Page 39

But right now?

I just want answers.

Chapter 20

Violet

* * *

I've been edgy all day. I blame tossing and turning last night because after Sully had dropped me off and kissed me senseless, I struggled to sleep. Both from the memory of his kisses replaying in my head and the noises outside my windows.

Just the wind.

I checked. The wind had picked up and tossed things around in the wee hours of the morning, blowing in a storm that drenched everything but was gone come sunrise.

But whether from lack of sleep or paranoia, I can't shake my unease. Like the storm had brought with it something sinister as well.

Jas and I take Betty to the boardwalk and get set up close to the pier. Today is supposed to be warmer than it's been, so the fishermen will be shoulder to shoulder casting for redfish, speckled trout and black drum.

We get a lot of questions about the mishap yesterday and why we closed early, but thankfully everyone is understanding, and their curiosity is easily satisfied.

The lunch crowd comes and goes, and I'm still fighting my uneasy feeling when I hear the roar of a motorcycle. I glance out to see Sully sitting atop his bike, looking like a thundercloud mixed with more than a little hurricane.

His jawline is tight, his eyebrows drawn low, his shoulders rigid.

My body goes cold and then hot. Because I know somehow, someway, he's discovered something about my past. My unease? That niggle that something isn't right? Call it intuition, but I know this isn't going to go well. And let's toss in my insecurities and memories of fights with my ex for kicks and giggles, just to throw more fuel on the fire.

"Looks like something crawled up his butt and died," Jasmine says from the window, shooting me a look of concern over her shoulder. "I thought you guys were getting along now? Did something happen?"

I don't comment. I toss my gloves into the trash and leave the bus for Jas and Tim to handle and make my way toward one of the open swings along the boardwalk.

I know from the heat of Sully's gaze boring into my back that he's following me, his longer stride eating up the distance between us until we arrive at the swings at the same time.

I don't speak. I wait. Which seems to upset him more. He paces back and forth in front of the swing where I sit, and I wince at his poor head after I watch him yank his fingers through the length for the third time.

Grackles make a ruckus nearby with their irritating chirps, and a V of three pelicans skim the Atlantic in an uneven arc before circling round and diving at breakneck speed, one splash followed by another and then another.

Sully finally stops pacing and seats himself on the knee-high railing in front of the swing. His stare is brutally intense, and I feel my insides quiver in response.

I remind myself that I'm in public. That I'm not married. That…

It's Sully.

"I told you," he says softly.

Too softly. There's anger in his tone, but heavier than that is the thread of hurt. Betrayal. I flinch at the realization that I'm to blame.

"Sweetheart, I told you about the worst moment of my life, and you didn't trust me enough to say a word about what you went through."

I swallow hard, glancing down at my clasped hands because it's easier than holding his gaze. "Because that moment wasn't about me. You needed to talk. You needed someone to listen. So I did."

"Violet."

He so rarely uses my full name that it startles me. I'm Vi or sunshine, sweetheart or sweetness. Now? I look up, my heart in my throat at the anguish I see in him. He looks wrecked, and I shake my head at the sight.

And then I do what I do, and I get defensive because it's too much. He's too much. "How did you find out?"

"It doesn't matter."