Page 29 of Ebbing Tides (The Lighthouse Duology #2)

But my point was, my father’s slow dance with death was the first I’d ever experienced.

And, God, I had hated him with a terrible ferocity at different points in my life.

Better men would’ve walked away and never turned back.

But my desperation for his approval and pride had led me here, and now …

no, I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want to watch him suffer as cancer ate away at his body at an excruciating pace.

And although it was a much slower demise than any other I’d witnessed in my life, it was in ways more horrible, as I sat by on the sidelines and held his hand—metaphorically—as it happened.

In ways, I was leading him to it when my heart, my nature, longed to wrench him back.

Maybe then we could start over.

“I’m terrified of the day my parents die,” Melanie said quietly before opening the door for her boys to climb into her SUV.

“But I have a great relationship with them. My mom … she’s like my best friend.

I don’t even know what I would do if it wasn’t for her.

Things with my dad are a little more complicated.

He never understood what drew me to Luke or why I decided to marry him or have his kids when he was incarcerated.

But he didn’t need to understand to support me.

He just did. It’s going to kill me to lose them one day, and I think half the time, I live in a place of denial, like if I don’t acknowledge it, it won’t happen.

But … to not have a good relationship with them, wishing that I did and knowing they were dying …

I don’t even know how you deal with that. ”

A humorless, forced chuckle tore through my throat as I nodded. “I don’t either.”

She leaned against the car door and furrowed her brow. “What was he talking about? When he said you’re not the only one who can’t tell the truth? Something along those lines.”

I shrugged, brushing it off. “Oh, that was probably nothing. He was already high on painkillers at that point. He didn’t know what he was saying.”

“Hmm,” she muttered, nodding softly, but not looking at all convinced.

She buckled the boys in and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips before climbing behind the wheel. Then, with a strange longing to remain frozen to the spot to watch as she drove away, I retreated to my truck reluctantly, getting in behind Lido.

We drove behind Melanie all the way to the cemetery, and something about knowing she was right there with her incredible kids—a whole carload of people I was growing to care a great deal about—flooded my chest with comforting warmth.

I recalled times when I’d felt similarly with Laura and her girls.

In the beginning of our rekindled relationship, during the short time we’d been married …

I would watch the three of them as a feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on swept over me like a tidal wave, over and over, until the tumultuous storm in my heart was calmed.

That was how I felt for Melanie. It was how I felt for her boys. It seemed too fast, too soon, to put wild labels on it all, but at forty-eight, when I likely had more time behind me than ahead of me, was there really such a thing as too fast?

I pulled in front of my office and got out to watch Melanie’s car fade, then disappear, between skeletal trees and towering monuments weathered by time. Lido whined at my side, antsy and agitated as they left, and I scrubbed a hand over his head.

“I know, buddy,” I muttered, turning away from the road to unlock the office door. “We’re in big trouble.”

***

Melanie arrived earlier than I’d expected, welcoming herself into the office without so much as a knock on the door. She was comfortable here, comfortable with me, and that filled me with a sense of pride I could barely begin to describe.

“Stormy and Charlie are putting the kids to bed tonight,” she told me with a wag of her eyebrows.

“They’re okay with you coming down here?” I asked, watching as she passed over the threshold and into the office, then closed the door behind her.

“Who?” She glanced over her shoulder while putting the mugs down on the desk. “The kids or Charlie and Stormy?”

I pressed my back to the office door and shrugged. “I don’t know. Both, I guess.”

“The kids are just happy to spend more time with Uncle Charlie. They don’t see him that often, and being around him …” Melanie hesitated as she smoothed her hands over her thighs. “I think it makes them feel closer to their dad. They’ve never said it, but … it’s just the feeling I get.”

“I can understand that,” I murmured with a nod, even as my brain focused on how infrequently the kids saw Uncle Charlie. Did that mean my chances of seeing them were also lessened?

“As for Stormy and Charlie,” she went on with a long-winded exhale, “Stormy is … well, Stormy is way more of a hopeless romantic than I thought she was. Let’s put it that way. And let’s just say, Charlie’s my brother, and he’s feeling a little more brotherly than he was a few days ago.”

A chuckle pushed its way up my throat. “So, he wants to kill me, is what you’re saying.”

The corners of her lips twitched, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “He hasn’t used those exact words, no, but he did make it a point to mention that he wouldn’t be opposed to taking another life under the right circumstances.”

I reared my head back. “Another? Charlie—”

“It’s a long story,” she cut me off, taking one step, then another, toward me. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Or maybe he’ll tell you himself … if he ever likes you again …”

The taunting look in her eyes. The playful curve of her full, glossy lips. Her strawberry-blonde hair, thrown over one shoulder, leaving the slender expanse of her neck exposed. Her body language was open, every part of her begging for something only I right now possessed the ability to give.

I growled, reaching out to quickly grab her around the waist and tugging her toward me, a movement so swift that she shrieked, swinging her arms around my neck to steady herself as she fell flush against my body.

I spun us around, pressing her back against the door and planting my hands on either side of her head with a noisy slap of my palms.

Lido—the clueless oaf—looked up from his bed beside the desk, lazily lifting his head for a moment to sigh audibly, as if to say, Oh, these two are at it again , then dropped it back to his paws.

With her arms held tightly around me, Melanie rolled her head against the door to turn toward the sleeping dog, a giggle bubbling past her smiling lips. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Lido. Are we disturbing you?”

The dog couldn’t answer, of course, but I didn’t either. My attention was fixed solely on her beauty, my mind unable to think of anything but how perfect she was, even in her imperfections, and, God, it left me stupefied and speechless.

She shook her head at the dog, turning back to look at me, catching the expression in my eyes. Her gaze softened, her smile faded, and she asked, “What?”

I swallowed, brushing my knuckles along her cheek, then cupping her jaw. “Just thinking.”

“About me?”

There was nothing I could do but laugh. “You’re all I seem to think about these days.”

She uttered a small sound, contemplative and thoughtful. “Yeah,” she said softly, standing on her toes and leaning further into me. “I know the feeling.”

“Oh, you do, huh?” I touched my forehead to hers.

“Mmhmm. I—”

Lido interrupted abruptly with a continuous bark that startled us both. Melanie gasped, pressing herself against my chest, and my arms wrapped tightly around her as I turned to the angry dog.

“What’s going on, buddy?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and steady.

He turned, aiming his bark toward the window above the desk.

I laid a hand on Melanie’s lower back as I looked over my shoulder, peering toward the window.

The cold outside conflicted with the heat within the office, causing a sheet of condensation to form over the windowpane so I couldn’t see anything.

“Do you think someone’s out there?” Melanie whispered.

“Probably not,” I said, but could I be certain? God knew I hadn’t been watching the cameras.

She had provided the most delicious distraction in the best and worst ways, and I hadn’t paid attention to what was happening outside these walls, caring more about what I could do with her.

Lido’s barking continued, and I checked the lock on the door, making sure it was secured before turning my attention to the computer monitor.

I hurriedly scanned the screen, observing each smaller tile of video for a split second before moving to the next.

Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

But Lido kept barking, the hairs along his back bristled and his teeth bared.

“What do you hear, boy?” I muttered, grabbing the mouse and enlarging the video footage of the office.

“Do you see anything?” Melanie asked from behind me, and I was ready to tell her everything looked perfectly normal, perfectly as it should be, until the footage scrambled and speckled, like an old TV from my childhood.

What the hell?

“Is that normal?” she asked, her voice pulled taut with fear.

I shook my head, backing away from the screen. “No.” I grabbed my coat from the back of the chair and my handgun from the desk drawer, securing it in the holster at my waist, and threw the coat on as I went to the door. “Stay here.”

“Do you want to take Lido?”

I glanced behind me to find my four-legged friend sitting at her side. He’d stopped barking now, but he was on alert, ears perked and tongue panting. On a normal occasion, he would follow me, but tonight, he was making the decision to stay with her.

I nodded with approval. He’d made the right choice.

“Keep him with you. I’ll be right back.”