She watched as he moved his thumb over hers. “They were shocked that you would cover their lunch—and bring out all that extra food.”

  “They have no clue I have a thing for their mom.”

  Autumn glanced up. “Are we crazy for trying this?”

  He knew what she was talking about. “I think we’d be crazy not to.”

  She nodded and faced the sunrise. “So? What did you think? Did you like Caden and Taylor?”

  “I did. They were exactly what I thought they’d be—great kids. You’re lucky to have them.”

  Letting go, she began building up a pile of sand in front of her. “You never wanted children?”

  “I did, but—” he nudged a crab, causing it to burrow deeper into the sand “—we couldn’t.”

  Quinn could tell she didn’t want to be rude enough to ask, so he volunteered the answer to what she had to be wondering. “Sarah had infertility issues.”

  “Oh, I had no idea—of course. I’m sorry.”

  “I haven’t told anyone except my parents. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed or feel...less than.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you.”

  “It was also a little selfish,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to make my own situation any worse. I think not being able to conceive was a big part of her unhappiness.” He’d been disappointed, too. But he’d been so busy trying to convince her he didn’t mind that he could never admit it.

  “That would be hard for someone who wants a family. Did you ever consider adoption?”

  “I wanted to adopt. I tried talking to her about it several times. But she refused, said it was too much of a gamble—that we could end up with a demon child. And if I tried to push the issue, she’d assume that I wasn’t happy the way we were—that she wasn’t enough for me—and it would start a fight.”

  “I know things went bad at the end. But...were you ever happy in your marriage?”

  He thought back to the beginning. It hadn’t been so terrible then. “Our marriage was going along pretty good until we started trying to have a family.”

  “I see.” She lifted a fresh handful of sand and let it run through her fingers, building her pile that much higher. “So...would you like to have a child at this stage of life? I mean, if you find the right woman?”

  He nudged her. “Are you checking to see what you might be getting into?”

  Her eyebrows slid up. “My youngest is sixteen, Quinn. That would be a big decision.”

  “Stop thinking so far down the road. You wouldn’t have to have my baby. That isn’t a prerequisite to what I hope will happen between us.” Unable to resist any longer, he pressed her back onto the sand, pinning her beneath him. “But I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to.”

  He expected her to say that she couldn’t make any promises. He’d said he’d take things slow. Talking about having a baby together was not taking it slow. Wanting to peel her clothes off right now wasn’t taking it slow, either. Even if she couldn’t feel the pounding of his heart, he had no doubt she could feel his erection. But she didn’t shove him off. Their gazes locked for several seconds. Then she said, “It feels like I’ve been in love with you my whole life. How am I supposed to resist that?”

  The relief and excitement that poured through him made him both weak and strong at the same time. He’d never experienced such a strange but heady sensation. “I hope you won’t even try,” he said and lowered his head to kiss her.

  * * *

  Autumn was making love with a man who wasn’t her husband on the beach. Her top was pushed up, her shorts and swimsuit bottoms had been kicked aside, and Quinn’s lower body was between her legs.

  She’d never done anything like this in a public place. There was no one else around, but still. Nick had been far too proper for public displays of emotion, let alone touching her in a more sexual way outside their bedroom. As a matter of fact, toward the end he’d become so preoccupied with his work that they’d often go a week or longer without any intimacy at all. She needed this. She wanted this. But part of her was horrified that she could be reckless enough to ignore propriety. She wasn’t a teenager anymore.

  Briefly, she thought of stopping, but it was far too late for that. She was completely carried away, drunk on desire, and she already knew she’d never forget this experience—Quinn’s soft T-shirt beneath her serving as their only scrap of blanket, the briny scent of the sea filling her nostrils with every breath, the waves rushing up to curl around their ankles.

  And Quinn, of course, who was no longer a boy.

  As much as she’d allowed Nick to make fun of what she’d done that day in Quinn’s tree house, it was still one of her all-time favorite memories. But this second experience was on an entirely new level. This time Quinn was fully engaged and making it clear how badly he wanted her. Since he’d been only half-interested before, she felt a small sense of victory. But at the same time, she knew she’d lost the battle she’d been waging against herself, that she’d severed one of the last ties that bound her to Nick: her fidelity.

  As she tilted her head to give Quinn better access to the sensitive skin below her ear, she wondered if she’d regret what she was doing. Was she destroying something precious? She’d always considered her marriage to be sacrosanct, had never imagined it coming to an end via an act of desire for another man, especially on a beach in her hometown. On some level, she still loved her husband.

  But Nick was becoming part of the past—a memory that was fading—and Quinn was alive and well and capable of touching her, laughing with her, sharing the here and now.

  She closed her eyes as he pressed more deeply inside her, reveling in the satisfaction it gave her while letting her hands move over him, feeling the contours of the muscles that contracted beneath the smooth skin of his arms and shoulders and back. She wanted to memorize every detail, just in case this was the only time they’d be together like this before regular life intervened and tore them apart. She didn’t trust what was happening; it was too good to last.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his breath hoarse.

  Their lovemaking had escalated so quickly that she could understand why he’d be uncertain. It had only been a few minutes since he first kissed her. But the second she’d tasted him, she’d known she didn’t stand a chance against the rush of desire that overwhelmed her. She’d slid her arms around his neck, fisted her hands in his hair and deepened the kiss herself, allowing it to turn hungry and demanding, and the clothes had come off from there.

  The last thing she wanted him to do was stop.

  “I’m good,” she gasped. “This is...good.”

  The white of his teeth flashed in a grin. “Thank God,” he muttered.

  She tried to laugh but didn’t have the breath for it.

  “We’ll go slow after this,” he joked, referring to what he’d said earlier, and again she tried to laugh.

  “Just make me forget,” she said as the tension began to build, promising an incredible release. “Make me forget everything.”

  When she said that, he surprised her by pausing to smooth the hair out of her eyes. “There’s nothing to forget, Autumn,” he said. “You’re not doing anything wrong, and I’m not out to take anything away from you, to ruin what you had with Nick. I just want you to trust that what we could have together might be just as good.”

  After that, he became singularly intent on proving to her that she certainly wouldn’t be missing out on anything in the bedroom. And when he was done, she had to admit—he’d turned her into a believer.

  17

  The first thing Autumn saw when she got home was Nick’s rain boots in the corner of the apartment. She stared at them for a long time, battling a sudden upwelling of guilt, despair and uncertainty. What had she done? She’d had a wonderful, intimate experience with another man, after which they’d both dressed and sat side by side on the beach to watch the rest of a gorgeous sunrise. She’d felt so close to Quinn. There’d been nothing cheap or tawdry about what they’d done. Their lovemaking had been moving and intense and hopeful—promising. It had made her feel as though there was new life and happiness ahead, in spite of everything.

  But had she just been unfaithful to her husband?

  As other evidences of Nick’s existence and his rightful place in her life began to jump out at her—his business books and legal tomes next to her novels on the shelves, the picture of their family on the dresser and the knowledge that the drawers in that same dresser held his shorts, T-shirts, socks and underwear, which she’d washed and folded countless times—she wondered what she was going to do.

  She couldn’t stop seeing Quinn. It felt as though they belonged together.

  Grabbing her cell phone, which she’d put on the nightstand when she left because she was afraid her children might randomly check on “Where’s my iPhone” and know she wasn’t home, she called Mr. Olynyk using WhatsApp.

  “Alo.”

  “This is...this is Autumn Divac.”

  He switched to English. “Of course.”

  WhatsApp had, no doubt, already announced her identity. “I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks, and I...I thought I’d check in, see how things are going.”

  “I am afraid I do not have much to report, Mrs. Divac. I am sorry.”

  After making love with Quinn on the beach she didn’t know whether to be disappointed, as usual, or relieved. That was how torn she felt between the man with whom she’d had two children and the boy she seemed to be falling in love with all over again. “That friend you mentioned before, the one you said might’ve seen my husband several months ago. Did you ever speak with him?”

  “I did. He led me to another man who is part of the Azov battalion near Travneve, a small town along the eastern border. This other man believes he spoke with your husband almost eighteen months ago—in the fall, so not long after Nick arrived in this part of the world.”

  Her stomach tightened into knots. What did she hope to learn? Did she want evidence that would indicate Nick was alive and might still be coming back? Or did she want proof that he wouldn’t?

  That she could even consider the second question made her feel terrible—intensely disloyal—not only to Nick but also to her children, both of whom wanted and needed their father back.

  She stretched her neck, trying to cope with the stress. “And?”

  “He said your husband was asking about weapons he believed might have come from Rostov.”

  Rostov was a military base in Russia. She knew that much from the research she’d already done. Only thirty miles from the Russian border, it had been in the news before. “That’s where the Russians used to train separatist fighters.”

  “I believe they are still doing that. But they are so focused on getting the European Union to ease the sanctions that are crippling their economy they must be very careful.”

  “Does either of the men you spoke to have any idea where Nick might have gone after he visited Travneve?”

  “No. And I cannot find anyone who does. My associate has been circulating Nick’s picture along the border towns, since that was where he was last seen, but so far no one has come forward with any new information.”

  There’d been over 13,000 killed since the conflict began. So many people. Was Nick one of them?

  “It’s almost July,” she said.

  “Yes. What would you like me to do?”

  When he’d called her before, she’d told him June would be her final month.

  Closing her eyes, she let her head drop back—and heard the door open downstairs. Someone was coming.

  “Just through June,” she reiterated quickly, and hung up as her daughter came into the room.

  “You’re awake already?” Taylor asked, obviously surprised to see her up and fully dressed.

  Autumn hadn’t stripped off her swimsuit since returning from the beach. It was dry because she and Quinn hadn’t gone in the water—they’d been more intent on remaining joined, if only by their hands, while watching the sunrise. She was pretty sure they’d both been surprised by the intensity of their lovemaking and how close they felt afterward. They’d hardly spoken a word when it was over—just enjoyed the companionship they’d both been missing lately. “I was thinking about going for a swim. But since you’re up, we could go to the beach and do yoga instead, if you’d like.”

  A frown tugged at Taylor’s lips and creased her forehead. “I don’t think so. Not this morning. I didn’t sleep well.”

  With her own words to Mr. Olynyk still echoing in her ears—only through June—Autumn sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. She’d effectively cut off the search for Nick, and Taylor and Caden didn’t know it. Maybe she should’ve discussed it with them first. Asked for their input. They were all part of the same family and had a stake in Nick’s coming home, too. “Come here. Is there something wrong?”

  Taylor looked troubled when she said, “Did you like Sierra?”

  “I did,” Autumn replied and meant it. “She seems smart, savvy, nice. And she looks out for you. I saw her take the last bit of lasagna on her own plate and then slide it over to you. She said she was too full when she gave it to you, but I was watching her. I think she was protecting it to be sure you got enough, since it’s your favorite meal. That was pretty special, proof of how devoted she is to you.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that, too.”

  “That had to have felt pretty nice. We could all use someone looking out for us, right?”

  “It is nice,” she admitted. Autumn finally saw a small smile appear on her daughter’s face—but it slipped away as she sobered again and said, “Have you ever had a friend like that?”

  “A best friend? Sure. I still keep in touch with some of the girls I knew in high school and college, but I married young and had you right away, and when my focus changed, we drifted apart. It’s hard to keep up with long-distance relationships, especially once everyone gets on with their life and everything gets so busy.” She bent her head to catch her daughter’s eye. “Why? What’s going on? Don’t tell me you and Sierra had a fight.”

  “No. We aren’t fighting. She just said something that’s sort of bothering me.”

  “Last night at dinner? What was it?”

  “It was after dinner, when I walked her out. She said that she was different, and that you could tell.”

  “Well, I noticed the tattoo and the piercings right away.”

  “So you didn’t like them.”

  “I’d want you to wait until you were older to make those kinds of decisions, but I’ve never believed that sort of self-expression means a person’s bad in any way.”

  Taylor stared down at her hands while digging at her cuticles. “What if it’s not just the piercings and the tattoo?”

  She’d lowered her voice, but fortunately, Autumn was still able to hear. “What do you mean?”

  “I think she might be...you know...not like most other girls.”

  “You’re saying she’s different in more than the way she looks?”

  She nodded. “I—I think she might be...into girls.”

  “A lesbian.”

  “I can’t say for sure,” she said quickly. “She hasn’t come right out and said that. I just... I think maybe that’s the case and wonder what you’d think if she was.”

  “Well, let me ask you—do you believe people choose their sexuality?”

  “No. But even if some do, I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “So you wouldn’t care if Sierra was a lesbian.”

  Autumn struggled to choose the right words. This obviously meant a great deal to her daughter. “I’ll tell you what’s important to me.”

  Taylor pulled back the curtain of her hair, tucking it behind her ears so that she could see. “What’s that?”

  “Is Sierra a good person?”

  Taylor began to blink quickly, which led Autumn to believe she was fighting tears. “She’s the best person I’ve ever known.”

  “Then she must be a great friend.”

  Taylor nodded. After a sniff, the sheen of tears in her eyes disappeared, and she seemed much happier. “What if I get a tattoo?” she asked.

  “Before you’re eighteen, you mean?”

  “This summer.”

  Autumn put an arm around her daughter and gave her a squeeze. “That I might have a problem with,” she said, and they both laughed.

  * * *

  Mary was manning the register when the phone rang at the store. Autumn hadn’t arrived yet, but Laurie was rearranging the back room to make space for a large shipment they were expecting this afternoon.

  “Beach Front Books,” Mary answered.

  “Is this...is this Mary Langford?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. It was a woman, and she was fairly certain she recognized the voice. But she couldn’t believe what her brain was telling her. She thought she was just being paranoid. So she answered. “Yes...”

  “This is Tammy.”

  Mary almost dropped the phone. She’d blocked her number when she called the Skinners’ daughter, but Tammy wasn’t calling her cell. She was calling the store, which meant Drake D. Owens had lied when he’d said he’d protect her identity. Not only had he given Tammy her assumed name, he’d told Tammy where she worked, and it made sense—after all, Tammy had paid him to find her.

  “Please...don’t hang up,” Tammy said when Mary hesitated.

  Mary glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not with Laurie around. She told Laurie almost everything, and she would probably tell her about this, too, but later, once she’d had a chance to process it herself—not when she was filled with panic that everything she’d worked so hard to protect was now compromised.