Page 63 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

“You were just a teen then. It wasn’t your fault. And you stood up to your father plenty of times.” Which had gotten him beaten up. Just like his brothers. Could one of them...? No, she didn’t even want to think that. “But you couldn’t change him.”

His jaw set in a tight line. “I should’ve done something... something more.”

Compassion tightened around her heart like a vise, and she shifted toward him. “We can’t change other people or the way they act. Like I couldn’t stop Mom from leaving. Or... or...” Tears prickled behind her eyes, but she blinked fast, preventing them from spilling and becoming like diamonds on her cheeks, sparkling in the sun. “Or my father’s reaction to it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, either.” He cupped her chin.

“But some things I did later were my fault.” She gazed into his eyes, channeling that compassion—not pity, never pity—and understanding. “While you only paid for other people’s mistakes, including mine.”

“I told you. You were worth it. You still are.” His thumb traced her jaw as his voice turned husky.

She placed her hand on his bare forearm. She meant it as a gesture of support, or so she told herself. But it quickly became so much more.

Touching him sent a new surge of longing, a tide ready to swallow her, ready to erase her determination as if it had been written in sand. She removed her hand and stepped back. Then she turned away and rubbed Breeze’s back.

Partly because it comforted her and partly because she couldn’t bear to see his disappointment. She was sending him mixed messages, and it was all her fault. Guilt stung. She was sendingherselfmixed messages, but that mattered much less.

Then she picked up a stick and threw it for Breeze to catch, but the golden retriever just looked at it with sad eyes and stayed in one place. “That’s strange.”

Dallas’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not chasing seagulls, either. Not that the seagulls are complaining about her lack of attention.”

Her stomach clenched. She leaned to Breeze. “What’s wrong, darling?”

Breeze raised her snout, but of course, couldn’t say anything. She just whined.

Argh. “Maybe we should take her to a vet?”

Dallas pulled out his phone. “Hopefully, she’s just tired. But I’ll text Austin and get an appointment.”

“Thank you. And, um, if you could ask that there’s no one with a pet tarantula before or after it, I’d appreciate it.”

He nodded. “Already on it.”

“Thanks.” Life was easier and better when Dallas was near her, but she shouldn’t get used to it.

He sent a text, then studied something on his phone, and frowned. He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, it’s from Barrett.”

She tensed. “It’s okay.”

Based on his frown, it wasn’t something pleasant. But then, what could be pleasant about a missing person investigation? Everything in her became taut, and Breeze must’ve felt Skylar’s tension because the dog whined again. Or was something wrong with Breeze?

The golden retriever was usually a fireball of energy, and Skylar never had an issue encouraging her to move or cheer up. Rather the opposite, Skylar often had difficulty keeping up with the dog.

Finally, he slid his phone away. “I emailed it to you.”

Her mouth went dry despite the humid air, and she dropped herself onto the warm sand beside Breeze. “Can you sum it up?”

He sat down near them, giving her a wave of reassurance, which mixed with her usual longing in his presence. “Barrett checked Earl’s friends and associates. Earl didn’t have much in the sense of friends. But he did meet up with one in a few travels, Wyatt Newman. And more importantly, Wyatt moved with Earl from his previous company to the current one. They didn’t seem to associate at work, though. When Barrett dug deeper, he found Wyatt also worked at another company where Earl used to work.”

A frisson, an alarm, tingled along her skin. “In what capacity?”

“As an accountant.” His eyes narrowed, but then he shook his head as if to shake off the thought they both had. “I know. What a weird coincidence.”

“There are lots of accountants in the world. It’s a much-needed profession,” she said, disliking her defensive tone.

But the alarm became an annoying fly that would take off every time before Skylar could catch it. Something about the new information bothered her, and not only an accountant’s honor. Maybe she’d been spending too much time with her pet, but this just smelled right. As if they were on the right track.

A hermit crab scooted near Breeze, but she didn’t even move her head. Normally, she’d chase anything that moved in a mile radius. The ignored seagulls cried out as if in confirmation. Skylar hugged Breeze, feeling her warmth, as conflicting thoughts appeared in her mind. Worries churned rising bile inside her.

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