14

After she’d returned Detective Sullivan’s call, Savanna carried her laptop to the couch in the living room. She was exhausted and needed to sleep, but she also needed to prepare for the next time Gordon tried to reach her, which could easily be tomorrow morning. She hadn’t heard from him or his mother today, which was a little odd given how often they’d tried to reach her in the preceding weeks. She assumed they were both angry over how she’d handled their last conversation. She doubted they’d let her go on her way that easily, however. They’d contact her again, and while Dorothy could do so whenever, Gordon had access to a phone only while he was out of his cell and in the day room, or general area, where the inmates spent most of their time.

Her stomach cramped as she typed the name “Emma Ventnor” into a search engine. Although she hated to put a face to that name, she thought a picture might tell her more than she knew. At the very least, the accompanying articles could provide information Detective Sullivan had not. The police had been so calculating with her in the past, revealing certain details while keeping others hidden, that she didn’t trust them much more than Gordon. She understood the reason for the games they’d played with her, of course, but she also preferred to go into this phone call prepared, didn’t want to help them tie Gordon to a murder if he wasn’t responsible for it.

Several links populated the screen. She clicked on the first one and a picture of Emma appeared. The girl had been pretty, all right, with shiny dark hair and big brown eyes. Savanna could easily see her ex-husband being attracted to such a beauty, especially as she read more. Emma had been popular, a cheerleader and a straight-A student—the kind of girl Gordon would’ve longed to date in high school but who would’ve been out of his reach. He’d been pudgy back then, until he’d grown serious about wrestling. He’d also been such a troublemaker, which was why he’d been sent to an all-boys school for reformation.

“Heaven help me,” she muttered as she scrolled through the article, which had been written shortly after Emma had gone missing.

Please, if you have information, contact the police. We’ll do anything to get our daughter back. She’s always been such a sweet, loving person.

That heartfelt plea from Emma’s father made Savanna wince. She had a daughter, too. She couldn’t imagine the pain involved in what Emma’s family was going through. Surely, Gordon would not resort to murder, would not take a child away from her parents.

Emma’s car had been found on the side of the road with a slight dent on one side. According to her parents, she’d been coming home from cheer practice when she went missing. The police speculated that whoever kidnapped her had hit her car, and she’d pulled over to exchange insurance information. No doubt she’d felt perfectly safe, since it was in the middle of the afternoon.

Savanna found the same article on her phone and texted the link to Gavin along with a note that said, This is the girl. She needed to talk to someone, especially him after what’d happened last night, but when she didn’t hear back right away, she assumed he’d gone to bed.

After a final check on her kids, and a silent prayer that Branson could get through the night without another accident so he wouldn’t feel so terrible in the morning, she told herself to be strong. She couldn’t start leaning on Gavin. She couldn’t lean on anyone.

She was just putting on her nightgown when she heard her phone ping. Although she feared it might be Dorothy, or even Detective Sullivan giving her some last-minute warning or instructions for tomorrow, it was Gavin.

Are you okay? he’d written.

Relieved that he’d responded, she sat on the bed. The way dinner had gone, she couldn’t help but question what he was thinking and feeling. I’m fine. A little nervous about tomorrow, is all.

Reading that made her feel so much better. Somehow, intertwined with all the other emotions she’d been experiencing lately lurked the depressing thought that she hadn’t been enough for the one man she’d tried to give everything.

He didn’t understand that simply being around him was fun—for all of them. Thank you.

She hoped he’d continue the conversation. The more contact she had with him, the more contact she wanted. But he wrapped up the conversation with No problem. See you tomorrow.

* * *

“Who was that?”

As he put his phone back on the nightstand, Gavin glanced over at Heather, who was on the other side of the bed. When his screen had lit up, he’d waited a few minutes, hoping Heather would fall asleep. They’d been lying still for fifteen minutes or more—he deep in thought. But it was too much to hope for that she wouldn’t notice his text exchange. That it was such a long one didn’t help. He would’ve sent Heather home except she was now claiming to be afraid of Scott. If she was truly afraid, if Scott had threatened her as she claimed, he didn’t want to put her in a bad situation, especially now that she was pregnant. And he couldn’t give her his bed and sleep out on the couch, even though he would’ve preferred it. That would’ve offended her for sure, since they’d made love so many times in the past.

Hopefully, once he’d gone without sex for a while, he’d be more interested in getting intimate with her again. It was just too soon, an awkward time, given everything that’d happened recently.

“It’s no one,” he said.

“Who would text you this late?”

“My mother. Eli. A gig. Any one of my friends. A lot of people. It’s not that late. It’s only ten.”

“So was it Eli? Or someone else?”

“It was a friend.”

“Which friend?”

He punched his pillow. “Heather, I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep?”

She fell silent and remained that way for so long that Gavin finally began to drift off—only to be jerked back to consciousness when she said, “Something’s wrong. It’s different with you this time.”

Stifling a frustrated groan, Gavin pretended not to hear her, and eventually she fell asleep. At least, he assumed she did. The next thing he knew the sun was peering through the blinds, and she was up and rushing to get home so she could shower and dress before she had to be at school to teach her fifth graders.

* * *

Gavin breathed a sigh of relief when Heather left with only a quick hug for him. Thank God she’d been in too much of a hurry to demand they talk—or suggest they do anything else. After last night, he realized how badly he needed some time to acclimate to the decision he’d made and to file away the feelings he had for Savanna. He thought it would be nice to let things calm down with Scott, too, before he and Heather were seen all over town together. They had months before the baby was born; he didn’t see any reason they had to move fast.

He made a pot of coffee and a plate of fried eggs. Then he called his mother to let her know he wouldn’t be in until noon and carried his guitar out on the porch. He wasn’t quite finished with what he’d been writing recently, but lyrics for another song were beginning to take shape in his mind. He closed his eyes as he pictured Savanna smiling at him just after having removed her blouse and tried to capture the promise of that smile and the way it’d made everything inside him go a little crazy.

Two hours disappeared in what felt like two minutes, but he had a new song written by the time Branson and Alia came running down the road with Savanna walking more slowly behind them.

“Ready to go to the park?” Gavin called out.

“My mom gave me money to buy bread.” Branson waved a few bills in his hand. “She said we might be able to feed the ducks!”

Gavin set his guitar aside. “You will be able to feed them. And I’ve already got a loaf of bread that’s too stale to eat, so we’re all set.”

“Do they bite?” Alia, breathless from trying to keep up with her brother, sounded much less excited by the idea.

“Some of the geese can be a little aggressive if you rush them, but the ducks are usually tame.” He winked at her. “Anyway, you have nothing to worry about because I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I like your hair,” she said. “I wish mine was that long.”

He laughed. If he was getting such envious compliments from little girls, he obviously needed an edgier look.

He shaded his eyes so that he could see Savanna despite the glare of the sun. She was wearing a pair of jeans with a T-shirt that made the most of her beautiful figure, but she looked tired and stressed as she approached. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Not well,” she replied. “Mostly tossed and turned. You?”

“I managed to do a little better than that.”

“Good. I, uh—” she went slightly red in the face “—kept you pretty busy night before last, so I’m sure you needed the rest.”

“I didn’t mind losing sleep.”

She flashed him a self-conscious grin. “Thanks for saying that. I came on so strong I’ve been afraid that maybe it was...too strong.”

“No. You did nothing wrong, nothing I didn’t like.”

When their eyes met and held, he wondered what it was about this woman. She got to him on such a gut level. He couldn’t help letting his gaze slide down to her mouth. He wanted to taste her again... “You could’ve used a good night’s sleep yourself,” he said.

“Tonight will be better, providing I get that call I’m expecting.”

“What call?” Branson wrinkled his nose as he looked up at his mother.

“I’m dealing with some of the contractors who will be fixing our house this morning, remember?” she said, letting Gavin know that they weren’t aware she might be speaking to their father.

Gavin tried to draw Branson’s and Alia’s attention. “Have you ever seen a guitar up close?”

“No.” Branson crouched down to get a better look. “Can you play it?”

“I can,” Gavin told him. “I play it all the time.”

“Will you play it for us?”

Before he could answer, Alia added, “And sing for us, too?”

“Sure.” Gavin slung his guitar over his shoulder. “What would you like to hear?”

They looked to their mother to answer for them. “I’m not sure what type of songs you do,” Savanna said.

“I play folk rock, blues, soul, even a little pop rock.”

“Is there a song you’ve been doing a lot lately?”

“I’ll play one that’s been going over pretty well at my shows. It’s the only true country song I do, but I’ve thrown it into my set because some of the bars I play are out in farming communities, and they typically like country music.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He sang Keith Urban’s “Blue Ain’t Your Color” but, considering the lyrics, decided afterward that it probably wasn’t the wisest choice. By the time he finished, he and Savanna were staring at each other with such naked longing he felt transfixed.

“You sing good!” Alia piped up, shattering the moment and reminding him that they weren’t alone.

He cleared his throat as he put down his guitar. “Thanks. I plan on moving to Nashville soon.”

Savanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Nashville! How soon?”

He had to leave Silver Springs, he realized. Right away. Even if Aiyana wasn’t ready to marry Cal. He’d been trying to wait, but his peace of mind was at stake. He could never be the kind of husband he wanted to be to Heather—the kind of husband he’d always envisioned himself as being—when he wanted Savanna instead. And that would impact the kind of father he was, too. So he had to get far away from her. “In the next couple of months,” he replied.

That was fast to plan and execute a move, especially because he had to find a replacement for himself at New Horizons before he could leave town. Even still, as he remembered Savanna arching her back to meet his thrusts, her hands fisted in his hair and her mouth open and receptive beneath his, he wasn’t convinced it would be fast enough. Two months would equal sixty nights he’d have to overcome the temptation to return to her bed...

“We’d better get over to the park,” he told the kids, putting his guitar in the house and locking up before helping them into his truck.