“What about?”
“Just a gig. That’s it.”
Sal’s smile is quivery.
He evaluates her close. The soft sadness in her eyes. Dark circles. The hunch of her shoulders. Today’s been hard for her. Too hard.
The thought slams him in the gut. He should have done better by Sal. He should have been there for her, beside her.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “It was too soon for a party. I should’ve known that.”
Her eyes widen. “No, it’s not.” At his doubtful stare, she pins him with a look. “I love it. I do. I love that you did this for me.” She gestures around her. “It’s just ... it’s a lot. Damn depressing, you know?” A droll laugh tinged with a sob escapes her lips. “All these folks telling me happy birthday and I can’t even put a name to the face. I mean, fuck. It’s so fucking hard.”
Her bottom lip pushes out as she fights the urge to cry.
Luke kneels in front of her and cups her cheek. When he grazes a thumb across her cheekbone, Sal closes her eyes at his calloused touch. “Want to get out of here and go have some fun?”
Her eyes pop open. A playful smile curves her lips. “What do you have in mind?”
He hands her his beer. “Hang tight.”
Luke pounds up the steps to the back door and ducks into a small entryway. When he returns, Sal’s standing, smiling, beer clasped to her chest. In his hands, he carries two fishing poles and a bucket of beers and bait.
Luke tosses her a cavalier grin. “C’mon.”
Sal slips her hand in his. “Where are we going?”
“To your happy place.”
Ten minutes later, they’re standing on the dock of the river.
Sal looks around, ambling to the end of the dock. Her green eyes drift to the man-made beach, to the tire swing hanging over the muddy water, to the small shanty where their boat is stored.
Luke baits a hook while Sal strings a broken line. He watches her hands move. Deftly. Expertly.
Luke watches as she casts into the water, impressed. “Like a pro.” He cracks a beer, takes a long sip, then passes it to Sal.
“I outfish you,” she says, smug. “Every damn time.”
Luke eyes her quick. She’s right. A hopeful breath’s held in his chest as he asks, “You remember?”
“Nope.” Sal elbows him in the side and tosses him a flirty smile. “I just know, country boy.”
Luke laughs.
They sit side by side at the end of the dock, sharing a beer, dipping their toes into the water. Sal tans her long, taut legs. Her hair rustles with the light afternoon wind. She’s gorgeous in a white tank and cut-off shorts. She’s put on weight in the last couple of weeks and looks healthy as hell.
Luke has to drag his eyes away from her before his mind runs away from him. The way he wants her should be criminal.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” Sal murmurs. “I can’t believe this was mine.”
“Is. Is yours, Sal.”
Her smile falters, as does Luke’s heart.
“This entire day I’ve been thinking I’d conjure memories from what? From thin air? From the faces of people I don’t even recognize? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep feeling like everyone’s in on a secret I don’t know about, and that secret’s my life.”
Luke’s stomach bottoms out at the words. The dejection in her voice. He hates what this is doing to her. Hates that he’s the one keeping the past that she’s trying so damn hard to remember.