August Unknown (16 page)

The Mirthful Mermaid had a different feel after hours. Quiet
and dark, August breathed deeply of its aged, salty smell. She was grateful for
something familiar. The restaurant was cozy, comfortable, and emitted the
powerful essence of family.

After rummaging around in the kitchen, Millie emerged with
three plates, each with a gigantic slice of chocolate cake. She sat beside
August.

“Where’s my grandson?”

“In the restroom, washing up,” August said, taking a bite of
the most delicious cake ever baked. “Mmmm. You weren’t lying.”

“That was nice, seeing you two dancing together tonight,”
Millie said in a reserved voice. “You two look good together.”

“I like him,” August said, certain his grandmother’s statement
was leading somewhere.

“Do ya, now?”

“A lot.”

“I don’t want to see him hurt again.”

Again
. She wished she knew what had happened, so she
could do something to make it better. Or at least make sure it never happened
again. The idea of sweet Geoffrey in pain made her heart ache.

“I don’t want to hurt him. Believe me when I say that.” It
would kill her to be the person to do it.

Millie patted August’s hand. “I know.” She took a bite of cake
and chewed, deep in thought for a long moment. “It’s going to happen, though.
You’re going to find out you’ve got another life somewhere, and then you’ll go
back to it.”

August set down her fork. “I’m not so sure of that.”

The older woman’s eyebrows rose, but she remained silent.

“Someone went pretty far to get their point across. I’m not
wanted there.”

“That doesn’t mean your whole life was people who hated you.”

“I’d like to think that if someone did do this to me on
purpose, it was just one person. But if I did have a good life otherwise,
wouldn’t I be yearning for it? Honestly, Gran Millie, I don’t feel it in here.”
She placed her hand over her heart. “One thing I know, I’ve never met anyone
like Geoffrey. And I’m sure my family wasn’t like yours. It will be terrible if
I never remember, but staying here wouldn’t be so bad at all.”

“Do you say that because of what you think you didn’t have
before, or because of what you’ve found here?”

Before she could answer, Geoffrey emerged from the restroom
and crossed the empty dining room. “What have you two lovely ladies been
talking about?”

“Girl stuff.” Gran Millie took a bite of cake and winked at
August.

He glanced from one to the other. “Why does that make me
nervous?”

* * *

Geoffrey hadn’t paid much attention to the dark-haired woman
sitting alone at an unoccupied table in the back of the ballroom. But when a
lone pair of headlights flashed on and the car began following them away from
the Mirthful Mermaid, his wariness bristled.

He’d first noticed her when he took the podium. She’d caught
his attention when she slipped into the ballroom and took a seat at an empty
table in the back, looking like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. She’d glanced
around the room like a party-crasher waiting to get caught. Dressed in faded jeans
and an even older-looking denim jacket, she certainly hadn’t come prepared for
the banquet.

“You have a wonderful life,” August said quietly. She’d been
so silent, with her head leaned back against the seat, that he thought she
might have fallen asleep.

“I do?” He glanced over. Her blue eyes were pale in the dim
light seeping into the SUV’s cabin.

“Take it from someone who doesn’t know anything about her own.
I can only hope to find myself with such a great life. You have a loving
family, a good job, a beautiful home. You’re well educated, respected by your
community, lots of friends. These are good things. For all we know about me, I
could have spent the last five years in jail.”

He laughed. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Why? It might very well be true.”

“You would have more tattoos.”

“I don’t have any tattoos!”

“There you go.”

She settled back into the seat, smiling. “It was nice tonight.
It felt good. Dancing with you felt good.”

Geoffrey swallowed back a mouthful of regret. It almost seemed
wrong that dancing with her had been so nice, when the single memory he had of
dancing with his late wife, at their wedding, had been unpleasant. Christina
had been half sloshed at the time, and had snapped at him when he suggested she
ease up on the champagne. If she couldn’t celebrate at her own wedding, when
could she?

Geoffrey glanced into the rearview mirror, but didn’t mention
the woman from the ballroom. The car maintained a steady distance out onto the lonely
ocean highway. His unease mounted, and Geoffrey bit down on a pang of guilt.
Had taking August with him been a mistake?

“I’m glad I came,” August continued. “The cheesecake was
gross, but your grandmother made up for it. I like her.”

“She likes you, too. Believe me, you’d know if she didn’t.”

Gran Millie hadn’t liked Christina. Even after she’d
eventually warmed up to her, she had always remained slightly intolerant, and slow
to forgive Christina’s many mistakes.

“It was nice getting out tonight. I’m glad I went.”

He turned onto Crestview Drive, watching as moments later the
headlights appeared behind him on their narrow street. The car matched his
slowed speed, following around the turns and bends that led to the house. He
angled into the driveway and parked in his normal spot under the oleander tree.
The car following them slowed as it passed the house. In the dark, he couldn’t
see through its windows.

Of course, there was a sharp curve after their driveway.
Anyone who lived in the neighborhood knew to slow down for it, or risk sliding
into the tall dune on the outer bend. And he knew several of his neighbors,
also volunteers on the project, had attended the awards tonight.

“It was almost like a date,” he said, watching the side mirror
to see if the car made another pass. After he’d said it, he realized what he’d
intimated. “I mean—”

“It
was
like a date,” August agreed.

Only the silvery light of the moon illuminated the SUV. He
found her smiling, as if the idea pleased her. He wondered if she could see the
heat filling his face.

“About this time on a date, I always start to wonder...not
that I go on many dates.”

“Wonder about what?” She gave him a teasing smile, as though
she already knew.

“Whether or not I should give you a good-night kiss.”

Still smiling, she bit her lower lip. She was bashful, too, he
realized. How endearing. A warm feeling swirled in his stomach.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Her question came out in the barest
whisper.

He glanced down at the keys in his hand.
Just say it, idiot.
Yes, I do
.

He met her eyes. Before he could say anything, she leaned over
and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

It was a sweet, soft kiss, hardly more than a brush of lips
really, but it ignited a spark inside him that immediately roared into flames.

She leaned away with a squeak from the leather seat, carefully
adjusting her cast away from the center armrest.

Geoffrey leaned over and kissed her again, more deeply this
time. She tilted her head to receive it, and parted her lips when he grew more
intense. He breathed in lemons, flowers, and sunshine. She met his kiss with
equal ardor, gently responding to the sweep of his tongue across hers.

She caught his lower lip between her teeth.

He groaned low in his chest. “God, August.” He cupped her
face, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

At his age it felt silly, magnificently silly, making out in
the car like a couple of teenagers.

She breathed his name on a soft moan between kisses pecked to
the corners of his mouth. He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his
thumb. When his lips found hers again, their kiss slowed and nearly stopped, so
achingly tender it made his heart seize.

Geoffrey slid his hand across her thigh, leaving soft silk for
even softer skin through the high slit in her dress.

August stiffened. “Geoffrey—”

He drew back. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She slid back into the cup of the leather
seat. “It was my fault. I didn’t realize I was getting so carried away.”

He angled himself to face forward again and gripped the
steering wheel. “You don’t have to worry. That won’t happen again.”

She twisted around, reaching over her cast to place her hand
on his arm. “It was wonderful. You’re wonderful.” She smiled that pathetic,
pitying smile that would soon be followed with a
but
.

“But until I know everything about me, I don’t think we should
take it any further.”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

He mustered his own well-practiced
that’s okay
smile.
“Don’t be.” He reached for the door handle.

“Wait a minute.”

She slid closer and squeezed his arm. “I don’t want to end
tonight like this. Kiss me one more time.”

The tension rushed out of him in a whoosh. He did, gladly,
eagerly, but this time with the reverence of a man about to step onto the
gallows. And likewise, she was tender, gentle and cherishing. This time it was
she who reached over to brush her fingers along his jaw.

If it was just one kiss, it was a very long kiss. She showed
no signs of stopping, and heaven help him, neither would he.

He didn’t know what he’d done to discover this delicate angel,
but it must have been something good. He felt like the luckiest man alive, yet
at the same time, doomed to lose. He would be a fool not to recognize exactly
how uncertain his time with her was.

She wasn’t his.

After tonight, letting her go would be even harder than
before, and only yesterday he’d thought it would be impossible.

This time, when she stilled their kiss, it was on a sigh.
“Geoffrey?”

He stopped, reluctant to open his eyes.

“Yes?”

She smiled sheepishly. “I have to pee.”

Chapter Twelve

Colin’s breath plumed in the crisp air as he crunched across
the gravel driveway. He emerged from the shadows of the house into the warm,
orange light of the rising sun.

He used to love the dawn, when he and Emily would launch the
Maraschino
onto a cobalt ocean. The colors usually held their deepest contrast at this
time of day: the sky a deep cornflower blue, the ocean’s surface shining like
polished silver, the boat’s white hull gleaming in the new light. And all of it
pale in comparison to the hue of Emily’s eyes, the light in her smile.

He ached for those days with her, when before he hadn’t
realized how good they felt.

He looked up in surprise at an approaching figure. Sonja
crossed the driveway at an angle. He cringed at the sight of her. He hadn’t
even heard her pull up.

“Colin. We need to talk.”

He opened the door to his battered Jeep and tossed his duffel
bag to the passenger side. “Not now. I need to get on the road.”

“When are you coming back?”

He glanced over the marshes to the water. Pristine white
seabirds circled a fishing boat returning early, trailing for fish scraps the
fishermen tossed over as they cleaned their catch. Today, the morning held the
promise of that renewed beauty he hadn’t known in so long. He had his first
lead on Emily.

But Sonja, and her needy persistence, threatened to destroy
that.

“Where are you going?” she added to the unanswered question.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face pale, as though she’d been up all night
crying.

“Chelsie found a lead on a Jane Doe in a coma in a Seattle
hospital. She has blond hair.”

“It isn’t Emily. Colin, dammit!” He turned away but she
grabbed his arm. “Emily is dead. When are you going to accept that?”

He leaned towards her and shouted his answer. “When I see a
body!”

Sonja pushed the door shut and stepped between him and the
Jeep. “Emily is gone. I’m here. Colin, I’m five months along. You need to do
right by this baby.”

He blasted an angry sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face.
God, how was he going to explain this to his father?

Her voice grew softer and this time when she placed her hand
on his arm, she was gentler. “Can’t you see that I love you?”

He shook his head and fought the urge to shrink out of her
grasp. “You don’t—you’re just scared and you want to provide for your baby. I
understand that, Sonja—”

“You love me, too, Colin. I know it. I could feel it when you
touched me.”

“No. Jesus, I was drunk that night. You said, ‘Do you want to
have some fun?’ Christ, that’s all it was. I wish I’d never done it.”

Her hand formed a fist at the collar of his coat. “How can you
say that? We made love. We made a baby!”

He pried her fingers away. “I love Emily. She’s alive—I know
it. I’m going to find her.”

He slipped into the Jeep and pulled the door shut. She stayed
where she was in the driveway as he pulled away, making him feel like an
A-number one dirt-bag.

Jesus, how he wished he’d never messed around with Sonja. The
girl was out of her mind, plain and simple. She knew he’d never leave Emily,
yet she’d tried to lure him away anyhow. What an idiot he’d been. Why hadn’t he
valued Emily as she deserved? Was he being punished? In all those years she’d
refused to set a wedding date, he’d still considered himself a free man, and
he’d strayed.

More than once, he’d strayed.

But it had always been Emily he’d gone back to, always Emily
he knew he’d spend his life with. She owned his heart. Why hadn’t he let the
head with the brain do his thinking for him? God. A baby on the way.

He refused to believe Emily was dead. There was a piece of his
heart that was connected with her, that continued to glow with her life force.
When Chelsie told him about the young woman in a coma in Seattle, he had known
in an instant it was Emily. She was alive, but unable to contact him. It made
perfect sense.