Her throat clogged with tears, making her voice hoarse. “But who’ll take the fish off the hooks for me when you’re gone?”
Doug had been the one to teach her to tie on a lure. To cast a line. To untangle a backlash. They’d spent hours fishing the surf around the island, or watching their corks bob in the water at the end of the pier. Chrissy cherished each and every one of those quiet adventures. But maybe she would’ve cherished them more if she’d known they’d come to an end.
“You’re big enough to do that yourself.” Doug chucked her under the chin.
She’d never known her biological father, so even though Doug had only been married to her mother for a little over two years, he’d quickly become the dad she never had.
And now he was leaving.
The pressure in her chest was too much to bear.
Is this what a broken heart feels like,she wondered? But if it was her heart that was shattered, what was wrong with her lungs? Why was it impossible to breathe?
“Just because I don’t want to wake up to your cheating face every day, that doesn’t mean you can’t visit Chrissy,” Momma said quietly. “She’d love to see you.”
Doug scratched his head. “Sure. Of course. But here’s the thing. I kinda promised Marla I’d move to the mainland. I’m not sure how often I’ll be coming back to the Keys and—”
“Then say your goodbyes, Doug,” Momma interrupted. Her tone was back to being rock hard and cold as ice. “And make them good.”
Doug’s throat made a funnyclickingsound when he swallowed. He returned his attention to Chrissy, and his expression reminded her of the time Momma had caught him pulling money out of the “Rainy Day Fund” cookie jar.
“Come here, baby girl.” He dragged Chrissy in for a hug.
She hiccupped on a sob when he patted her back. Even her eight-year-old brain was mature enough to realize this was the last time she’d smell his comforting sunscreen and aftershave scent. The last time she’d hear his deep, melodic voice that hinted at the mainland. The last time she’d feel safe inside the circle of his strong embrace.
Before she could wrap her arms around his neck and cling to him like a barnacle on the underside of a boat, he stood and grabbed his suitcase. She was helpless to do anything but watch him push through the bedroom door, his wide shoulders nearly touching the jamb on either side.
“Guess it was too much to expect a man that pretty to stay true to one woman,” her mother muttered as he made his way down the hall with its peach-colored walls and photos of the three of them as a family. Photos Momma would surely take down now that he was leaving. “Too many women willing to offer up too much temptation,” she added.
Doug paused at the front door, turning to stare back at them. Chrissy lifted her hand to wave a final, tearful farewell when his face began to change. At first his features simply faded, leaving nothing familiar. Then his flesh morphed and molded until another man stood in his place.
Doug had become Wolf.
Which meant he was even more handsome than before. His mouth was fuller, his square jaw more defined, his gaze more direct and piercing. Even the harsh scar near his temple didn’t detract from his striking beauty and—
“Chrissy?” A smooth, deep voice echoed through her head. But she was looking right at Wolf and his lips weren’t moving.
“Chrissy? Wake up, darlin’.”
That sure sounded like Wolf. All slow and twangy and sensual without trying to be.
“Atta girl. Come on now.”
Chrissy emerged from the dream slowly, inch by inch, breath by breath. But even as her mind registered ithadbeen a dream—or at least part memory, part dream—her body still felt weightless. As if she’d been caught up in a high tide and set adrift.
“Mmm,” she heard herself murmur. Her eyelids weighed ten pounds each, and it took all her concentration to lift them.
Then it was like she was back inside her memory/dream. Wolf’s ridiculously appealing face filled her vision as he leaned over her. All high cheekbones and slashing eyebrows and skin that reminded her of the old bronze penny she kept for good luck.
His hard, beautiful features matched his name. He looked like a wolf, sleek and fierce and dangerous. But then he smiled, and the expression was so sweet and pure it slipped past her drugged-up haze and sank deep inside her heart.
Tough and tender don’t have to be mutually exclusive.
He’d taught her that.
Too bad he’d also taught her that her mother had been right when it came to pretty men.
They never stayed true.
