Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(34)

“If someone was in my office, do you think they were in here too? What if they went through my things? Who had access?”

“We were all in here, Brie,” Spencer finishes. “We had to come in before you got home to put the security stuff in place.”

“Do you think whoever tossed my office was too?”

“It’s possible, but if anyone else found that ring, they’d probably take it, not put it in your kitchen,” Spencer says before turning to Emmett. “What do you think?”

Emmett shrugs. “It’s definitely not impossible. Considering nothing was destroyed here, I doubt it. If she’s with some guy, he may have a key and was here before we showed up. He couldn’t have gotten in after because we changed the locks and there’s been surveillance. But why go through all the trouble of coming over here and getting the ring, only to hide it in a drawer? Why wouldn’t the person take it when they left? If the ring was in her office, then he wouldn’t come here. Honestly, it would help if we knew when her memory was.”

“Considering we have no idea who she’s engaged to or when he proposed, it’s impossible to nail down,” Spencer adds.

They continue to volley different scenarios, and I tune them out.

My head is spinning. Why would my would-be fiancé hide the ring? Did he not want me to know about him? It would make sense because no one can tell me anything. So, if he heard about my condition, then he knows I don’t remember him. Since I wasn’t wearing it, that suggests either I didn’t say yes or maybe we decided to wait to tell people. Both options make sense.

God, all of this is so confusing.

“Brie?”

“Yeah?” I turn to Addy.

“Did you hear us?”

“I stopped listening,” I confess.

Emmett chuckles. “You’re the same as ever. A brat.”

I stick my tongue out.

“Anyway,” Addison says, “I don’t know anything, but Spencer, maybe you can track down where the ring was purchased. You’ll have to keep Brielle out of it if you do find it. Sorry, Brie.”

I shrug. At this point, I didn’t have any hopes they would tell me anyway. “I mean, it’s great that you might have some connection to a guy I may or may not be engaged to who might also know what happened to my brother and me. What girl doesn’t want to think she was engaged to someone who killed her brother and tried to kill her. It’s like, the best fantasy ever.”

Spencer nudges me. “Relax, it could be nothing, but we’re going to make sure. Right now, there isn’t any reason to think the two events are related.”

“Yup.”

There is a long, almost uncomfortable stretch of time before he asks, “Are you still up for today? If so, I figured we’d take a ride.”

“I had plans to wallow, but sure. We’ll go, and I’ll continue to remember nothing. It’ll be fun.”

Spencer doesn’t give me the reaction I was pushing for. Instead, his smile is bright. “Good.”

I sigh and walk over to Addy. “I’ll be there in the morning to say goodbye.”

“I’ll make sure I don’t leave until then.”

We give each other a hug, and Emmett and Addison leave. I grab my purse and walk toward the door. “You ready?”

“To spend the day with you? Absolutely.”

Glad someone is.

We ride out to the beach, which is strange because I don’t remember this being significant in my life. Instead of walking down onto the sand, we move to stand in front of his car and watch the waves. “Why are we here?”

He shrugs. “You liked the beach when we were kids.”

I laugh. “I liked when you, Emmett, and Holden would take your shirts off. That’s what I liked.”

Spencer’s hands move to the hem of his shirt, and before I can say anything, it’s off and tossed through his open window. “There. What about now?”

Focusing on his face is a lost cause. There’s no way I can stand here and not take in the man before me. He’s tall, blocking out the sun behind him, and my eyes travel from his beautiful face to his magnificent chest. The deep lines etched across his perfect skin provide a map down to his stomach where six boxes of hardness lie. Spencer has aged so freaking well. My fingertips itch to touch him and outline every rise and fall on his lean, hard body.

Oh, how much I want that. I always have.

I may have told him it was all of them, but I only ever saw him.

I would sit on the blanket, my lower lip between my teeth as I stared.

I clear my throat, pushing away the desire pooling in my core. “Just like old times,” I say, hoping I sounded indifferent.

From the grin that forms, I failed. “Good. So, let’s head down there and talk.”

Spencer reaches back into the window, and I silently mutter a prayer.

Please put your shirt back on.

He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs his stupid notebook and a bag.

“What’s in there?”

“Food,” he responds and starts to walk down toward the water.

I can do this. I can spend time with Spencer—half naked—and not ogle him. It will be a piece of cake.

With my spine straight and my mindset, I head to where he’s spreading out a blanket. He motions for me to sit, and I do, tucking my legs under me.