“How much did you hear?” His words projected low and deep as I removed a book from the shelf.
Silence of the Lambs. I thumbed through it until I landed on a dog-eared page. “Really? No bookmark?” I faced him, holding up the evidence of his crime.
“Audrey.” He let my name stretch, a plea for me to focus on his question.
I turned away, returning the book to its place, curious how many months or years it’d been since page fifty was folded over and those words were left to live their fictional lives without him.
“Does Eden not want me here?”
“Of course she does,” he shot back without hesitation.
I could feel him closing in behind me. “Please don’t lie to me. You were never good at it.”
“I unfortunately tried to lie to you quite a lot, didn’t I?” Regret seeped into his voice and had me guilt-turning around.
“You just had trouble talking about everything you went through. White-lied your way through your struggles. There’s a difference.”
“Shut one too many doors in your face.” That solemn tone hurt to hear as he hung his head, tearing a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to be the man I should have been before ...” He looked up, meeting my eyes. “For our son,” he said steadily, as if worried I might misread his intentions, and I was thankful for the clarification.
I reached for his forearm and gave him a gentle squeeze. “You have to stop beating yourself up. The war ... it just ...” What could I possibly say that he didn’t already know? I’d only ever imagined walking that mile in his shoes (well, combat boots) to try to understand. He’d been the one to wear them every day.
“I know, I know. I’m here now. We all are. Fresh start for us as co-parents.” He forced a smile. “I’m trying to make this work, I promise.”
“And you’re really happy not jumping from planes anymore?” I frowned, worried about him all over again, especially with that hesitant look.
All he did was nod.
I knew him well enough to know that was a yes and a no. Yes, he was happy to be fully present in Chase’s life. Attend his hockey practices and never miss a game. Be there for his sister at the lodge to help her out too.
Butalso, I heard the unspokenno. He was miserable no longer being part of a team and saving the world.
Wasn’t there a happy medium somehow? There had to be.
I’d tried to have that conversation with him a hundred times before he turned in his official papers and left the navy. I had to assume Eden had, too, but when the man made up his mind, there was no turning back.
“I’m going to find out who broke into your place and handle it,” he said, steering the conversation back into territory he could control. His jaw tightened, blue eyes sharp on mine as he ground out, “You have my word.”
I let go of his arm and stepped back. I recognized that look, and I didn’t like it being aimed at me. “What are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Trevor.”
He rubbed his temple as if he’d been the one hit instead. “You know me.”
“And that’s supposed to mean . . . ?”
His hand fell to his side. “That I won’t rest until whoever’s responsible for Friday’s break-in is taken out, that’s all.”
“Fine,” I huffed out, nowhere near satisfied with his answer, but I’d let it go for now. I pointed up, a silent message he’d understand. “But are you really okay with me staying until then? Same roof and all.”
His head tilted. “Would you like me to build a second one?”
I sighed. “Something tells me you would.”
“I’m fine, I swear. Haven’t thought about you naked in at least five years.” He winked, and I swatted his arm, letting go of a laugh.
“Smart-ass.”
