’re moving back out and decided this isn’t a good idea.”

I close the remaining space and clasp his big head between my palms. “You got it wrong,” I tell him firmly, trying not to shake him.