“Anything up there?”Bronwyn called up.
“No,” Willow answered, picking her way down.
When Tripp reached the bottom, he reached up a hand for her and felt a physical jolt in his gut when their skin made contact.He couldn’t resist curling a steadying hand around the indent of her waist to help her down the final few feet to ground level.
Even that innocent contact triggered a chemical reaction, his attraction to her as intense as ever.
Then she turned to face him, and a rush of desire flared in his gut.She was so close, their faces just inches apart, the wind swirling her sweet scent around him.
He was transported back in time to her final night on the island four years ago.To the hug that had teetered on the cusp of so much more.The unbearable desire humming between them as they’d stared deep into each other’s eyes on this same beach.
How he’d found the strength not to give into that tide of need and kiss her, he’d never know.Except she’d been drunk.He’d been half-drunk himself, but even then some instinct had warned him it would change the trajectory of both their lives.That if they’d crossed the line that night, she might have wound up staying and not followed her dreams to New York.
He hadn’t wanted to stand in her way.So he’d let her go.And lived with that decision ever since.
Did she still think about it too?Ever wonder what might have been if they’d acted on it?
“Thanks.”She edged to the side and brushed off her knees.Paused, her attention on something behind him.
Tripp turned around in time to see Rufus pawing at something in the rocks to their left.
Oh no.
“What’s he got?”Rafe asked from down the beach as Willow moved toward him.
“You see anything?”Bronwyn called out.
Foreboding filled him.An ominous sense of impending disaster.
“I think...Yep.Rufus, let me in there.”Willow gently pushed the dog away and crouched down to reach into a crevice in the rocks while he stayed glued to her side, ears up, tail wagging furiously.
She pulled something out with her right hand.Turned and held it out for the rest of them to see.“That sure looks like bone to me.”
The earlier foreboding transformed into dread.
He and Rafe moved closer as Bronwyn took it from her.“Yep.That’s the distal third of the tibia we were looking for.”She turned to Rafe.“Did you bring the?—”
Rafe shrugged his backpack off, unzipped the largest pocket and withdrew a long bone in a Ziploc.“Here.”
Bronwyn took out the bone and expertly fitted the two pieces together in less than two seconds.“There.Perfect fit.”She held it out, showing where the fractured ends lined up like the pieces of a jigsaw.“Probably broke when it hit the rocks.”She handed them back to Rafe.“Now what?”
He sealed them both back into the bag.“We keep looking.”
Tripp withheld a groan but didn’t argue.He didn’t dare.
All of this felt like a bad omen.As if all the dark secrets of his past were about to be exposed, just like this bone.
He’d already seen more dead bodies and bones than anyone should.He wanted it all to stay buried, including this.
Because digging it back up would only cause more pain and suffering.
From his perch highatop a cliff above them, Earl stared down at the small group wandering along the beach down in Shipwreck Cove.
So.Willow really was back.He’d heard she’d moved into her grandma’s place recently, but hadn’t seen her until now.
It had been four years since he’d last seen her.Not since Carson’s funeral.He regretted not going to Peyton’s, to give his respect to the family and be there to support Willow.Just one of many he carried with him.
She and the others were searching the beach for something.Her and a dog, the new sheriff, a young woman Earl had never seen before...and Tripp Rawlings.
