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“It was just a nightmare,” my uncle says, pushing the dresser back against the wall.
My uncle kneels down in front of me. “It was just a nightmare,” he repeats, knowing I need to hear it.
I nod. “A nightmare.”
I close my eyes as I tremble. It was just a nightmare. Enzo is safe. He’s just not here.
My uncle touches my hand gently.
I open my eyes.
“Do you think you can get back into bed and try to sleep?” he asks.
I shake my head. I know I won’t be getting any sleep for a while.
He nods and then holds out his hand.
I stare at it like it’s a snake that will probably bite me. But I take his hand, as I could use the help getting up off the floor. He pulls me up.
“I’ll make you some tea,” he says before leaving.
I stare around the room. How long have I been asleep? It’s light outside. I don’t remember falling asleep. I don’t remember waking up. I don’t remember anything but that dream.
I grab my robe and tie it around my waist before I head out to drink some tea and try to calm my nerves.
I step into the kitchen and then freeze.
My uncle isn’t alone. He invited someone else into the house.
Not just someone else—a man. A handsome man, maybe late twenties, with a scruffy beard, dreamy eyes, and a white pearly smile. He’s wearing jeans and a buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He kind of looks like a sexy lumberjack.
“Who are you?” I ask, as I take a seat at the bar next to the man, doing my best to give him an unfriendly glare that tells him to get the fuck out of my house as soon as possible.
The man grins at me, clearly not reading too much into my angry scowl.
“I’m Beckett,” he holds out his hand, expecting me to shake it.
I raise an eyebrow and glance from him to my uncle. “I need more than a name. Like what the hell you are doing in my house?”
My uncle gives me a scowl before putting my cup of tea in front of me.
The man chuckles, like he finds me hilarious instead of mean and angry. Not the reaction I was hoping for. I want him to run as far and fast as he can away from me.
“I work with your father.”
I look to my ‘father’ as I have no idea what his job is or that he works. “And what exactly do you do for work?”
“We are fisherman,” Beckett answers. “There aren’t many other jobs you can do around here.”
“Of course, you’re fishermen.” I study Beckett and then my father. “So fisherman Beckett, you sti
ll haven’t told me what you are doing in my house so early in the morning?”
He cocks his head, flashing his perfect dimple and straight teeth that I’m sure most woman fall for. But I’m not most women. I’m not falling for it. If this man is friends with my uncle, then he’s dangerous.
“First, it’s the middle of the afternoon,” Beckett says, eyeing my robe like I’m the crazy one.
“Oh. Well, I sleep crazy hours now that I’m pregnant.”
