The request touched her. “I’d like that.”
Nash bowed his head, still holding her hand. “Lord, we ask for Your wisdom and guidance. Help us see the truth and protect us from those who wish us harm. Give us clarity and strength for whatever lies ahead. In Jesus Christ’s name, amen.”
“Amen,” Sadie whispered, finding comfort in the simple ritual.
When she opened her eyes, Nash was watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch. His gaze lingered on her face.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing,” he said softly. “It’s just … you know, Sadie, you’re beautiful too.”
“What?” she repeated, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment.
Nash flashed a grin. “Hey, you can say I’m handsome, but I can’t say you’re beautiful?”
Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she knew she was in trouble. This wasn’t part of the plan. Getting attached to Nash—or anyone—was dangerous. But the warmth in his eyes made her forget, just for a moment, all the reasons she should keep her distance.
She looked down at their still-joined hands. “I think we’d better start talking before I chicken out.”
Nash squeezed her hand once before releasing it. “Alright, Sadie Blair. I’m all ears.”
CHAPTER 7
Nash couldn’t tell which was making his heart pound harder—the fact that they were finally on the verge of having an honest conversation about everything, or the way Sadie’s green eyes seemed to catch every flicker of light from the lamp beside them. He’d always been a sucker for those eyes, even back in high school when he’d tried to play it cool.
The remains of their dinner sat forgotten on the kitchen counter.
He’d texted Brooks while making coffee, giving him a quick update without mentioning that Sadie was staying at his place. That detail felt too personal somehow, like sharing it would diminish what was happening between them. Besides, his brothers would never let him hear the end of it if they found out he had a woman staying at his house after knowing her for all of two days—even if that woman was someone he’d been hung up on for eight years.
“So,” he began, shifting slightly to look directly at her, “let’s start with the stuff Brooks found. He thinks the Ferrante crime family might be involved.”
“What did you say?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Nash straightened, instantly alert. “What is it?”
Sadie’s hands were trembling now, and she pressed them together to stop the shaking. “The Ferrantes,” she repeated, her voice hollow. “That’s … that’s the family my father was going to testify against. That’s who we were running from.”
The revelation hit Nash like a physical blow.
This wasn’t just a coincidence—this was a direct connection between Sadie’s past and the gold they were hunting. The pieces were starting to fall into place, and the picture they formed made his stomach churn.
“You’re sure?” he asked, even though her reaction had already confirmed it.
She nodded, her eyes unfocused, staring at some point in the middle distance. “Yes, his name was Vincent Ferrante. My father worked in shipping. One night, at the dock, he witnessed Vincent … killing someone.” Her eyes refocused, meeting his with sudden intensity.
“Oh gosh. Tell me everything,” Nash said, shifting into what his brothers called his lawyer mode. “How did your father get involved with them?”
Sadie took a deep breath, steadying herself. “My father was brilliant with logistics. He could look at shipping manifests and spot patterns no one else saw. The company he worked for was contracted by Ferrante Imports to handle their international shipping. At first, everything seemed legitimate.”
“But it wasn’t,” Nash supplied.
“My father noticed discrepancies in the cargo weight versus what was declared. Small things at first, then bigger inconsistencies. He started keeping records, documenting everything.”
“Smart man,” Nash murmured.
“One night, he went to the docks to check a manifest and … saw the murder.” She shook her head. “After that, he gathered evidence for nearly a year before he went to the FBI. They builta case, preparing him to testify.” Her expression darkened. “But somehow, the Ferrantes found out. We had to leave Boston in the middle of the night. New identities, new backstories, new lives in Cross Creek.”
“So you were in Cross Creek for a year, then prom happened and you left,” Nash said quietly.
