“Before,” Ethan said, nudging Ashlyn from her thoughts. “When you said I was quiet. You were a little bit right. It was weird today. All those years, hearing bits and pieces from my parents about this woman I’d never met, and then there I was this afternoon, sitting on her porch, listening to her talk about them. I think my dad would be glad we met, in spite of their falling-out.”
“It’s a shame they couldn’t have patched things up before he died, but I can see why she was so upset with him. His motives in arranging the lunch might have been pure, but for Marian, it felt like another betrayal, and by the only member of her family she thought she could trust.”
“I don’t know what happened or why, but I know my father, and he would never have done anything to purposely betray her. He obviously thought she and Hemi had things they needed to talk out.”
Ashlyn considered this. She’d never met Richard Hillard, but she’d heard enough to take Ethan’s word about his father’s motives. Marian had mentioned several times that Hemi had been a repeated point of contention between them, that he kept pushing him at her. What she hadn’t said was why. Was it possible that Dickey had known the true circumstance surrounding Hemi and Belle’s separation? It might explain why he was so determined to reunite them. But why would Marian remain so adamant?
“Did you notice anything odd today while Marian was talking? Anything that felt a little . . . off?”
“Off?”
“I can’t put my finger on it, but there were times when she seemed almost defensive. I’d ask her something and she’d change the subject or deflect with a question of her own. It was like there was some line she refused to cross, and any time we got close to it, she shut down.”
“I’m not sure I’d call it odd. We’re talking about some pretty tough memories. Not to mention being interrogated by two people she didn’t know from Adam. I’d probably act weird too. Frankly, I’m surprised she shared what she did.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
She still wasn’t convinced, but it had been a long day and there was a lot to digest. She relaxed against the headrest, sinking into the leather seat. She wished she hadn’t left her car at Ethan’s. She dreaded having to drive home.
“We’ve still got an hour,” Ethan said, as if reading her thoughts. “Why don’t you close your eyes? I’ll wake you when we get home.”
“The fog’s getting worse. I should stay awake. In case you need a second set of eyes.”
“I’m good. Get some sleep.”
Ashlyn had no idea how long she’d been out when the muffled crunch of tires on gravel woke her. She sat up, blinking at the windshield and the wall of fog shredding in the headlights’ twin beams.
“Wow.” She turned her neck to the left, then the right, working out a kink. “Sorry I passed out on you.”
“No worries. We’re almost home.”
She squinted at the windshield as he rounded a curve, still trying to get her bearings. She couldn’t make out anything through the fog. “I hate driving in stuff like this. I always feel like I’m about to go over a cliff. Please tell me you can see where you’re going?”
“We’re only a few minutes from the house. I could drive this road blindfolded.”
Ashlyn let out a groan. “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
“You can stay, you know.”
Ashlyn’s head came around more sharply than she’d intended. “What?”
“You don’t have to drive home tonight. You can stay at my place.”
“Oh. No. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
By the time they pulled into the driveway, Ashlyn had retrieved her tote and was reaching for the door handle, ready to make a hasty exit from the car. “Thanks for driving. It was a good day.”
Ethan shut off the car and looked over at her. “Seriously. Stay.”
“I’m good. Really. It’s twenty minutes, tops.”
“I don’t think you should drive. It’s late and you’re tired. To quote Aunt Marian, I’d be very put out if you ended up in a ditch.”
Ashlyn smiled in spite of herself. “I promise to steer clear of all ditches.” She slid out of the car then and out into the fog, dragging her tote up onto her shoulder. “Oh, I almost forgot the wine.”
She was still fumbling to extract the bottle of Sancerre from the tote when Ethan came around the car to stand in front of her. “Stay.” His voice was thick, oddly muffled against the fog’s insular quiet. “Not with me. That’s not what I’m asking. I’d just like you to be here when I wake up in the morning, under the same roof. Does that sound strange?”
Ashlyn shook her head. It sounded lovely, actually. “No, it doesn’t sound strange. Just . . . faintly terrifying.”
There was a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “I can offer you your choice of five bedrooms, two of which overlook the harbor, and all of which have doors that lock. I can’t offer you a monogrammed bathrobe, but I’m fairly sure I can scare up an old T-shirt for you to sleep in. There’s also a nice continental breakfast, if that influences your decision.”
“I’m not worried about door locks, Ethan. It isn’t about not trusting you.”
“Then what is it about?”
She closed her eyes, willing the question away. It was the conversation she’d been avoiding, the truth she’d been skirting for weeks. “Trusting me, I guess.”
“To sleep in my guest room?”
It sounded ridiculous when he put it that way. As if she were worried she might not be able to control herself with him in the next room. But she’d been on this particular precipice before, and to say it had ended badly would be the understatement of the century. She had leapt too soon, fallen too hard, and left herself open to all that came after. She couldn’t risk making that mistake again. There’d be no coming back if she did. She’d built a life for herself after Daniel’s death. Small. Careful. Safe. It should be enough.
“Ethan . . .”
“Stay,” he said again, softer this time but more insistent somehow. “I get that you’re scared. I don’t know why, but I get it. You don’t owe me your story—you don’t owe me anything—but I’m a pretty good listener if you’re in the mood to share. Or we can just curl up on the couch and watch movies all night and you don’t have to tell me anything. Just stay. No strings.”
“Won’t that just confuse things?”
“Confuse things?” Ethan repeated, as if the question were utterly ridiculous. “Ashlyn, from the moment I met you, I’ve been confused about everything. This is the first thing I haven’t been confused about. When Marian asked about us today, you froze. You didn’t know how to answer. But I did. I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I wanted to say, Yes, Marian, we’re an item. And then she reminded me that it was the books that brought us together. Well, the mystery is solved and we no longer have the books, and I’m afraid if I let you leave tonight, that’ll be it. You won’t have a reason to see me again.”