Page 60 of Secret Sins

But I needed to speak with Bailey. To set things right, even if I couldn't explain my reaction. Riley offered to drive me into town, but I declined. I had a feeling I knew where Bailey would be, now that it was late enough for the bookstore to close.

So I headed down the hill to the shoreline, shuffling through the sand and watching gulls dip into the sea before rising once again on the air currents. I'd almost brought Heidi along, but I knew I needed to focus on myself for a bit; she would have enjoyed watching the birds. The water helped calm me, even from a distance, if only because it was so serene. Very few clouds dotted the sky, and the heat of the day was relieved by the occasional breeze. This town was a personal paradise, and I loved it already.

Finding her at the railing where we'd run into each other on that first day, I walked forward with my hands in my pockets. Wordlessly, I kept going until I could sweep her into my arms, cradling her head against my shoulder. Bailey made no sound, no protest, but she wrapped her arms around my waist and clung to me. This was where I wanted to be. Where I needed to be.

Thank God, Bailey felt the same.

"I'm sorry," I said, but she shushed me.

Pulling back enough to see my face, she said, "I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to know how much I love you, no matter what happened."

"I promise to tell you when I can. It's just so—so fucking hard." My mouth went dry, my arms trembled, and I had to pull her close again.

"I shouldn't have pushed." Stroking her hands along the back of my shirt, she hugged me tightly. "I love you, Van."

"That's all that matters."

Whatever tomorrow brought, at least we had that.

Chapter 22

Bailey

Whatever it was that Van couldn't tell me must be awful. More than awful; it had to be traumatizing. Wanting to know every tiny thing about him wasn't necessarily my right, not if he couldn't talk about it without breaking down. I'd have to give him time, and just love him as he loved me.

He'd come to me broken, and though I wished I could make him whole again, I wasn't a miracle worker. We could only take life one day at a time, filling the cracks with as much love as possible until he was fully healed.

Since I wasn't going to press him, I suggested going inland to buy a burner phone. The corner drugstore here in town didn't have the right kind, or we could just pick one up from there. And then I figured we could have dinner somewhere low-key. Van had paid for our first date, and I would pay for this one. But first, the phone.

As the sun set at our backs, I drove with the windows down. Van held my hand on the console, and as the wind wove its fingers through my hair, I could pretend everything was perfect for the moment.

Keeping his head down and the bill of his cap over his face, I had to admit Van reminded me of the guy in my shop. He didn't want the security cameras to pick up enough of his face to make an identification, and he seemed to have an innate knowledge of how to move to prevent it. Quickly choosing an untraceable phone that didn't require a service provider, we headed to the register and used the self-checkout. Though he handed me cash, I realized Van stood behind me and to the side so the camera on the register couldn't detect him.

His cautiousness brought it all home for me. There really wasn't a time he could be himself, casually and out in the open.

Once we climbed into my car, I handed him the bag. He dug out the phone and peeled it from the plastic packaging, powering it on and plugging it into my cigarette lighter with the adapter he'd bought.

"It needs to charge," he said needlessly, dragging his palms over his pants a few times.

In the meantime, I pulled in at a fast-food drive-in so we wouldn't have to get out or turn off the car. Van smiled at me, a grateful expression on his face.

"I love that you think of these things," he said.

"Just trying to help."

He pulled me in for a kiss as a voice crackled through the speaker. Van pointed to what he wanted, and I ordered for us. Then he settled into the seat, focused on the phone. By the time our order arrived, he'd bent his head over the screen to hide his face from the view of the carhop.

"Thanks," I said, tipping them and rolling up the window.

"Damn, that smells good."

Absent-mindedly, Van grabbed a few fries from the bag and stuffed them in his mouth while he watched the phone screen. The icon said the battery was at 3%, and I felt the anxiousness radiating off him.

"Given the time difference, I would expect her to be at home looking over case notes."

The idea that he could speak to his sister in the next few minutes, easing both their worries, made my heart beat too fast. "What if she doesn't answer?"

He shrugged, glancing over at me. "I'm not even sure what to say if she does answer."