Page 25 of Silent Heart

“Pretty.” Kole stared at me with an intensity that stole my breath.

“They’re my favorite. They only bloom in the spring. Most of the bushes have dried up because of the warmer weather we’ve had, but this one’s in the shade,” I rushed to say, hating how warm my cheeks were.

Kole hummed.

Now that we were away from the prying eyes inside the diner, I knew the words I had to say. The elephant needed to be addressed before I could pursue that look any further. “Look, I’m sorry about invading your privacy last night. It won’t happen again.”

His voice tightened. “Thank you for not letting me drown.”

A grin spread across my face. “Anytime.”

“Don’t do it again.”

I flinched, not moving fast enough to hide the reaction by grabbing the keys from my pocket. “Okay. I won’t.”

“Harley.” Kole stepped into me. “It’s dangerous.”

He stood so close, large frame crowding me. I had to tip my head back to meet his towering gaze.

“It’s not safe to be around me,” he murmured.

That was an odd thing to say. It had to be the trance he was talking about, because we’d been swimming together every morning, and he was at the Landing every night. I needed to clarify what he meant but couldn’t bring myself to ask him outright about his condition.

“Are you backing out of your swimming lessons?” I braced myself for the response. Maybe that was why he agreed to breakfast. To let me down easily.

“The forecast is calling for rain and storms tomorrow morning. But I expect another lesson the day after.”

Relief swept through me. “I’ll see you tonight? For supper.”

Kole nodded. “Tonight.” Another moment passed. His gaze dropped to my mouth. But then his lips pressed tight, his body stiffened, and he took a step back.

Alrighty then.Muttering a goodbye, I hurried away, disappointment that he didn’t kiss me haunting my steps.

Chapter 11 – Harley

“Oh, shit,” I groaned as I pulled my Volkswagen into my parking spot. It was nearly midnight, and yet the living room lights were bright. I barely cut the engine before my grandpa pulled open the front door.

A baggy tee shirt draped over his portly torso and flannel PJ bottoms hung from his hips, but that didn’t mean he’d been in bed. No, he’d likely been sitting up in his chair. Which meant he’d be cranky, since he usually was in bed hours ago.

“Hi Grandpa, what happened?” I called, scrambling from the car.Oh, please! Don’t be Grandma’s heart.“Is everyone okay? I didn’t have a call at the Landing, and there were no messages on my phone.”

“Everyone’s fine,” he snapped.

Okay then, what the hell was this stormy greeting? I pulled my tote from the passenger seat but didn’t hurry to meet him.

“Get inside, Hariet Cora.”

My full name—that was never a good sign. Neither was the strong whiff of beer. He rarely indulged in more than a couple, but there was the rare occasion when my grandfather drank toomuch. It seemed tonight might just be one of those nights. I kept a smile plastered on my lips as I moved past him and entered the house.

Grandma sat in her Barcalounger, knitting bunched in her lap and anxious exhaustion etched into her face. A cup of tea sat half drunk on her side table instead of her nightly glass of red. Grandpa, however, had a fresh beer can sweating beside his recliner.

“Why don’t you sit down,” my grandma offered, pointing at the plastic-covered sofa.

Unable to guess what in the world this strange occurrence was, I sank into the seat.

Grabbing his beer, Grandpa stood, legs apart, glaring at me.

“What’s up?” I asked, splitting my look between them.

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