A smile that he absolutely needed to see.
The thought startled Jake a bit, but he didn’t have time to think much on it, because the man’s expression quickly shifted away from whatever the hint of a smile had been to something much tighter as he nodded, his eyes still downcast.
“I’m glad you like my cooking, honestly.” Jake took another short sip of his tea and then set down his mug with a silly half-smile. “I mean, I’m going to assume you like it,” he continued. “My sister—I told you yesterday, I think—she’s not impressed by anything I cook. But maybe that’s because she was married for nearly ten years to a woman who was the executive chef of one of the most upscale restaurants in Sacramento.”
Something in Jake’s last sentence seemed to surprise the man, because he jerked his head up, his deep blue eyes wide as they landed right on Jake. There was an intensity, a... curiosity. Aneedto know something, maybe.
“What is it?” Jake asked as carefully as he could, and when the man didn’t immediately look away, a small inkling of hope bloomed in his chest. “You can talk to me. Ask me anything. Tell me anything. It’s safe... I promise.”
The man almost flinched at Jake’s last words, tearing his gaze away as his shoulders tightened up again.
Ah, dammit.
Jake shook his head lightly, and although he had no idea what it was about his words that had caused the reaction it had, he immediately wished he could take it back. The pain of seeing the man recoil was nearly as bad as the pain still radiating up his thigh. Trying not to frown, because any sort of negativity, even such a small thing, might have the wrong effect, Jake shifted his hand on the table to smooth out his napkin. The man’s eyes darted back up, stopping on Jake’s hand this time.
God, he just wished he knew what the man was thinking. He wished he knew what to say. “I know you have no reason to trust me,” Jake started, keeping his voice low and soft. The man’s eyes closed now, and he swallowed hard. Jake continued. “But I want you to know that you’re safe here. And I’ll do everything that I can to show that to you. Okay?”
Though the man kept his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, and he seemed to take a couple of deep, measured breaths before nodding once. He didn’t look back up at Jake.
“Something I said was important to you,” Jake guessed, and the man didn’t immediately shake his head or refute Jake’s assumption. “Was it about... my sister being married?”
The man shook his head.
“Her wife being a chef?”
He shook his head again.
“Was it . . .” Shit. Maybe . . . “Was it about Sacramento?”
This time, the man screwed his eyes shut tighter and dipped his chin lower against his chest.
It wasn’t really an answer, but given that the man had responded with a clear no to each of his other questions, Jake thought maybe he could interpret the lack of response as an affirmative.
“Are you...fromSacramento?” he asked, trying to temper his own curiosity. But when the man shook his head rather emphatically this time, Jake had to admit to himself that he was confused. “But you’ve heard of Sacramento?”
A nod this time.
“Alright. Do you... know where we are? Right now?”
And that was obviously both the right question to ask and apparently the question he really shouldn’t have asked, because the man’s hands flew up to cover his face, and he shook his head, hard. Some unintelligible whimper seemed to escape him, and he shook his head again and then once more.
“Okay, that’s okay, that’s okay,” Jake murmured. To his complete surprise, the man suddenly lifted his eyes to Jake’s, his expression pleading—so visiblyneedingto know. Jake’s fingers pressed into his napkin slightly, and he nodded gently. “Do you want to know?” Jake asked, because he just had to confirm it first.
The man still held his head up, but his gaze shifted for the briefest of seconds to the back sliding door—the door that led out to the patio overlooking the beach. Then the man blinked and nodded. “Yes.”
The single word was whispered so carefully and quietly that Jake thought maybe he’d imagined it. But he also knew he hadn’t. He’d seen the man’s lips move, after all, and he was certain he couldn’t have made up the soft, almost melodic tone of the man’s voice, even if he’d wanted to. Yet it was still jarring. It was the first deliberate word the man had said, since Jake thought his outburst earlier in the day hadn’t been so planned, but this—thisyes—the man had clearlymeantto say it. Clearly, deliberatelychosento say it.
And when the man looked back up at Jake, his eyes were filled with a longing and intensity so deep that it almost hurt.
Jake somehow managed a small smile. “You’re at my home in Rocky Cove. It’s a little coastal town that—”
From the other side of the table, the man sucked in a sharp breath, which sounded a bit like the beginning of a sob. Then he covered his face with his hands, and his whole body shuddered.
Jake’s stomach lurched.
“Sorry, I, um...” He trailed off as the man shook his head. And then all Jake could do was watch, frozen in his spot at the table, as the man clumsily pushed his chair back, stood up, and stumbled away, down the hall toward the extra bedroom.
The loud thud as the bedroom door shut echoed through the otherwise quiet house, and then all was silent again, save for the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping at the shore outside.
