She shook her head. “Not tonight.”

  A moment later, he was sitting beside my mother. We chatted about the usual—the weather, day-to-day stuff, and work.

  I sensed my father was more than his usual version of distracted. He seemed stressed. My mother had gotten up to get the lasagna out of the oven, and I asked, “Is everything okay, Dad?”

  He was quiet for a beat before he replied, “I don't know.”

  My mother—because she had bat ears as I’d dubbed them when I was a kid—turned quickly as she walked over with the casserole held atop an oven mitt. “What is going on? You've been distracted since this morning.”

  My father took a quick breath. “Well, I don't know actually. Do you recall I was on the board at Archer’s company years back?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Back when his parents ran it, I was on the board. It was a perfunctory duty, frankly. Anyway, I had an email. I expected some communication with the changeover to Archer. But this wasn't that.” He paused, his eyes dipping down.

  “What is it, Dad?” I couldn’t have said why, but my gut pinged uncomfortably.

  My mother set the lasagna down on the table before plunking down in the chair beside him.

  “Archer’s great-uncle is threatening to call out that loan,” he added.

  “What loan, Dad?” I asked, genuinely confused. Of course, that gut feeling intensified at the mention of Archer’s great-uncle.

  My father sighed. “I made some bad investments, and we were in a bind. At the time, I made a bad decision.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took out a balloon mortgage through the company. I thought I could make things up in time. I've been negotiating the loan, but Clint is demanding the balloon payment. I just don't have the money.”

  “I'll talk to Archer,” I said immediately.

  My father’s eyes narrowed. “You will not.”

  “Don't be ridiculous, and don't be stubborn about this,” I protested.

  “Well, I have some pride. I don't feel comfortable asking my new son-in-law, who I like and respect, for money. I still remember him as the little boy who smeared blue paint all over the walls in the garage.”

  “It wasn’t just him,” I returned.

  My mother rolled her eyes, and I smiled, thinking of that day we’d come across cans of paint and had some fun with it. My smile disappeared quickly.

  “What kind of payment are we talking about? I asked.

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” my father said, his tone dry as chalk.

  “But what does this have to do with the board?”

  “Because of my connections there, I asked for some advice. Clint set up the loan through some option they offer to employees.”

  “Clint is bad news,” I said.

  “Well, he's always been nice to me.”

  All the while, my mother was quiet. I stole a glance at her to see the worry in her eyes as she traced her fingers over the nubbled surface of an oven mitt.

  “But Dad…” I hesitated because I didn't feel comfortable sharing what I knew about Archer’s great-uncle. I hewed as closely to the truth as I could without revealing any of that. “Archer does not trust him, and I can't help but wonder if him doing this now has something to do with me marrying Archer. Clint’s really upset about losing control of this division. Dad, please let me ask him. I won't ask him for the money, but let me ask him what's going on. I’m sure he can help sort it out.”

  My father had been quietly drumming his fingertips on the table, a sure sign he was nervous. He was a fidgety man and fiddled more when he was nervous. “I don't mind you asking him, but I am not asking for money. I want to make that clear.”

  “I understand that. I’ll talk to him tonight.”

  My father nodded, the littlest bit of relief crossing his face. “I'd appreciate it if we could figure this out. I've been making the payments regularly.”

  “Dad, you're not a rich man. You're a biologist.”

  My father shrugged, and my mother squeezed his hand before announcing we needed to put a pause on this conversation. “We can’t solve it now, so let’s not dwell.”

  I couldn't help but notice my father didn't dig into his dinner with his usual gusto. I left that night, resolved to talk to Archer as soon as he got home.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Archer

  I turned into my driveway, my weariness lifting when I saw the lights from the house glowing through the darkness. Phoebe's car was parked inside the garage when I pulled in. With everything going on, I was in the midst of major restructuring with the local offices in Anchorage. That meant long days. I was trying to only go to Anchorage two or three days a week, so I wasn't gone too much.

  It felt so good to come home to her. Not that I had any doubts, but every single day when I drove home tired from these meetings, the second I turned into our driveway—I loved thinking of it as our driveway—I felt a little lighter. She always made sure there was something to eat even though I told her she didn't have to.

  A moment later, I was entering the kitchen. Phoebe was sitting at the counter, a glass of wine in hand, and her feet hooked around the legs of a stool. She smiled over at me. “Hey.”

  As soon as I had my shoes off and coat hung, I crossed over to her, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss. “Hey, how was your day?”

  “All right. Yours?”

  “Busy.” I glanced around the kitchen. “It smells good, but I don't see what you made.”

  She smiled. “My mom made an extra pan of lasagna for you. It's in the oven.”

  “Oh, wow, seriously? I remember your mom's lasagna. It’s amazing.”

  “It's my dad's favorite, so she's constantly perfecting it. Do you want a beer or some wine?” Phoebe asked.

  She stood and rounded the island to fetch a bowl from the cabinet before pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

  “I can get my own beer, you know,” I said as I opened the fridge and pulled one out.

  A few minutes later, I moaned after another bite. “This is so good,” I said flatly after I finished chewing.

  Phoebe smiled over at me. “I know.”

  I sensed she was waiting for something. I took another bite before asking, “What's up? You look worried.”

  “Finish eating.” Her voice was a little too bright, and I knew she was concerned about something.

  “I can eat and listen.” I took another bite and circled my free hand in the air.

  Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath. After that, she sipped her wine. “Okay, here's the situation. Apparently, my father used to be on the board at your family’s company.” I nodded. “And he made some bad investments years ago. He needed to refinance my parents’ house. I don't know exactly why, but he did some kind of direct financing loan program through the company with your uncle.”

  “What? There's no loan program through the company.”

  “Well, my father says there is, or I guess there was. There's a balloon payment coming due, and he got an email from your great-uncle saying that if he doesn’t make the balloon payment, Clint is going to repossess their home.”

  I had just taken another bite and swallowed quickly before leaning back. “No.”

  “What do you mean, no? My dad is really embarrassed for me to even say anything to you about it.”

  “I will pay off your parents’ house if this is a real thing. But I don't think it is.”

  “My dad won’t let you do that,” Phoebe said, shaking her head.

  “Sweetheart, we're going to figure this out. It's my uncle, so I'm guessing it's some kind of bullshit. He's probably trying to get to me through you by extension of your parents.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip before she let out a shaky sigh. “We can figure this out, right?”

  “Absolutely. I'm not going to call Clint because that’ll tip him off. No matter what, I won’t let him manipulate your dad like this. I promise.”

  Phoebe stood from her stool and was around the counter in a flash, throwing her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed. “I told them you would figure it out.”

  “I will.”

  She pressed an enthusiastic kiss on my cheek before dropping her arms and sitting down across from me again. “Okay, sorry. I wanted you to be done eating before I told you. Are you stressed out?”

  “I'm pissed about the situation, but this is a manageable thing. If he was doing something off the books with the company, that's not okay. We don't have a loan program like that. I would know by now.”

  It didn't ruin my appetite because it was a solvable problem. When I lay in bed later that night, though, my mind turned over the situation. It rankled me that he was going after Phoebe’s parents to get to me.

  The following evening after a call with Rhys, I decided my best option was to fly to Seattle. I didn't want to leave at all. I was going to miss Phoebe, even if it was only for a few days.

  “I don't want to go,” I said honestly. We were in the kitchen again, our usual place to eat together.

  Her big blue eyes held mine, a flush cresting high on her cheeks. “I don't want you to go.” She paused and finished the last swallow of her wine. “This is weird for me.”

  “What's weird?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “All of this. I didn't expect to fall in love with you.”

  My heart thumped against my ribs. “Is it all that surprising?”

  She looked down at her empty wine glass, tracing her fingertip around the base before lifting her eyes to mine again. “I guess not.” Her gaze arced around the kitchen. “This is your old kitchen.”

  “Uh, yeah.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

  “It’s fancy now, and you’re rich.”

  I reached for her hand, where she was starting to nervously trace the edge of the counter.

  “Phoebe. You were my best friend before, and I never forgot you. We still have that.”

  “I think it's a little different, Archer.” Her voice rose several octaves at the end as the flush on her cheeks deepened.

  “Well, yeah. Is that so bad?” I pressed.

  Her hair swung when she shook her head swiftly. “I'm just— Now, you're flying away, and I'm going to miss you.”

  “I promise I'm only going to be gone as long as I need to be to deal with this.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “I think Clint probably made a personal loan to your parents and made it seem like it was a company thing when it really wasn't. He didn't have the money to loan, though, so that means he embezzled the money from the company. Have your parents heard from him again?”

  “Just one more email from him reminding them that they need to deal with it soon,” she said, her words coming out in a rush followed by a shaky sigh.

  “Were you planning to tell me that?” I asked gently.

  Phoebe shrugged. “I didn't want to talk about it. My parents are pretty uncomfortable about it.”

  “They shouldn't be. My uncle did something illegal, and it's not okay. We're going to fix it.”

  Phoebe took a quick breath, then squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”

  “I'm going to miss you too.”

  “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

  “I'm hoping only a few days. I think I should plan on a week to be on the safe side.”

  “A whole week?”

  She looked as dismayed as I felt. “Yes, but I’m hoping I can resolve it more quickly than that.”

  She let out a short sigh and squeezed my hand again. “Fine. I don’t like it.”

  “You can come with me,” I offered.

  “No, I don’t want to do that. I want to be here for my parents because they’re kind of freaking out. My dad's looking at his retirement funds and figuring out how much money he can pull out and things like that.”

  I nodded. Even though I wanted her with me for the sake of her presence, I didn't want her with me for this. I knew I was going to be dealing with Clint more than once. I suspected my panic was going to rise like a high tide. I’d already texted the therapist I'd seen in Seattle before, planning to check in with her while I was there.

  “Should I drive you to the airport?”

  “I don't need—” I began.

  “I want to,” she pressed. “Or are you taking a private plane?”

  I chuckled. “No, I'm not. That's really bad for the environment. Flying, in general, is bad enough.”

  Phoebe giggled. “It is. I'll drive you there tomorrow.”

  “My flight leaves at four in the morning.”

  “Perfect. It'll be an adventure.”

  “Yeah. I love getting up that early. It feels like the rest of the world is asleep.”

  I gave her hand a light tug. “Come here,” I murmured, gratified when she stood and immediately rounded the counter.

  Her hands rested on my knees as I pulled her closer. “We’ll straighten this out, and then I'll be back.”

  She nodded as her forehead fell to mine. “Promise?” Her lips moved against mine.

  “Of course.”

  Then we were kissing, and I forgot about everything but Phoebe.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Archer

  “I told you this was sketchy,” I said to my cousin.

  Rhys was pacing in front of the windows. “I knew my granddad was an asshole. I honestly never thought he would do this.”

  “Really? Not much surprises me with him.”

  My cousin stopped pacing and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he studied me. My hips were resting against the edge of his desk, and my arms were crossed.

  “He moved some money from one dedicated retirement account for the company where we kept investment funds into his own personal account and then made loans. Phoebe’s parents have been paying him directly. Except it goes into a bank, so they think it's a company loan. What do you want to do about it?”

  Rhys leaned his head back as he stared at the ceiling for a moment before he commenced pacing back and forth in front of the windows. “I don't fucking know.”

  “We can definitely charge him, but I don't know how you feel about that.” That was what I wanted to do, but I didn't want to press my cousin too hard yet.

  He took a breath. For the first time, I sensed his trepidation. “I don't fucking know,” he repeated.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked again.

  He stopped pacing. “I think we should charge him. It's an easy case. He's gotten away with a lot. He might as well face the consequences for something.”

  “I think we need to talk to Gram first.”

  Rhys stared at me for several beats, surprising me when he asked, “What do you know that I don't?”

  “About what?” My stomach turned over, and I instantly felt sick as that staticky panic filled my chest. I wasn't going to have a panic attack, but I knew what my cousin was asking.

  “About my grandfather. Do you know what happened with my brother?”

  Oh, fuck. This was getting real, more real than I ever imagined. It was one thing for my cousin to know my uncle had been physically abusive to his brother. But I was pretty sure Rhys didn't know about the rest, and it was ugly. I also worried I might find something out that I didn't know. It felt as if a reckoning was right here in this room with us. Secrets were heavy, and I didn't want to keep someone else's secrets anymore.

  “Archer?” my cousin prompted.

  I held his gaze for several beats before taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

  “Yes, I am. I sense you know something I don't.”

  My heart thudded, and I tried to breathe slowly. “Okay, I know your granddad used to beat your brother.”

  “Yeah, that's not news,” Rhys said bitterly. “He was rough with all of us, but he took more out on my brother. I always figured that was why Jake ended up drinking himself to death in college.”

  “I'm sure that was part of it,” I agreed. “Look, are you sure you want me to tell you everything I know?”

  “Just fucking tell me,” he said flatly.

  “Your granddad got rough with me a few times, but it was just physical. But the worst time was when it started—” I felt sick and had to swallow through the nausea and the bitter acid in my throat. “I walked in on him. He was with your brother in the office. I was ten at the time, so Jake was eleven.”

  “What the fuck was happening?”

  “He was raping him.” A strange sense of lightness slid through me as if saying the word out loud to someone other than my therapist instantly lifted the dark, heavy weight inside. The lightness didn’t feel good. I literally felt light-headed with my brain buzzing and my chest tightening.

  Rhys stopped his pacing. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes flew wide. “I'm sorry, what?”

  “Your grandfather was raping Jake.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I don't want to get into the details, but I'm positive, and I hope you believe me.” I still felt sick, but a sense of calm settled over me. I was simply speaking the truth.

  The part that stood out the most powerfully was the look on Jake’s face. It was as if part of him was checked out. Even though I didn't know this part with certainty, my gut told me what I saw wasn't the first time it had happened. There was a look of resignation on Jake’s face, along with a blankness to his expression. It was as if he had accepted it and was almost disconnected from the moment.

  “Oh, my fucking god.” Rhys stumbled as he stepped toward his desk chair, spinning it rapidly and plunking down on it.

  “You didn't know this?” I asked.

  He was deadly quiet for a moment, and then his breath came in heaves before he shook his head slowly. He met my eyes. “I did wonder, but I never saw it. Jake never told me. Oh, my fucking god.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching to rest my hand on his shoulder as I pushed away from the desk.

  I let it fall when he straightened. “I'm okay if you’re wondering if I can breathe.”