Page 105 of To Belong Together
“You don’t like winter here. You only moved back to be close to your dad.”
Both things she’d told him on their first test drive, another reminder that he’d been paying her close attention since the start. But why? What did he see in her?
The sound of waves carried through the sticks of the springtime forest, and she scanned the trees for a glimpse of lake blue. Forest, ground, branch-laced sky.
Dad had spent his last days in a place like this.
Immediately, her sinuses reacted to the thought. How had she forgotten to bring tissues along? She hadn’t stayed dry-eyed long in a week.
John urged Trigger out from between them and put his arm around her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him.”
He’d followed her abrupt change in thought and mood perfectly. She felt more at home with him than she had with anyone other than Dad. As she imagined the two men meeting, she slid her arm around John’s waist, rested her head against his shoulder, and let the tears fall.
Dad had worked with his hands. John did too, technically. Dad had been quiet with strangers, but the reserve relaxed with family and friends. John managed to maintain it constantly, but both men cared about family and were loyal and hardworking.
“I think he would’ve liked you.”
John squeezed her shoulders and then, for a moment, he either leaned his cheek against her hair, or he kissed the top of her head. “Tell me about him.”
He hadn’t kissed her. He wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t hint at anything like a romance because he didn’t want that from her.
Yes, he did. Or he thought he did.
Her emotions—grief, longing for Dad, peace from John’s company, excitement at his attention, doubts based on her experiences—mixed hopelessly.
For now, the grief wouldn’t be spent by sharing a few anecdotes, but telling the stories might chip at it. Whatever the future held, she could weather some of the storm here, sheltered by John’s arm and tucked to his side.
33
As the show grew closer, the studio at Gannon’s would grow more and more crowded, but Monday found only John, Gannon, Philip, and Tim on the couches. The others debated the set list for the show, but John’s focus kept wandering to a certain lakeside trail.
He had been trying to keep a cool head with Erin two days before, but walking arm in arm had felt so right. He’d pressed a kiss to her hair after she’d made her stance on their relationship clear. He’d meant to honor her wishes better than that.
Watching her suffer with so few opportunities to help was killing him.
His peripheral vision caught a dark shape flying toward him. He lifted his good arm in time to bat away the throw pillow Gannon had lobbed at him.
Tim looked back and forth between them, hands open. “Can we be professionals for five minutes?”
Gannon smirked. “Just making sure everyone’s present and accounted for.”
“Of course he is.” Tim’s focus settled on John. “And you’ll come Saturday to meet with Carol and Lina.”
“Why?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I just explained. We’re advertising the show with a video, introducing ‘Wreckage’ with an interview. With you. Carol, Lina, and the production crew get in Saturday, and the team needs some time to layer everything together, so we’re starting work that night.”
“Saturday’s the funeral.”
“I assume the funeral will be over before five.”
The funeral and the light meal Erin and her mom had planned would end around then, but John had planned to stay with Erin until she sent him away. Of course, that sounded like a great way to keep crossing lines she’d asked him to back away from. She hadn’t pushed him away when they’d walked the trail, but she’d just lost her father. Grief made people vulnerable. He wouldn’t prey on her weakness.
His phone went off on the coffee table. He grabbed it and found Erin’s name on his screen.
Tim stopped talking, studying John instead.
“Fine. I’ll come after.” John unlocked his phone. “But I’m not rushing out of there.”
