My sister’s husband sighs. “Yeah…I don’t have any proof but I was always under the impression that he committed those crimes for Gabby. That he did it to please her, somehow.”
“What do you mean?” Alexia questions.
“The woman just never seemed…satisfied.” Cannon gives a little shrug. “No matter how much my brother did for her, it never seemed enough. I think she just wanted more. And he wanted to give her more in the hopes that she’d finally be happy.”
Lexi rubs Cannon’s back as his voice becomes rough with emotion. “Walker said he saw her in some YouTube video a few months ago…” my sister whispers.
I nod. “Yeah, I was there. I saw her, too. Just living her best life like she didn’t run off and leave her little girl behind.” Blood simmering with anger, my eyes go to Cannon. “Do you think she’ll come back one day? Back to Crescent Harbor?”
Cannon’s gaze narrows and his jaw goes tight. “I hope she doesn’t. Not after the way she abandoned Callie. Eli would kill for his daughter so Gabby better not come back. Because there’s no telling what he would do if he saw her face-to-face.”
19 Jessa
Balancing the picnic basket in the crook of my arm, I take the curvy slope through the dense trees and head away from the house, down toward the water.
My smile widens as I close in on the dock. I’m not sure my heart is strong enough to take all the cuteness.
Callie and Eli sit side by side on the wooden slats with their feet dangling over the calm water. They’re talking and laughing together, each of them holding a fishing pole in hand.
The sound of my canvas sneakers slapping the dock alerts the father-daughter duo to my presence. Callie’s eyes twinkle when she glances back and sees me. “Jessa! You’re back!”
I wave. “Hey, Cal!” The cool wind swishes my dress around my legs as I approach.
The child abandons her fishing pole and crawls partway down the dock before pushing to her feet and running the rest of the way to me. She latches onto my leg.
Giggling, I hug her back. “I saw you guys through the kitchen window,” I tell her. “Did you catch any dolphins?” I ask as we stroll toward the end of the dock.
“No, we only caught one trout.” A little crease forms between her brows when she pouts.
“Do you want a try?” she picks up her fishing rod and stretches it out to me. The brim of her yellow bucket hat flops down over her face. It has little butterflies on it. She wears a pink thermal sweater, a bright orange life jacket, colorful leggings and rain boots. She’s beyond adorable.
“Oh, I’m not dressed for fishing.” I motion toward my fluttery dress. Goosebumps rise along my legs when I feel Eli’s eyes travel over me. I try to ignore the feeling. I try to convince myself it’s just the chilly air. “Hi,” I say to my boss.
“Hi,” he replies.
I deliberately break eye contact with the man. “I only came to see if anyone is in the mood for snacks.” Gaze focused on Callie, I wiggle around the picnic basket to draw attention to it.
“Yay! Snacks!” She claps excitedly.
I unfurl an old blanket I found in Eli’s linen closet. Callie helps me set out our midmorning feast of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, juice boxes, grapes, celery sticks and animal crackers.
Eli approaches reluctantly and sits with us. His eyes meet mine. I try to ignore my visceral reaction but it’s virtually impossible to ignore the impact of a freight train crashing through my gut.
Callie chatters sporadically as the three of us munch on finger food and watch the ripples moving across the surface of the water. It’s so serene out here. Beautiful. And despite all the tension between me and my boss, I like how it feels, just the three of us, hiding out, tucked away from the world.
A swift breeze whips my hair into my face and goosebumps race across my skin. I shiver. I run a hand up and down the length of my bare arm.
“Ooh, I never realized how chilly it gets out here,” I murmur.
And that’s all it takes—Eli is unzipping his hoodie and shrugging out of it.
My defences go up because I know what he’s about to do. “I’m okay,” I protest, stretching out a hand to stop him.
“You’re cold,” Eli says, his voice firm and hard.
“Really. I’m fine,” I insist as he flings the warm fleece around my shoulders like a cape.
Eli nails me to the dock with a hard stare. “Wear the sweatshirt, Jessa.”
Our eyes lock and that whole fireworks-exploding-in-the-air thing happens. Fuck. Why’s it so damn hard to fight my attraction for this miserable human being. And I’m not the only one feeling that primal pull. I swear that’s a faint blush I see on my boss’s cheeks, largely obscured by his scruffy beard.
He attempts to shrug it off like it’s nothing. “I don’t want you getting…getting hypothermia or something and then passing it on to Callie,” he fumbles by way of explanation. He averts his eyes to focus on his kiddie-sized box of fruit punch.
What?! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. God forbid Eli would actually have to admit to giving a fuck about me. I want to argue with his over-protectiveness and his faulty logic (firstly, I won’t get hypothermia from a little bit of cool air and secondly, since when is hypothermia contagious?), but I also just want to wear his damn hoodie. It’s big and soft and still warm from his body heat and his manly fragrance is woven into the fibers.
“You need to dress warm, Jessa,” Callie pipes in, sounding way too much like her grandmother. “You don’t want to get sick.”
“That’s right. You don’t want to get sick.” Eli sticks his straw into the side of his mouth and gives me a goofy
