Rise - Part One (Rise #1)(14)

"I held onto that boat for hours I think." His eyes dart around the room, finally focusing on a framed picture of a man with two teenage boys. It is obvious one is Landon when he was younger. The other bears a resemblance to him. It has to be his brother.

"They took me to the hospital. My brother and mother came. It was the worst day of my life."

I reach forward to cover his hand with mine. His head shifts slightly as he scoops my hand in his, weaving his fingers between my own.

"I can't imagine losing my dad." I cringe as I hear the words leave my lips. They sound much more insensitive than I mean for them to. My father is essentially the person I rely on most in the world and the thought of waking up one day, without him, is terrifying to me.

"I hope you won't experience it for years, Tess." He pulls our hands to his face, sweeping his lips over my palm. "It's hell. Everything changed after that day."





Chapter 11


"Lunch was delicious." I turn to where he's standing next to me on the crowded street. It's mid-afternoon in Manhattan and that means that finding a quiet spot to thank him properly for not only the delicious salad, but the meaningful conversation, is impossible.

"I told you I could cook even if it was just a salad." He reaches forward to tenderly push a piece of my hair that had fallen onto my cheek behind my ear. "It's windy today."

"It is," I say quietly. I don't want to turn and walk into the building that houses my office without saying something about the trust that I know he placed in me when he told me about his dad.

After we'd finished our lunch in silence, he'd cleared our plates and then he excused himself to make a phone call. I'd stood and walked around the living room. As I did I studied all the pictures he had on display. I know that his father was an instrumental part of his life before he drowned.

There were images of a young Landon dressed in a football uniform with his father's arm proudly draped over his shoulder. There was a small photograph hung on the wall of Landon's brother holding a birthday cake, the candles ablaze as his family watched.

I'd scanned each picture carefully, soaking in the small details of his father's appearance. He was rugged and handsome. A slight beard covered his jaw too, his hair was longer than Landon's is now and a pendant, in the shape of a circle hung around his neck in each image. He was the epitome of what you'd expect any father would be. Strong, virile and happy.

I realized quickly that there weren't any pictures of Landon's brother or mother recently. Each picture that was on display captured a moment set in time many years ago.

"I'm sorry about all the questions." His eyes dart to the left to where a group of schoolchildren are approaching. "Your relationship with Ansel isn't my business. You're right."

I feel an instant pang of regret for spitting those words out at him. "You were curious. I understand that. I'm sorry if I offended you but there's nothing left between me and him. That marriage proposal was a last attempt on his part but he knows, just as well as I do, that we're done for good."

Another gust of unexpected wind brings his fingers back to my face. He cups both of my cheeks in his hands, pushing aside the wayward pieces of my long hair that are blowing in the breeze. "I'd like to see you again. Can I cook you dinner? Or we can go to a restaurant if you'd be more comfortable."

He has the soul of a gentleman wrapped in a body made to f*ck a woman senseless. If there's anything wrong with him, it's definitely not apparent to me yet. He can't be perfect. I know that, but he might be as close to ideal as anyone I've ever met. "I'd like to have dinner."

"I'm leaving tonight for four days." He glances down at my watch. "I'll call you once I'm back in New York."

I feel bereft at the thought of him getting on an airplane and jetting off to some faraway place. After what we shared today, I feel bound to him in a way that isn't about my body's desire to be with him intimately. It's more about a deeper connection. I can't tell him that. I need to play the part of the sophisticated woman who doesn't pine for any man. "I hope it's a safe trip."

"You stay safe while I'm gone." He leans forward, his lips part and on that busy street, he leans down and kisses me softly.

***

As much as I despise certain facets of the Internet, it provides a wealth of information that just can't be found anywhere else. After Landon kissed me goodbye and turned to walk down the street, I stopped in at the café that is housed in the same building as my office. I bought an iced coffee, and now an hour later as I finally take the last sip, I shift my gaze from my laptop's screen to my smartphone.

My father has called me twice today to check in and both times, taking the call wasn't a possibility. The first time was when Landon and I were getting out of the cab on the street in front of his building. We had both stopped at the first sound of my phone's chime but I didn't move to answer it. He ignored it as well.

The second call came less than five minutes ago. I was reading one of many archived news articles written about that summer day more than a decade ago in the water off Martha's Vineyard.

Landon's father, Frederick, had rented a cabin along the shores of one of the many tourist hot spots for a family vacation. He'd taken his son out fishing late in the afternoon, and within hours, the beach was swarming with rescue personnel.