It’s the second time he’s said my name and the sound of it settles around me like a soft mist. This is what my name is supposed to sound like, exactly as Raiden says it, cutting the harsh G short with a gentle, smooth slide into the rest of the letters.
“No…no coffee, thank you. It’s too late in the day for me and I’d rather get a full night’s rest.”
“That’s okay, honey.” May pulls Raiden into a side hug. “Don’t work this girl so hard, Ray. Get her out of that barn a bit for some Vermont sun, otherwise she’s going to go home pale.”
“That’ll never do.” Raiden smiles. “Don’t worry, Miami sunshine will see her straight in no time once she’s back home.”
I’m not ready to go back home. Every day spent here is a day closer to me heading back to Miami. At the current pace of an ever-stretching silence, there’s no way I’m going to want to be in the same house as my parents after this summer, regardless of how many rooms it has and that I can literally disappear in it without them noticing.
The other men come out of the house, Derek with a sleepy Hannah in his arms. I’m not sure what happened between Derek and Teresa, or what would make a woman separate from her child, but Hannah is loved so deeply, she’ll never feel unwanted in her life. I turn away from Derek and his girl in his arms, letting the unfulfilled longing that still haunts me after all this time drain away.
We bid everyone good night and head towards the driveway that’s hard to see in the dark. The moon and stars are shy behind the clouds and the driveway is uneven, and for a moment, I hesitate on the descent.
“Here,” Raiden says as he reaches for my hand. “Uncle Bill levels this dirt road often enough, but with us here, it sees more wheels than usual.”
His fingers are warm and rough against mine, those of a man who works with his hands. I want to weave mine with his, but this is purely a practical arrangement and I know he’ll let go as soon as we reach the ring of the boathouse’s outside light.
Behind us, car doors close, and Derek says something to Hunter and both men chuckle.
“Still planning on doing the right thing there, Raiden?” Hunter calls from behind us.
Raiden holds my hand firmer. “Only helping a lady down the hill in the dark,” he calls back to Hunter. “Jerk,” he adds under his breath.
“Just keeping an eye on you, brother!” Hunter calls back, but mirth laces his voice.
“I suggest you start looking in another direction,” Raiden grunts, but doesn’t even deign to turn towards Hunter.
His brother’s laughter rings in the air until more doors bang closed and engines start.
I strain against Raiden’s hold, and he lets go. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
Now that I no longer have his hand for support, I slow down. “Nothing?”
“Just Hunter being Hunter. He’s an asshole and you should have nothing to do with him.”
I break out a soft chuckle. Hunter has about as much eye for me as a goldfish before it takes its next turn in its bowl. “So many assholes in the Logan tribe.”
Raiden has slowed down to match my pace. “Yeah, probably. The twins are the Logan flagship. Both of them are saving lives in their own way. Liam keeps it clean becoming a doctor and all, and Ethan is getting foreign dust on his combat boots while the rest of us hold our breath.”
His last words force me to bite down on my lip so hard that the pain stalls everything else. “The worry has to eat at you.”
“Every day.” The gravel crunches under our feet, filling the hollow silence. “First thing I do every morning is to check if there’s bad news, then I think it could take a couple of days to reach us and then—” He breaks off to inhale a deep breath. “Then I take five minutes to worry about Ethan and box it up until the next morning. The worry would otherwise paralyze me, because there isn’t anything I can do to help him.”
That’s intense, and the hole Ethan would leave in Raiden’s life should he die while deployed would never close. I know my life is empty without siblings, but this… Other than my folks and their own disengaged parents, I don’t have family to fret and worry about.
None of them are fretting and worrying about me, that’s been clear.
A worry box. Maybe that’s exactly what I need. Worry about the situation with Mom and Dad for five minutes a day and then box it up until the next day.
We’ve reached the boathouse’s red door and he opens it and waits for me to walk in. I switch on the light as I stroll into the living room and pause. The door closes behind me and I feel him come closer, his presence filling the small space with heat and my whole body with desire.
“May told me about your parents.” I turn to find him standing mere inches from me. “I’m so sorry.”
His gaze pins me down and I drown in his blue eyes. “It’s okay. Everybody loses their parents sooner or later.”
“Still.” I swallow at the knot in my throat and when he doesn’t move, I step up and wrap my arms around his neck in a hesitant embrace. “I’m so sorry.”