The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(90)

Steffi eased away without a reply. Upstairs, they heard movement and then the sound of running water. Steffi stared up at the ceiling, ignoring his intent gaze.

“I’m not dropping this topic, Steffi. We can’t ignore what happened earlier today,” he prodded. “We need a definitive diagnosis.”

“We?”

“You and me.” He stared into her gorgeous golden eyes. “I think you know that a part of me always cared for you, even when I was sure I hated you. If this is going to work now, we can’t back away from something because it’s hard or scary. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll face it together. We said ‘different better,’ so don’t run away now.”

She huffed. “I won’t run away, but you can’t push me, either. It’s my health. I need to do things my way and on my schedule.”

For the hundredth time, he considered disclosing his suspicion, but the downside outweighed the upside. He needed evidence, and if he got it, he needed to speak with someone about how to broach it, too.

Alternatively, if he got his hands on the police file and turned out to be wrong, then she’d never have to know what he’d done. God, he hoped that would be the case. But if it confirmed his fears, he’d handle the fallout from going behind her back after getting her the help she needed. She’d resent him at first, but once she got better, she’d thank him.





Chapter Nineteen

The old pipes clanked overhead when Claire drained the tub, causing Steffi and Ryan to look upward again. She could offer to upgrade the plumbing for the landlord, but the quirks that made each old house unique comforted her. She’d miss the clanging if it stopped.

“I’ll take off so you can talk to Claire.” Ryan kissed her nose. “She needs a friend right now, and I want to make sure that Emmy understands her attitude this morning is not acceptable.”

“Let me work it out with Emmy on my own.” A scolding from Ryan wouldn’t build trust between Emmy and her. “I’ll get her to help me sand the walls tomorrow. She’ll open up.”

“I won’t make a big deal, but she needs to learn that she can’t manipulate me that way.” He shook his head. “She learned that behavior from watching her mother. I’ve got to nip it in the bud.”

“Fair enough.”

Ryan walked toward the door. “Let’s grab dinner this week?”

“I’ll be pulling double duty now, finishing your mom’s job and overseeing two others, so I’ll probably work most evenings.” She grimaced, then smiled as an idea formed. “If you help me demo the Weber cottage, we can order beer and pizza.”

“I’ll take out my frustrations on an unsuspecting wall,” he mumbled.

She rested her hands on her hips. “What frustrations?”

Ryan peeked up the stairs when the floorboards creaked. “The lack of privacy, for starters.”

Steffi crossed to him and laid her hands on his chest. “We could always slip away to your boat.”

She sensed hesitation on his part. Despite his speech about trust and going slow, she suspected more was at play. Ever since she’d batted him off her on Friday night, he’d restricted touches and kisses to the barest, briefest interactions. Like he might break her or something.

“I’m a little old to be hiding away like that, although those are good memories, for sure.” He kissed her too briefly again.

“The best.” She tried to grab hold of his shirt, but then they heard Claire’s door open.

When her feet hit the top of the stairs, she called out, “I’m coming down.”

“Thanks for the warning!” Steffi joked, “Give us a sec to throw our clothes back on.”

Ryan waited to say goodbye to Claire before he left. Once he’d closed the door, Claire said, “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have interrupted, but I’m really hungry.”

She started toward the kitchen. Claire had always been a stress eater. Given her current mood, she might devour everything in the kitchen.

“It’s okay.” Steffi followed her. “My day was sort of a bust . . . but we got back on track at the end.”

“Why was it a bust?” Claire opened the refrigerator and scanned its contents, opting for leftover mushroom quiche. “I thought you went to Oktoberfest.”

“Emmy was in a petulant mood after spending yesterday with her mother. She still has her heart set on her parents reuniting, so now I’m an enemy. On top of that, I had one of my episodes and lost track of her for a bit.”

Claire popped a slice into the microwave and then glanced at Steffi, eyes wide. “You didn’t!”

“I did.” She grimaced.

Claire folded her arms across her chest. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Steffi leaned against the counter. “Ryan found her within a few minutes.”

“How scary.”

“He was pissed at first. I’m worried he might lose patience with my problem, though, especially if his daughter could get hurt.”

“He seemed okay just now.” The microwave dinged, so Claire withdrew the quiche and took a giant forkful.

“That’s because he thinks there’s an explanation with a cure. But what if second opinions confirm that this will get worse or more frequent, like with those NFL players? Honestly, if that’s the prognosis, I don’t want whatever good time I have left to be ruined with worry about it getting worse. I’d rather cope day to day without knowing.” There. She’d admitted her deepest fear to Claire. Maybe it wasn’t brave or logical, but it was real. Now if she could just say all that to Ryan without scaring him away. “And if I learn it will get worse, how selfish would it be to ask Ryan to stick by me?”