“It’s fine. In fact, why not ask Sally to join you? It’ll make the conversation easier for Jackie, having her mother there.”
“I’m sure it will.” Hesitating, Griffin chose his next words carefully. “There is one thing. Before you get too far out on a limb with conjecture, I want you to keep Occam’s razor in mind.”
“What’s that?”
“The simplest explanation is more likely the right one. Which is . . . ?”
With visible relief, she blew out a breath. “My daughter slipped and fell.”
“Right. No one pushed her.”
“What about Quinn’s version of the events? He’s not making it up.”
“I’m sure he’s telling the truth,” Griffin agreed, his tone soothing. He was calling into play all his verbal powers of persuasion to calm Rae, because he couldn’t embrace her. He couldn’t offer physical comfort. “Rae, here’s what I believe happened. Lark and one of the girls were arguing about something.”
“About you,” she cut in, faintly chagrined and insistent, all in the same moment.
“Sure, that’s possible. But it could’ve been something else. A remark one of them made at school that embarrassed the other. A boy they both had a crush on. Whatever it was, Quinn overheard the debate. Then the other girl went back into the house. Perhaps Lark was about to follow her inside and slipped. Or she began pacing—”
“And then slipped.” Rae covered her face with her hands.
She looked broken.
Pain lanced Griffin, sure and swift. “Either way, there was nothing sinister at play.”
“It was an accident.”
“That never should’ve happened. Rae, I’m so sorry that it did.”
He rested his hand on her curved spine. But only for a moment. Touching her brought a different sort of distress.
Sexual longing is a form of muscle memory. Their bodies, he mused, were automatically primed from years earlier. All those breathless hours of foreplay. If he had any sense, he’d get off the couch. Finish the conversation at a sensible distance.
She looked at him suddenly. “How is Jackie?”
“Not great. I suppose it’s the same for all the girls.” He frowned. “More importantly, how are you doing?”
“Before tonight, I would’ve said I’m managing. Quinn’s revelation didn’t help.” She regarded him, her eyes lingering for too long. “Grief is hard. It hits you like a hammer. You can’t prepare for those moments. They just come. In one respect, it does get easier. You learn to expect the blows.”
“Do you exercise?”
The practical suggestion cleared her gaze of some of the pain. “Not as much as you do, obviously,” she said lightly. “You look good. Really great. The term ‘beefcake’ comes to mind.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As it was intended.”
Without warning, she lifted affectionate fingers. Slowly she feathered the lightest caresses across his brow. Taking her time as she traced curious fingers across his receding hairline, her attention delving, thorough, as she altered the atmosphere between them.
Her touch pinioned Griffin between agony and bliss.
“Griffin Marks, your worst fear is coming true,” she teased, and her breathing hitched. Touching him was affecting her too.
She meant his biggest worry, their last year of high school. “It is,” he agreed.
The power of her tenderness brought him a fraction closer, and she smiled. “Your hairline is receding. I doubt you’ll believe this, but . . . it looks good on you. You’ve always had a great forehead. Wide, sturdy. With your hair moving out of the way, you look distinguished. You’ll look even more distinguished in your forties.”
“Rae.”
“Hmm?” She was toying with his ears now, her eyes sparking when he shivered.
“Either stop what you’re doing,” he said, his resolve slipping, “or let two play this game.”
“What game?”
Tired of her teasing, he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. Cupping her face, he took his sweet time, his head swimming; when Rae whimpered with need, he brought her fully into his arms. Then he dragged his mouth across her cheek, savoring the taste of her skin, before he kissed her again.
He allowed them both a few minutes of bliss. No more. If they were taking their relationship in a new direction, they weren’t doing so tonight. Not after the disturbing conversation they’d shared. Not while Rae—still in mourning and fearful about the circumstances surrounding Lark’s death—was too fragile to make a life-altering decision.