Chapter Two

Evie

The words caught in Evie’s throat. She no more wanted to speak them than she knew Griff wanted to hear them. His pain was obvious. It destroyed the glimmer of hope she’d seen in the molten bronze of his eyes.

She wanted to reach out, pull him to her breast and comfort him. She wanted to sing to him, whisper words of reassurance, and tell him everything would be okay. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell him anything. Wouldn’t tell him anything. The less he knew the better.

With a forced swallow, a slow, protracted blink, and a moment to collect her thoughts, she reminded herself of the reason her marriage was now in jeopardy.

Logan.

He’d asked something so huge of her, she was struggling to know what to do, and she’d given her word she wouldn’t discuss it with Griff. She had no intention of going back on that. She didn’t want Griff to know herself.

The last thing she wanted was to come between the two men in her life.

‘I think you should go,’ she said, sliding past her husband to access the living room. ‘I’ll make sure I’m out of your way when you bring Ozzy back.’

The self-imposed serenity didn’t last long. With her legs no longer supporting her, she lurched towards the sofa and collapsed into its obliging cushions. Before she had a chance to draw breath, Griff was kneeling at her feet, concern stretched across his face, his defined laughter lines as miserable as the situation. His head was inches away. It would be so easy to tangle her fingers in his hair and direct his mouth to hers.

‘We can work this out,’ Griff said, bringing Evie’s fantasy to an end. ‘But you need to talk to me.’

That was all Evie wanted – to be with the man she loved, in the bosom of her family. No complications, no secrets, no guilt. But Logan’s cry for help had changed all that. It had set Evie on a course impossible to navigate.

She steeled herself. ‘I have nothing to say that you’d want to hear.’

Griff edged away and slumped against the coffee table.

‘I don’t believe that,’ he said, after a moment’s thorny silence. ‘Like I don’t believe there’s another man. Why do you feel the need to lie?’

‘I’ve not lied,’ she said, keeping her thoughts chained to the back of her mind. ‘When you asked if it’s because of someone else, I gave an honest reply.’ If he’d asked if she was in love with someone else … Well … Thank goodness he’d kept his question simple.

She looked on as Griff planted the heels of his hands onto the table, extended his legs, and pumped his body up into a seated position. His biceps strained against the white cotton of his shirt, and his chest expanded, forcing the buttons to the furthest extreme of the holes. She’d seen him exercise with that move at the gym.

He brushed his fringe to the side. He’d let his hair grow longer than usual. Evie liked it – the gentle waves gave his face a boyish youthfulness she’d not been party to. Griff would turn forty soon. They’d met in their thirties, on Christmas Day. It was three years ago, at the harbour swim. She was dressed as an angel. He was virtually naked. He’d rushed to save her then.

‘You’ll lose your halo,’ he’d said as they stood ready to jump into the water.

‘I lost that a long time ago,’ she’d replied as he feathered his fingers along the edges of her wings.

‘It’s freezing in there. You don’t have to do this.’

‘I do. My daughter’s the other side of the harbour. She’s waited for what to her must be an eternity.’

‘She’ll understand.’

Evie laughed. ‘She’s twelve, it’s ten o’clock on Christmas morning, and I’ve raised her from the dead, insisting she be here. Besides, I’ve promised my sponsorship money to the hospice. I volunteer there.’

Griff inched back, appearing to assess Evie. ‘You’re swimming for the hospice?’ He paused as if debating whether or not to add more to his statement, then continued anyway. ‘So am I. They helped my mum a few years ago. It’s a fantastic cause. And it’s great that you work there. A true angel.’

Evie felt the heat of embarrassment rise through her core to her face. ‘It’s nothing. I like to help. And I get back far more than I could ever give.’

‘Sounds like you’re definitely diving in, then.’ He shook his head and sighed. ‘There’s absolutely nothing I can do to save you from taking the plunge?’

His cheeky grin and his confident pose made Evie laugh. ‘I was beyond saving the second I saw your Santa Speedos,’ she said.

Griff’s voice dragged a reluctant Evie back into the present. ‘Where did you meet?’

‘It’s not important.’

‘Does he come here?’

Her husband’s agitation was building. Evie knew the signs. His foot was sending a rhythmic thud through the carpet, his jaw was stern, and he’d developed a sheen to his forehead that he wiped with the back of his hand. Griff was a straight talker and he expected straight answers. And she loved that about him. She loved that he had no hidden agendas; that what she saw was what she got.

That’s how she knew the truth would finish him. And his relationship with Logan.

‘He’s been here, yes.’ She curled her legs onto the sofa, and locked her arms around her knees, a position she’d seen her daughter take on many occasions.

‘I still don’t believe you.’ Griff cuffed his forehead and inhaled noisily. ‘Has Tess met him? Dylan?’

It seemed to Evie there was little point replying when her answers failed to satisfy. ‘You should take Ozzy for his walk,’ she said, hoping to bring an end to the interrogation.

At the mention of his name, the dog barrelled into the room.

‘Later,’ said Griff, repairing to an armchair. He called Ozzy to him, and patted for him to lie at his feet. Once the dog was settled, Griff looked at Evie. ‘Have you slept with this mystery man?’ His eyes narrowed, and the grooves emphasising his mouth deepened.

‘Don’t do this.’

‘Don’t do what? Try and save our marriage? Save you?’

‘Not everyone wants saving,’ Evie said. That was the sad truth; a fact with which she had to come to terms.

‘Everyone’s worth saving.’

Evie raised a hand. ‘You’re not listening to me. I said not everyone wants saving.’

Especially not by their son.