Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(93)

Alex laughed quietly. “I can keep up,” he assured her, and took her to bed.

Alex awakened in a wash of morning light. He lay still, relishing the feeling of waking up in Zoë’s bed, his head half buried in lavender-scented pillows. His arm swept across the white sheets, reaching for her, but all his hand encountered was empty space.

“Zoë’s in the kitchen,” he heard Tom say.

Opening his eyes, Alex did a double take as he saw that Tom wasn’t alone. A slender young woman stood beside him, their hands clasped. Her blond hair was arranged in smooth curls and parted on the side. She had a lovely, slightly angular face, her eyes bright with intelligence.

Alex sat up slowly, keeping the sheet pulled up to his waist. “Good morning,” he said, dazed.

She gave him a familiar smile of mischief. It was more than a little disconcerting to see Emma’s smile in this drastically younger version of herself. “Good morning, Alex.”

His wondering gaze slid over the two of them. The air was luminous with happiness, emotion translated to light. Tom had lost the ever-present shadow of loneliness, his dark eyes snapping with joyful vitality.

“Everything’s okay, then,” Alex said, giving them both a questioning glance.

“Glorious,” Emma said. “Everything is the way it should be.”

Tom’s gaze lingered on Emma before returning to Alex. “We came to say good-bye,” he said. “We’ve got places to go.”

“Do you?” It hit Alex that the ghost was finally leaving him. They were both free. What Alex had never expected was that he would feel so forlorn at the prospect. “I’ve never been so damn glad to get rid of anyone,” he managed to say.

Tom grinned. “I’ll miss you, too.”

There were things Alex needed to say … I will never forget you and your obnoxious singing and smartass comments, and the way you saved my life. You became the friend I didn’t even know I needed. And you made me realize that the worst thing isn’t dying, but dying without ever having loved someone. However, it didn’t seem that they would have the time or opportunity to talk. And he saw from Tom’s gaze that he understood all of that, and more.

“Will I see you again?” Alex asked simply.

“Yeah,” Tom said, “but not for a while. You and Zoë have a long life ahead of you. And a big family to start on—two boys and a girl. And one of them is going to grow up to be—”

Emma interrupted hastily. “Alex, pretend you didn’t hear any of that.” Turning to Tom, she clicked her tongue reprovingly. “Still a troublemaker. You know you weren’t supposed to tell him anything.”

“It’s your job to keep me in line,” Tom told her.

“I’m not sure anyone could manage that,” she retorted. “You’re a tough case.”

Tom lowered his head to hers until their foreheads touched. “Not for you,” he murmured.

They were silent for a moment, their pleasure in each other’s company almost palpable.

“Let’s get going,” Tom murmured. “We’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

“About sixty-seven years,” she told him.

He smiled into her eyes. “We’d better get started, then.” Sliding an arm around Emma’s shoulders, he guided her to the doorway. Stopping at the threshold, they turned to look back at Alex.

He saw them through a sudden blur. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak. “Thanks. For everything.”

The other man smiled in understanding. “You and I both got it wrong, Alex: love does last. In fact … it’s the only thing that does.”

“Take care of Zoë,” Emma told him gently.

“I’ll make her happy,” Alex said in a gravelly voice. “I swear it.”

“I know you will.” She held his gaze for a long, affectionate moment. “Work on that foxtrot,” she eventually said, and gave him a wink.

The next moment, they were gone.

Putting on his jeans, Alex went barefoot to the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was brewing. But Zoë wasn’t there.

Seeing that the door to Emma’s room was ajar, he realized she had gone to check on her grandmother. He found Zoë sitting on the edge of the bed with her head bent. Although he couldn’t see her face, he could hardly miss the glitter of tears falling into her lap.

“Alex—” she said in a suffocated voice. “My grandmother—”

“I know, sweetheart.” He held out his arms, and she went to him at once. He wrapped her in his arms and murmured against her hair, telling her that he loved her, he would always be there for her. She buried her face against him and breathed in shuddering sighs, until her tears finally slowed.

After a while, Alex eased Zoë from the bedroom and closed the door. “She’s happy now,” he said, keeping an arm around her. “She wanted me to tell you that.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking bewildered.

“Very sure,” he replied firmly. “She’s with Tom.”

Zoë pondered that for a moment. “I don’t know anything about Tom.” She wiped a last smudge of moisture from her cheek. “I don’t know if I like the idea of her going off with a man I don’t know.”