She considered doing exactly that.
But she’d prayed a lot over the past two hours. For safety. Comfort. Wisdom. Direction. And now she felt a peace about what she needed to do. What she needed to say.
First, she wanted some hot peppermint tea. And a snack. She didn’t want to wither on the sofa with a box of tissues when she said what she needed to say. She wanted to feel stronger.
“No,” Leland said. “I’m not hungry.”
She turned to Jason. “I’m good. Thanks.”
His words were casual, but the compassion and concern in his eyes made her breath hitch. Why did she want to run into his arms and convince him she was okay? She’d caused the worry lines she saw on his face tonight, and she felt awful about it.
“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten tonight. Neither of you have. I’ll order us a charcuterie board to share.” As if snacks were going to solve everything. They probably thought she sounded crazy, but she didn’t care. She’d think a little clearer with something in her stomach, sipping her herbal tea.
She called the bistro downstairs, put in her order, and hung up the phone. Leland and Jason were still eyeing her with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. Apparently, neither of them knew what to say. That was just fine. They didn’t need to say anything. She did.
But first . . . “While we wait for the food, I’m going to change out of this dress. I’m dying to take off these heels. And wash my face.” She walked toward her bedroom and called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She didn’t wait for a response, but she was very proud of how casual she sounded. As if they’d just returned from a lovely party that didn’t involve criminals, a car chase,and kidnapping. Now she had a few minutes to get her thoughts together before she faced them again. With the truth this time.
She slipped off her heels and made the awkward climb out of the gorgeous, less-than-comfortable dress. Her gray, oversized lounge top with matching bottoms provided cozy relief to her weary body. She lathered her face, rinsed, applied her favorite moisturizer, and stared at her shiny complexion in the mirror.
Dear God, please give me the courage to tell Leland and Jason everything they need to know. I know I can’t do this on my own. Please corral the anxiety stampeding through my mind. And subdue it. Once and for all.
And God . . . please help me process these feelings I have for Jason Bridger. We just met. It doesn’t make sense. So much is going on. This is terrible timing. He’s probably not interested. But . . . oh dear God, you know my heart. Please protect it.
Staring into the mirror, she straightened her posture and took a deep breath. And walked back into the living room.
Tayla sipped her tea and nibbled at some crackers and cheese from the charcuterie board—which wasn’t the appetizer plate Jason pictured. The smorgasbord of meats, fruits, cheeses, sauces, nuts, and crackers was a miniature feast fit for a king.
He sat next to her on the couch, the mountain of finger foods in front of them on the coffee table. Which might have been a mistake. Sitting this close, his leg kept accidentally brushing hers and the magnetism between them—which he didn’t realize was a thing until today—was impossible to ignore.
He needed to steer his mind from what her nearness was doing to him and focus on the questions he still had about tonight. While deciding how to broach the subject, he indulged in three bites of a cheese he couldn’t name, and something that looked like pepperoni.
Leland paced the room, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Tayla seemed unaffected by his agitated routine. She didn’t lift her eyes from her tea when she spoke to him. “Leland, you’re welcome to continue wearing a path in thecarpet if you prefer, but I have something to tell you, and I think you should sit down.”
“About tonight?” Jason asked.
“Yes.”
Eyebrows raised, Leland ceased his pacing and sat down. “I’m listening.”
She took another sip of her tea and set the cup on its saucer. “I know who that was tonight. He told you his name was Enzo?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “He seemed to be the leader. The guy you said you recognized.”
Tayla nodded. “I don’t think that’s the name he gave when I met him the first time, but I remember him.”
Jason leaned forward. “Are you sure? He said—”
“I know. I heard you telling Leland he thought I didn’t have a clue who he was. That was true. At first. But after a few minutes in the car, I knew exactly who he was. Last time I saw him, he had hair and a mustache. And he wore sunglasses most of the time. I think that’s why I couldn’t place him at first. But in the car, I heard his voice. And saw his wrist tattoo. That’s when it all clicked.”
“Who is he?” Leland asked.
She took a deep breath and looked at Leland. “He was in California. Five years ago. The day Spencer died. He provided the jet skis we rode that day. We met him on his boat, a one-hundred foot yacht. He took us out, maybe thirty or forty minutes from the marina.” She shook her head like it was possible to shake off bad memories.
Jason ached to hold her hand. He could see the pain on her face—not the same mix of pain and guilt that haunted him. But she’d suffered loss. His wife’s face floated in his mind, and ironic as it was, it made him want to comfort Tayla even more. He wanted to take that pain away from her, protect her from it. Though he had no idea if that was possible.
He was about to slide his hand over hers when she lifted her head and continued.
“Leland, I never told you everything that happened that day.”
