The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(60)

He let his thumb linger at her jaw, his eyes tender and raw. Her heart pumped twice as fast, and not because her limbs needed blood to warm up. She felt words gathering—disjointed thoughts and yearnings he should hear. She’d never been good with words. If the girls hadn’t been on deck, Steffi might have kissed him right then. For now, she’d settle for standing so close that their stomachs were practically touching, and holding his gaze.

“Dad, can I steer the boat next?” Emmy tugged on Ryan’s swimsuit, ruining the electric moment.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Sure, I’ll teach you and Lisa how to use the tiller.”

“Yay. I’ll go get the cookies now.” Emmy trotted off without waiting for his permission.

Steffi supposed he, too, knew when to admit defeat.

“I think I’ll get out of this wet suit and put my clothes on.” She reluctantly broke free from his grip and went to the cabin. The look in his eyes suggested he wanted to follow her below deck and help her out of her suit. Progress, she thought. She could build on this.

Hours later, they pulled back into the marina. While everyone pitched in to tie down the boat and cover the sails—relishing their salt-crusted hair and wind-burned cheeks—Steffi wondered why Val had given up on Ryan and Emmy. There couldn’t be a better way to while away time than with this little family, nor a better man to love.

Surely, Val would see her mistake, just as Steffi had, and come running back. If she did so soon, would Ryan take her back? If not for his own sake, then for Emmy’s? From what Steffi had seen, he might do just about anything to make his daughter happy. He also wouldn’t be the first person to keep a marriage together for the sake of a child.

Karma might enjoy Steffi getting her heart broken by him this time around.

That thought infringed on her good mood as they all walked along the marina’s splintered wood dock, loaded down with the empty cooler, picnic basket, and bag of mostly unused towels.

When they reached the parking lot, the girls skipped ahead to the car. Ryan popped the trunk, and she helped him pack it up.

“Girls, wait in the back seat while I walk Steffi to her car.” He gestured with his head toward her van.

“You don’t need to walk me. We can see the van from here.” She took a few steps, but he followed anyway.

“Are you okay?” He kept his gaze on the ground about four feet ahead of them as he matched her stride.

“Better than okay. Awesome day.” Or it had been until doubts about Val clouded everything. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Your mood nose-dived at the slip.” He stopped at her van.

She could lie, but having him trust her—to look at her that way again—kept her honest. “I was thinking about things, that’s all.”

“Things to do with me?”

She inhaled and momentarily held her breath. “Let’s not spoil the fantastic day with an awkward conversation.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” She twisted her arms together in front of her body. “I started thinking about Val.”

“Val?” He reeled backward as if she’d struck him.

Steffi dragged her hands through her hair. “I had such a great day, but I couldn’t help wondering how she walked away from you two. I’m sure she’ll regret it and come back.”

He shook his head. “No, she won’t.”

“I did.” Steffi should have been mortified by the confession. She just handed him a perfect opportunity to smugly take her down a peg. Instead, she found herself staring into his eyes, seeking reassurance.

He blinked, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. His eyes glowed with something that resembled satisfaction, but then he shoved his hands under his armpits. “She won’t be back. We both left that marriage, in one way or another. I don’t miss her and she doesn’t miss me. My only regret is that Emmy’s paying the price for our mistakes.”

Steffi sighed, partly relieved, but still uncertain that Ryan, if faced with the option to rebuild his family, would walk away from Val. “I’m sorry. For all of you.”

“Don’t waste your time feeling sorry for me, Steffi. Better days are ahead for everyone.” He opened her door and waved her into the driver’s seat, smiling. “Now go shower. You smell like fish bait.”



“It looks like the cookies were a hit.” Ryan’s mom removed the near-empty Tupperware from the picnic basket while interrogating Emmy about the day. “You must’ve worked up an appetite swimming.”

“We didn’t swim.” Emmy climbed onto a kitchen stool at the breakfast bar and rested her chin on her fists. “They just tasted so good!”

“No one swam?” His mom’s jaw slackened in surprise as she glanced at Ryan.

“Miss Steffi swam,” Emmy laughed. “She was freezing.”

“She might’ve been cold, but she wasn’t afraid, was she?” Ryan squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I think we missed out on some fun by not joining her.”

Emmy shot her grandmother one of her infamous “He’s not fooling me” looks. “It didn’t look like fun to me.”

“At least admit that she didn’t get attacked by any fish, sharks, or jellyfish. Next time we sail, I want you to get in the water.” The image of Steffi climbing onto the boat—her body glistening in the sunlight—flashed for the fourth or fifth time that afternoon. If the girls hadn’t been there . . .