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Silas sits down beside me. He won’t let go of my hand. “You need some water?” He picks up a crystal pitcher and pours me a glass.
“Thanks. I’m fine.” The glass shakes in my hand while I take a sip. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake, and now we’re stuck here.”
I see Gentry and Stacey in the crowd. Lorraine Morris and her gorgeous braided locks, I see them too.
“We’re not stuck.” He signals for a waiter. “Two Blantons, please,” he orders and still won’t drop my hand. It rests on my thigh. “Nope, we’re gonna turn your smile and this party out.”
His wink lifts my lips and heart. He gives me a few moments to gain my composure, and I’m being selfish. This night is about him, too.
“Are your parents here?”
“Yep.” His full lips pull thin before he sips the drinks served to us. “They’re by the stage. My mom’s the blonde in emerald green.”
I search the crowd, and wow, you can’t miss his mom. She stands like royalty. The man beside her, that’s his dad smiling like he owns the room.
This doesn’t add up.
All Silas has told me is he hasn’t spoken to his parents in years, that they got in a fight. Silas lives in a humble home by the river on Daufuskie Island. He said his grandmother left it to him. The free-spirited man rarely wears a shirt, always wears flip-flops, and has marine grease under his fingernails. But his parents look like cover models for Southern Living magazine.
“Silas, who are your parents?”
All I know about Silas Harper is that he’s obsessed with boats, owns his repair service, and loves fishing with me. That’s feeling like half of the story.
“When I tell you,”—he squeezes my hand—“I ain’t guilty by association, promise me?”
“I promise.”
Brace yourself.
“My parents are Earl and June Van de May.”
Holy shit. Pick up a feather and break my bones with it.
“Van de May? Like the energy company? Like the university? Like the most powerful family in the South?”
He sucks bourbon across his teeth before confessing, “That’s the one.”
“You’re not Silas Harper?” This is a distraction from my hell, and it’s welcome. “You’re Silas Van de May?”
He glances my way. “And there’s ten point three billion reasons why I don’t use my real name.”
“So why?” I stammer, seeing his resemblance to his parents, not the heir of a tycoon. “So why don’t you live in Charleston with them?”
Because even I know that’s where the Van de May fortune started.
A wisp of his hair has fallen from its knot. He brushes it back, not looking at his parents. Or me. His gaze is on the night outside.
“That’s a long story for another night.”
I’ve never seen Silas like this. Usually, he smiles like nothing upsets him. Usually, he eats a bait worm to make me laugh before he steals one of my Lemonheads to chase the flavor down. Now, the legacy of ten billion dollars drops on his shoulders.
“Wanna make a swim for it?” I joke because we need it.
“Nope.”
Pulling another long sip, his eyes contemplate me. The lure in them suddenly cinches my sex. They’re not backing down. Instead, it’s like they’re backing me onto a bed as he tempts me, “I’ll tell you what I’d rather do.”
“What?”And what the fuck? Who turned the heat up?
