Page 45 of Entwined With You

I laugh. “You don’t even like Titanic.”

He frowns. “Sabrina told you that?”

I laugh, but inside I’m cursing my slip-up. “I told you. We talked about everything.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s grown on me. In some ways I feel like Jack. I let go and sank away, and she’s the one who’s really still living.”

I blink, fighting tears. Until that moment, we’d been laughing and goofing around. It had felt so easy when we were standing in line. It had felt like we were us again. Brent and Sabrina. And nothing in the world could touch us.

As if he can see the direction my thoughts have taken, he shakes his head as he says, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to toss a downer into the ride.”

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t. Oh, shit!” The car’s started to rise—at more or less a snail’s pace—and Brax isn’t alone when he laughs at my reaction. The others in our little box giggle, too.

I roll my eyes. “I told you I’m a wimp.”

He twines his fingers with mine. “And I told you that I’ve got you.”

I turn to face him, my heart swelling. I want to tell him everything, but I can’t. Even though I believe him—and yes, somehow everything inside me has flipped, and I really do believe him—I can’t say a thing. This isn’t just an ex-boyfriend sitting next to me. He’s one of a group who are intending to steal the Sisters.

For all I know, he’s even involved with the terrorists who want to ultimately acquire the diamonds. Except, of course, he’s not. After all, I’m the one who pulled him into the heist. Which also makes him one of the heroes who’s going to protect the Sisters. Just like me.

The only difference is he thinks he’s committing a crime, whereas I know I’m working for the good guys.

“Where’d you go?” He’s tilted his head in that way he does when he’s trying to figure something out. “I think I lost you.”

I laugh. “Believe me, I’m not going anywhere now. But I am checking out the view.” I nod toward the Pacific spread out before us, aglow with the light of the sun as it slips below the horizon. I twist around and up, trying to see how much higher we’re going, but I can’t quite see. And isn’t that a tidy metaphor for my life at the moment?

Because I have no idea where any of this is taking me.

I turn to smile at him, only to see him looking at me with an expression of longing so familiar I have to stifle a gasp. “Brax,” I say before I can even think. And right then, I’m absolutely certain that he’s going to kiss me.

He leans closer, his eyes locked on mine. Then closer still.

And that’s when I scream.

Not because he’s kissing me, but because we’re falling, careening down, about to crash onto the Pier at a velocity that will turn us all to mush.

Brax clasps my hand, and I squeeze back, so hard I’m probably breaking all his fingers.

And then it’s over. The fall. The connection. The possibility of a kiss. All swept away by the velocity of our descent.

Before I know it, we’re off the ride and standing on the Pier as tourists and locals swarm around us, the crowd having increased with the setting sun.

Brax swipes his fingers through his hair. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

I shake my head. “No. No, it’s fine.”

“It’s just that—” He cuts himself off with a frown and pulls out the burner phone. “Cami,” he says. “The others are here, but they’re heading down to the beach. Too crowded up here.”

“Let’s go,” I say, starting to head that direction and grateful to avoid whatever he’d intended to say.

“You’re so much like her,” he tells me. “From what I’ve seen, you’re fearless. But the little things…”

“That drop was not a little thing.”

He laughs. “She was terrified of cockroaches.”

“I know. And I don’t blame her one bit.” That is one fear I’m not about to pretend I don’t share.