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RIDGE
Iwatched the screen, holding my breath and waiting for Seraphina to respond. Finally, I couldn’t hold it any longer. Before, I could tell when she was typing a response. Now? Nothing. Maybe she hadn’t seen it yet.
I got out of bed and walked into the hallway, only to turn around and grab my phone from where I’d tossed it on the dresser. Here I was, a thirty-eight-year-old man, and I felt more like a thirteen-year-old.
Gah. Maybe I should try to recall it. But what if she’d seen it already? Then it would be weird. She’d told me twice today I was.
I went downstairs, opened the fridge, grabbed the carton of milk, and took a swig. I remembered there were a couple of cookies left from the picnic, so instead of taking another drink from the carton, I poured a glass, found the cookies, and stood by the kitchen window, telling myself I wouldn’t look at my phone again until I’d eaten them. I only made it through half of one before my resolve gave out and I picked up my phone.
Still nothing. Shit. Why hadn’t I trusted my first instinct and not sent it? Her sister was missing. We weren’t dating, for God’s sake. She was probably freaking out right now, not knowing how to respond.
Finally, I saw the dots on the screen, indicating she was typing something.
Sorry. My mom was having a nightmare. I like you too.
I downed the milk, shoved the rest of the cookie in my mouth, and turned off my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted to say something else stupid. My resolve lasted less than thirty seconds. I couldn’t turn my phone off. What if something happened and Seraphina needed to reach me? Or someone else? Like my parents. Or my brother. Or Brix. Or any Los Caballeros.
Are you still there?
Shit. Now, what was I supposed to say? Glad you like me too? Especially given I’d reverted to being an adolescent.
Well, good night.
Wait.I ran my hand through my hair, raced upstairs, and got in bed. How’s your mom?
She’s okay. Acting strangely.
She had a good excuse to be. Her daughter was missing. Me? My odd behavior was inexplicable. Except, if I was being honest, at least with myself, there was something about Seraphina Reeve I’d liked the moment I met her.
Another text popped up on the screen. Like you said, I’m sure she’s exhausted.
Please assure her we’re doing everything we can to find your sister.
I will.
I was about to respond when I saw she was typing something else
Will I see you tomorrow? I mean since Press and Beau are the ones coming to the house?
I thought about telling her I could come too, but I sensed she’d turn me down. We could get together later in the morning if you’d like. Jesus. She hadn’t said she wanted to get together; she’d only asked if she’d see me tomorrow.
I would like.
I smiled. I would like too.
After we’d both said good night a second time, I sent a message to Press, letting him know tomorrow at ten was a go, then turned off the light on my bedside table, closed my eyes, and pictured Seraphina standing on the deck of my new house, looking out at the ocean. In my imagination, she turned around and looked me up and down like she had earlier in the day. Had her eyes been full of desire, or was I dreaming it?
I know when I studied her, mine were. It was all I could do not to pull her into my arms and kiss her bee-stung lips, then run one hand over the swell of her breasts while I reached between her legs with the other. The way the property was positioned, the view of my deck was obscured from any other houses, not that there were any close by.
If anyone were watching, it would have to be through a telescope. Binoculars wouldn’t be powerful enough for someone to see me strip Seraphina bare, kneel before her, and kiss my way from her breasts to her belly button, then I’d spread her legs—and her sister was missing. What was wrong with me?
I rolled out of bed a second time and grabbed my laptop. I logged in to the software Brix had gotten from Laird Butler, the man who owned the winery and vineyards next to the Los Cab property.
Rumor was Laird and his wife, Sorcha, had met years ago when they both worked in intelligence in the UK. Given their oldest son was at least a couple of years older than me, we were talking way back to the days of the Provisional Irish Republican Army.
Like Brix’s parents, Laird and his wife had raised far more kids than my parents had. They’d had two—my brother, Dalton, and me. The Butlers had four boys and two girls, whereas Brix’s parents had six boys and one girl. The one girl who used to plague my thoughts daily.
I glanced over at the time and saw it was close to midnight, and this was the first time Alex had popped into my head since this morning. Seraphina Reeve, though, had been on my mind almost constantly. When we were together, it was impossible for me to think straight, let alone think about anyone else.
