“Uh-huh.” Her expression had softened a little, but it still wasn’t exactly warm.
“The workshop was good. Very helpful, and I’m feeling better.” He leaned forward a little bit. “Were you upset?”
The lights in her living room cast long, soft shadows. She hadn’t drawn the curtain, and the rising moon created a little path of light, visible through the bay window. From the kitchen, music played. Not her usual lively hip-hop, but what sounded like something you’d hear in the background at a spa.
She studied his face as if to discern whether he was sincere. Finally, she spoke. “Yeah, actually, I was a little upset.” Then she looked away.
“Why were you upset?” Now he slid forward to where he was sitting on the ottoman in front of her chair. They were knee to knee.
She didn’t back away as he’d feared she would; instead, she met his gaze steadily. “You know why.”
He reached out and cupped the side of her face with his hand, letting his thumb run along her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
“But we’re doomed,” she said. “That hasn’t changed.”
Now that he was touching her, he couldn’t seem to take his hand away. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but can we at least explore it a little?”
She bit her lip and studied his face.
He leaned closer. “Please?”
After another moment of looking into his eyes, she gave the tiniest of nods.
It felt like permission, and he moved forward and brushed his lips against hers. They were so full, so soft, he wanted to get lost in kissing her, touching her. His hands of their own accord threaded into her hair to pull her closer. And he did, for just a moment, kissing her harder.
But they had a lot to talk about and figure out. He’d hurt her, and he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability to get physical. Besides, he had responsibilities. Reluctantly, he let her go, keeping one hand on her, sliding it down her arm to clasp her hand in his.
“Davey will be getting home any minute,” he said. “I should go back.”
She nodded quickly, glanced at her phone sitting on the table beside her. “Go. In fact, Goody’s closed a while back.”
“Then they’re probably home now, wondering where I am.” But the uneasiness he’d felt before returned, a prickling on his neck. He squeezed her hand once and let it go, stood and moved to her window to look out.
His in-laws’ car wasn’t in front of his place. “I wonder if they took him somewhere else after?” He pulled out his phone and called them, but the call didn’t go through. Not a good time for the shore’s spotty reception to be a problem.
“Maybe Goody would know. She knows most things that go on in town. I have her number.”
He held out his phone and punched in the numbers she showed him. Quickly, he explained the situation and asked Goody if she knew where Ferguson and Georgiana might have taken Davey after the ice cream visit.
“How would I know?” she asked, sounding annoyed. “Business was terrible tonight. They never came in.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He ended the call and relayed what she had said to Amber. “I think something’s wrong.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AS THEY DROVE through the night, heading up the coast toward Davey’s grandparents’ home, Amber studied Paul’s hands on the steering wheel. He was focused, but not gripping it tightly. Concerned, but not freaking out. She could see the cop in him.
She could see the passionate man in him, too. Could we explore it a little? he’d asked.
We could have fun together. This could be the adventure I’m looking for.
But no. Her past was too much of a checkerboard, her future too iffy. Despite the fact that Paul had disavowed his interest in Kayla, the fact remained that another woman would be better for Paul than Amber was.
From the back seat, Sarge whined a little, and Amber half turned and reached back a hand to rub the big bloodhound’s head. “He knows we’re heading to Davey, doesn’t he?”
For the first time during the drive, a smile flashed across Paul’s face. “I think he does. He’s pretty protective, and he and Davey have a real bond.” He glanced down at his phone.
“They’re still not answering?”
Paul shook his head. “No, and I’m not calling them anymore. From what John said, I’m 90 percent sure they have Davey, and I don’t want to warn them and make them run.” John, Amber had learned, was a neighbor of Davey’s grandparents, and he’d been good friends with Paul, Wendy and Davey. Paul had called and found out that Davey was at the house with Ferguson and Georgiana or at least, John had seen him there earlier that day.
Why Ferguson and Georgiana would take Davey from Paul’s place and run was anyone’s guess. “Would they hurt him?”
Paul shook his head. “If I thought they would, I would have called the police right away. But they love him and he loves them. It’s just that they don’t know how to work with me, and they started acting really weird these last couple of weeks.”
Amber felt her hands start to sweat. She was pretty sure she knew why Ferguson and Georgiana were acting weird. They had found out the truth about Wendy, about the fact that she had had an affair. They’d found out that Paul wasn’t Davey’s father.
“Just a few minutes now,” Paul said. He pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing a little, his jaw square. He seemed to be gathering his focus and energy for the confrontation ahead.
Amber didn’t bother him. She just took deep breaths and tried to be a calming presence.
They drove into a community of large, modern homes, the sort of place only the very wealthy could afford, and that made Amber curious. Paul was so down-to-earth, but clearly, Wendy had been from a much higher income bracket than
