None of that clicks, but it’s close. I know it is.
The urge to lend a helping hand has never been stronger. But to who, or what?
He’s staring at me oddly. It makes my heart skip a beat. Air doesn’t want to stay in my lungs. I have to suck it in hard, consciously breathing.
Then he sits down on the chair beside me and takes my hand. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, Val. I know it’s shit, I know you’re freaked, I know it must be frustrating as hell just waiting around for your head to get sorted. But, babe, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”
“But why won’t you tell me something? One little clue, Flint.” The tears finally come, burning my face. “It’s scaring me to death. Not knowing. The way you seem so...I don’t know, indifferent?”
“No. That’s not even half of it,” he growls. “I’m just trying like fuck to make sure you don’t wind up hurt again. Maybe you’re right about me holding some cards close to my chest. I’m just doing what Cash said. You want the truth?”
“Please. I’d like that a lot,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.
For a second, the shine in his eyes disappears as he looks down. But when his gaze comes back to me, his eyes are brighter than ever, drunk on determination.
He holds the tall glass to my lips. “Take a sip. Let me think.”
So I do, taking a drink. I don’t think it’s just mango tea that eases my fears, but they slowly subside.
It’s driving me insane.
I can’t tell why he’s acting this way—if he’s acting any kind of way at all.
I can’t be sure of anything when I barely remember my own freaking husband.
How do I know he’s acting off? How can I be sure?
“Sorry. I just wish I knew something,” I say.
“It’s turtles,” he tells me.
“Huh?” I stop mid-sip, the glass pressed to my lips. “What do you mean—”
“Turtles, honey. You know, big-ass flippers, shiny honking shells, protected under state law and probably some Federal shit. Not the ninja kind. You ran a sea turtle tour, best one on the island.”
Whoa.
It’s hard to avoid spitting tea everywhere.
“Are you serious? Sea turtles?” It’s hard to wrap my head around it.
“Yeah.” He grins, his eyes twinkling. “By day, you were turtle lady extraordinaire. By night, you were planning your farm. You wanted land someday. Part of the reason we moved up here, where there’s still some cheaper land that’ll probably be sold off in the next five or ten years once the older folks get sick of farming. Cheap by Hawaii standards, anyway, which really means a goddamn fortune.”
I let that sink in, but it just doesn’t seem to fit. “A farmer? Me and you?”
He nods. “Mostly your idea...but it’s not like I’ve got a whole hell of a lot to do all day. I always told you I’d help get you set up. Coffee farmin’, Val. It’s harder here on Oahu when most of it happens on the Big Island. But you love a challenge. You had big dreams about growing your own beans, setting up a roastery, the works.”
There’s a happy, almost mischievous glint in his eyes, one that makes me smile. “You’re teasing me now. Just trying to make me feel better.”
He lifts a brow. “Is it working?”
Wow. I’m starting to get why he’s an easy man to fall in love with.
I can just see it now, working myself to the bone irrigating plants and pouring over coffee cherries to figure out the perfect ripeness while he makes wisecracks all day. But it couldn’t hurt a coffee farm having some serious muscle around, and he’s got plenty of that.
“Honestly?” I roll the hand he’s holding so our palms touch, threading my fingers through his. “Yeah. It helped. If this is two truths and a lie or something, don’t tell me. Let me dream.”
Flint grins, lifts my hand to his mouth, and...
Oh, there it is. Those lips I’ve imagined for what feels like forever finally gracing my skin with their presence.
Yes, it’s just my hand.
Yes, it’s sudden and unexpected.
Yes, I know I’m overreacting.
But it doesn’t change the fact that Flint’s oh-so-proper kiss feels even better than anything I imagined. It’s a rush.
A deliciously sweet, sexy kick that turns my face deliriously pink.
Savanny stands up, yawns, and stretches his long legs before sitting down again, licking his chops. The gold pendant on his collar shimmers in the sunlight.
“Turtles.” I grin as Flint lets my hand gently fall away. “Crazy. I would’ve guessed it’d be birds.”
“Birds?”
“Yeah, like the one on Savanny’s collar. Unless you put it there?”
Frowning, he reaches over and fingers the medallion.
“That’s a night heron,” I say.
“Yeah?” He unclasps the collar to get a better look.
“Sure is. It’s even got the ruby eye.”
I start wondering why it’s yet another detail that seems new to him, but his phone rings before I can ask.
He pulls it out of his pocket, glancing down. “Cash. I have to take this.”
An odd shiver tickles my spine as he walks away. No doubt about it, there’s more going on here.
Flint was just trying to make me feel better, and he did, but the weirdness with the heron pendant is like a cold splash of water to the face.
What’s going on here? My heartbeat picks up again.
That dread sensation I had earlier returns. I don’t know what to think.
Is there something he doesn’t want me remembering about my old life?
Something I’m not supposed to know?
He enters the house, and my breathing turns shallow again. My eyes follow him through the window as I stand, watching him pace, wondering what kind of man I’ve really married.
Danger blares in the back of my mind.
It’s like he doesn’t want me to hear whatever he’s saying with Cash. Why not, though, if it’s really about my health?
And why has it just been us here this whole time? I was in a bad accident.
Don’t I have any family? Parents or siblings or besties who’d care?
The breeze billowing off the ocean picks up, turning downright chilly. And it’s got nothing on the freeze that hits my brain, stuck on one scary thought.
What’s Flint hiding?
4
Secrets On a Stick (Flint)
“Hold on,” I tell Cash as I enter the house, making him wait until I’m in the dining room.
I can see Valerie out the window, but I make sure she can’t hear me before I press the phone to my ear. “Listen, I—fuck it. I have to tell her the truth, Cash.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t!” he spits back.
“Like hell I can’t,” I growl. “You didn’t see her face a minute ago. The chick turned as white as Casper the frigging ghost and had to hold her head like it was hurting. Bad.”
Guilt tugs on my heartstrings again, playing this bitter fucking tune I can’t stand.
“Why? What was the trigger?” Cash sounds concerned. Just not concerned enough to help me out of this hell he put me in.