Page 71 of Everything We Give

“More than words can say.”

She kisses me and before I know it, I’m at a complete loss for words.

After we’ve showered and dressed and before we leave the room, I clasp Aimee’s shoulders. “Are we good here?” I point from her to me. “About what happened between me and Reese?”

Aimee bites into her lower lip and her gaze turns inward. Then she nods. “I think so. Though, don’t expect me to be nice to her,” she says with a frown.

“After the stunt she pulled, you can be as nasty as you want.”

She holds up her fist for a bump. “Deal. And, Ian? I do forgive you for not telling me about Reese.”

I cradle her face and press my lips to her forehead, my eyes drifting closed. “And I forgive you.”

“For what?”

I lean back and look down at her face. “For last summer, with James. In my head, I forgave you the moment you told me, but I never said it out loud to you. I’m sorry.”

Aimee closes her eyes and nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.

I kiss her lips, gently, lovingly. “We’re good together.”

She smiles. “Yes, we are.”

I grin and open the door, standing aside to let her through. “Let’s go eat. I think we’ve earned ourselves a warm meal.” Alone, I hope, without Reese dining alongside us. I’d lost my lunch today. I didn’t need to lose my dinner, too.

We walk to the inn’s restaurant. When we pass the pool, I reach for her hand to stop her. She turns into me, chest to chest, and looks up. Wood smoke fills the air and the clouds have moved on. An obsidian sheet swathed in stars glistens overhead. Dishes clatter in the kitchen yards away and the colorful notes of a classical guitar ride the night air from an open window. Other than that, the countryside is quiet, settled in for the night.

“The sky is unreal,” Aimee says. “I have to get out of the city more. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many stars.”

I hum, transfixed by the reflection of starlight in her eyes. She looks at me and I give my head a virtual shake before I get sappy and drag her back to our room.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier. How did you get in touch with Lacy?”

Aimee lets go of my hand and backs away a step. I frown. That’s not a good sign.

“Aimee?”

“Yeah ... um.” She twists her hands together. “I didn’t find her. Thomas did.”

My head snaps back. “You got Thomas involved?”

“James told me a little about how Thomas kept him hidden in Mexico. There’s no doubt in my mind Thomas has connections. I figured if anyone could find a working number for Lacy, he could.”

“So you called him.” My tone has a hard edge.

“I met with him at his office.”

White-hot rage plummets through me, coursing through my limbs like molten steel. Every part of me burns. I’m angrier than I’ve been in a long time, more than I felt toward Reese earlier or at James for kissing my wife. I inhale, nostrils flaring and lungs filling to capacity, and then I release a rope of the most unsavory, foul language I’ve probably spewed in Aimee’s presence. Her eyes go camera-lens round and she backs up. Looking around, she moves her hands up and down, urging me to lower my voice.

I can’t look at her. I turn around and walk away.

“I’m sorry, Ian, but I figured Lacy had something urgent to tell you and I didn’t know who else to go to in such a short time.”

Her apology rips me apart inside. Hands on hips, I turn to her. “Good God, Aimee. I’m not upset with you. It’s me. I’m angry with myself. You went to see him because of me. I put you in that position. After everything he’s done to you.” Just thinking about Thomas makes her physically sick. “God, I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you about James and Lacy.”

“Yes, you should have. But it’s done and I survived. And get this, Lacy’s real name is Charity Watson.”

The name ripples through my head, its touch familiar, but unplaceable. “Thomas told you this?”

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