| |
Sam's day had certainly taken a turn.
After she'd finished her story, Garrison had held her for a long time. Then he'd met her eyes and spoken words she'd never forget.
"You are a treasure, Samantha, and Charming Chandler, aside from being a jackass and possibly a felon, is a total moron."
She'd giggled, her relief bubbling up from a long-locked box deep in her soul. She'd told him everything, even the crazy God-talked-to-me stuff, and he was still with her.
She'd tried to send him off to the lake alone to spend the day with his son, but he was having none of it. She certainly wouldn't complain if he wanted her by his side. She'd slipped on her bathing suit—a royal blue one-piece—and surveyed her reflection. She let the first word that came to her mind—fat—fall away. Not fat. Curvy. And—she smiled at her reflection—maybe even attractive. Well, now she was just being silly. She pulled her white cover-up over her head and returned to the living room.
Garrison's whistle had her cheeks burning. She waved him off. "You're crazy."
"You're hot."
She ducked away so he wouldn't see her smile and found her beach bag. They were just about to leave when she got a call from her management company. Apparently, one of her cabins had lost power. The company couldn't send anybody until that evening and hoped she could stop by sooner than that.
She disconnected the call and slid her phone in the bag. "I'm going to take my own car. I have an errand to run."
Garrison agreed, and she followed him to the lake. She drove past his rental to the one with the faulty wiring not too far away. She knocked, waited, then let herself in. The place was empty of tourists. She wasn't sorry. No need to waste a minute being friendly to strangers, not when the lake and waterskiing and Garrison beckoned. She found the circuit breaker panel, flipped the switch, watched the lights flick on, and headed back to Garrison's cabin.
She knocked on the screen door. "Mind if I come in?"
"Come on."
She stepped inside to find Garrison in swim trunks and a T-shirt, standing in the middle of the living room. His eyes were closed.
"What's wrong?"
He turned, shook his head, then went into the kitchen. "Something's not right."
She followed. "What is it?"
He shook his head, sniffed. "Did you have anybody coming over today? A contractor or...?"
"No." She followed his gaze, tried to see what he was seeing.
"Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Does it smell like cologne to you?"
She sniffed. "I guess, a little."
"Not Aiden's."
"Could be Nate's." But the scent wasn't familiar to her, and Nate wasn't the kind of guy to load up on cologne.
"Before the lake, though. Why would Nate...?" His voice trailed off.
Garrison didn't seem the paranoid type, but all this fuss over a faint smell was a bit over the top.
He shook his head and dialed Nate's number. "It's Garrison. We're at the cabin. What do you guys want?"
Garrison waited while Nate responded.
"Pepsi and sandwiches," he said. "And you have a cooler, right?" Another pause, then, "Okay, we'll be at the boat ramp in a few minutes." He disconnected the call.
She grabbed the bread and started on the sandwiches. "You think we have enough food to fill Aiden?"
"I'm just glad he's hungry. I didn't know, after last night..."
Right. She'd been so focused on herself, she'd forgotten about Garrison's bigger issue. "I'm sorry I dumped all that—"
"Don't even start, Sam. I practically forced it out of you." He took her hand. "I wanted to know. I'm glad I know."
"But Aiden."
"I can handle it. I've almost perfected the walking and chewing gum thing, too."
"That I have to see."
"It's quite a sight." Garrison slid a few cans of soda into a paper sack. "Aiden was going to grab food when he came over earlier, but I guess he forgot."
Sam arranged the sandwiches on top of the sodas, then added a bag of chips. "Do we need to get water?"
"Nate's got that covered." He grabbed the bag. "Ready?"
She stepped outside before him, then waited while he took one last look around before he locked the door behind him.
"Are you always this paranoid?"
He shook his head, no smile. "It's been a weird week."
She couldn't argue with that.
She started to open her car door, but he cleared his throat behind her and said in his deep cop-voice, "Step out of the way, ma'am."
She let him open her door for her. "I'm not used to such chivalry."
His set the paper bag on the ground. "What about the idiot from college?"
"Uh, no. Not his style."
"Seems like Chandler wasn't charming after all."
"Very true."
Garrison's eyes narrowed. "Has there been anyone since Charming Chandler?"
"Nope."
He kissed her temple and waited while she sat in the passenger seat. "Sort of selfish of me, but I'm glad."
He stowed the bag in the backseat and sat beside her. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"What was it about last night that brought on your anxiety attack? Do you know? I'd like to know your triggers so I can avoid them. Not lead you into them like—"
"That wasn't your fault." She squeezed his hand. "It was just being outside in the dark, by myself. And the woods."
"I'll be more careful, but you need to tell me if I'm asking too much. I'm sure the rest of your friends are sensitive about those things."
She glanced across the car where he waited for a response and decided to go with the truth. "My friends don't know."
"What? How can that be?"
She shrugged. "Brady was off at college when it all happened, and we'd lost touch. Rae was...well, we'd had a falling out. It's a long story."
"And Nate?"
"I didn't know Nate then. And of course none of us had met Marisa. Most of my other friends from high school had gone on to college, and, anyway, I wasn't really close with anyone but Brady and Rae."
"But how could you not have told them since?"
"It's not the kind of thing that comes up in normal conversation. Rae asked me to go dress shopping with her when she and Brady married. I was going to do it—to try, anyway. But she didn't want to wear a bridal gown, and she ended up finding something in a boutique downtown. It was a small wedding, family and a few friends. They had the reception at the Lion's Club in town."
"That sounds fancy."
Sam thought back to the intimate reception, the way Rae's young friend Caro and her classmates had decked out the old building. And she remembered how Brady and Rae had looked at each other on that dance floor, how guilty she'd felt for almost destroying their lives.
No, she wouldn't go there again. Brady and Rae had forgiven her. She had to let it go.
"Rae's first husband"—not that he was really her husband, but that was too long a story for today—"was very wealthy. Her first wedding was on a yacht in the Mediterranean. I think she wanted this wedding to be nothing like that one."
"Sounds like there's a story there," Garrison said.
"There is, a long one. But it's not my story to tell. And if you ask, they probably won't tell it. It's all very hush-hush.”
"Now I really want to know."
Sam thought back to the events that had brought Rae home—and nearly gotten her killed. Then she considered what Nate and Marisa had been through just a few months before—the kidnapping, the murder. And here she was, over thirty and still scared of the dark
Good thing she didn't have any danger in her life. She'd probably die of fright.