His face shuttered.
C’mon, spell. Hold.
“Sam,” she said reasonably. “We’re trying to be truthful with each other, remember? I’d like to know about those years.”
Pressing his thumb against the table’s corner, he took a slow breath. Just when she was sure he was going to refuse her, he asked, “What do you want to know?”
She started asking questions. In an even tone that likely disguised soul-deep feelings, he answered every one.
He’d loved Kayden. And she could clearly see that he’d done his very best for Kayden. Unfortunately for Sam, his love for Kayden had ended tragically.
Did he view her as Kayden’s understudy, the one who had to get it right because the star of the show, the one he’d loved, hadfailed? Was he constantly measuring her against Kayden? Even if she did get it right and stayed clean, would she ever be able to compete with Kayden?
She didn’t know.
What did she know? She wanted to try to make things better for him. After hearing his history with Kayden, she was more ferociously determined than ever to stay off Oxy for good. For herself. For him.
“Will you tell me what you’ve found out about your folks?” he asked.
He’d just placed his confidence in her by telling her the hardest and most private things about him. In return, she found that she couldn’t shut him out. More than that, shewantedto tell him.
She explained about Russell, the Shoal Creek Killer, and her visit to Birdie Jean’s house in Camden. He listened in a way that was exceedingly rare in the current culture. He wasn’t distracted by technology; his attention didn’t fracture. He leveled the weight of his focus on her as she talked.
When she finished, he leaned back slightly, interlacing his fingers over his lean abdomen. “What do you and your sister plan to do next? Are you going to look into Angus Morehouse?”
“Yes. I went to see the house where my mom and Russell lived, and it was creepy. The whole setting felt wrong, including Angus’s house, which I could see in the distance. So, we’ll look into Angus. We’ll go back over all the photographs I took of Birdie Jean’s newspapers. We’re still also planning to check if anything unusual happened during the years when my parents lived in Savannah.”
“Because the person who sent you the mystery letter seems to be accusing both your parents of doing something. And they didn’t even meet until Savannah, right?”
“That’s right. Russell’s death happened before my parents met,and there’s little chance of my parents getting away with anything after moving to Misty River.” She combed her fingertips through the last few inches of her hair. “If my parents did something, they probably did it in Savannah.”
Dark eyelashes fringed Sam’s watchful eyes. Genevieve saw within those depths his loyalty and loneliness, his humility and sorrow. Those qualities made him beautiful to her, and like a hot air balloon, her heart pulled so strongly toward him that it snapped the ropes she’d been using to anchor it down.
She hadn’t yet been clean for ninety days. He was very likely still in love with a woman who’d died. In this moment, however, those concerns fell away like chaff in the face of how badly she wanted him to kiss her—
Abruptly, he rose to his feet. “It’s getting late.”
She stood, indecision swirling with disappointment. How was she supposed to get through to a man this disciplined? “Let me help you with the dishes—”
“No need.”
“I’d like to lend a hand.”
“No. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
She paused. “All right.”
They made their way to the foyer. Politely, he opened the door for her. She passed through, then turned to face him. Every reflex she had screamed at her to kiss him.
She couldn’t kiss him! She fidgeted, reluctant to leave.
“’Night,” he said.
Her desire and her self-control rammed into each other. The silence lengthened until it became fraught. “Good night,” she finally said.
She walked down the steps toward her cottage.
The farther she went from the light of his porch, the more the darkness encroached, and the more certain she became that she’d chosen wrong when she’d chosen caution.
