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This was not what I was expecting when I decided to come here today. “I think this is what they call an existential crisis.”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “That, or a good old-fashioned midlife crisis.”
“You’re only thirty-two. You still have all your hair.” A lush, thick mane that my fingers are itching to crawl through.
“Yeah …” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I keep thinking about that girl that showed up last night.”
“Violet?”
“What if sheisScott’s?”
“Then you have a niece?” I shrug. “That’s kind of nice.” Though the girl seemed terrified of him. Who knows what Scott’s told her.
“She’s not Wolf blood.”
Because Scott was the product of his mother’s affair with William Wolf’s accountant. “But she’s still blood.”
His lips twist and when he speaks, it’s in a quiet, forlorn tone. “I’m all that’s left of my bloodline, Abbi.”
That knot in my stomach flares. Henryisfeeling the weight of his family’s absence, as Luca suggested. I reach down to collect his hand from its resting spot on my knee and squeeze. “For now, yeah. Not forever. We can make as many little Wolfs as you want.” We’ve already talked about having children—enough to know that we both want them—but we’ve never delved into the specifics. When do we start? How many do we want?
A pensive look flickers through his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. With a heavy sigh, as if dismissing that line of thought, he asks, “So, what have you been up to all morning?”
“Oh, you know … Dodging a reporter’s call, letting my mother plan our wedding.”
“What reporter?” Henry’s voice turns hard.
“Some guy named Luca from theTribune. He was asking me questions about Wolf Cove and when our relationship started.” I falter. “And he asked about Ronan and Michael.”
His jaw clenches. “If those fuckers are selling stories—”
“Ronan’s not.” I messaged him immediately after I got off the phone with Miles, and he had no idea what I was talking about. I believe him. “And a few people knew I was there that night with Michael. It could have been one of them.” Or someone they told. It’s impossible to pinpoint. Gossip in the Wolf Cove staff quarters spreads like an army of ants after its hill has been kicked.
Henry knows this as well as I do. “Unknown number?”
“Yeah. I didn’t answer any of his questions, but I have a bad feeling.”
“Deny everything. It’s none of anyone’s fucking business. Luca what?”
“Just Luca.”
Henry scribbles down the name. “We’ll get you a new number today. Don’t give it out to anyone but close family and friends. People you know you can trust.”
“Okay. Thank you. Speaking of family …” I steel my shoulders. “We’re going to Greenbank for dinner on Saturday.”
His eyebrow arches. “Are youaskingme?”
“No. I’m not.” I’ve never had the nerve to make plans for Henry without his okay, and by the hint of annoyance in his tone, he’s not too keen on it. “It’s sort of an engagement celebration.”
“Will I be setting up picnic tables and fending off frisky church ladies?”
Clearly, he’s still clinging to memories of Daddy’s homecoming party and all the hens flocking around him. “No, and to be fair, you weren’t invited. You crashed that party.”
He pushes the hem of my dress upward a few more inches. “If I recall, it was worth it.”
My cheeks flush. That’s the night Henry fucked me on a hay bale. That’s also the night Jed caught us mid-act and then ran off to Mama to tattle. “It’ll be us, Aunt May, and the Enderbeys, of course.” There’s no Saturday night dinner without them. I warned Mama that if she invited anyone else, we’d turn right around and head back to New York.
“Saturday night with Fuckface. Even better,” he grumbles.
