Page 57 of SALT

I clench my jaw, not because her idea is bad but because the last thing I want to do is send her away to grieve in someone else's arms, but I'd gladly do it if I knew it would bring her peace.

"Then we wouldn't have anyone to run the shop."

I don't make the comment to be inconsiderate of Cameron, but rather, I want to get back to the reason we are here. Lauren Rhodes and Stormy.

"Are you saying you don't trust my niece to run the store alone?" She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Everett. We were married for over twenty years. Do you really think I would keep a secret niece from you? I can't believe you fell for that."

I was just about to sit down, but now I need a drink. "You managed to hide a nephew from me for almost half that time."

I can't help the way my anger rises with her silence. Silence is acceptance. Evan Graves is, in fact, her nephew. She knew, and she didn't tell me.

"Everett," she says my name with a sigh. "I've never told anyone. Kipp doesn't even know. It was a secret I planned to take to my grave." With my cognac poured, I turn to her, my expression bemused. I may not have been the love of her life, the man she wanted to marry, but out of all the things I could be, the keeper of her secrets was undoubtedly one of them. Secrets are what brought us together to begin with, but I suppose I should have known better. Secretive people have secrets, little ones that grow into big lies. "Who wants to find out their father was a monster? I thought by not telling him, I was saving him a world of hurt. If Evan found out his father was a rapist, the dark cloud that already lingers over him would only get darker. In my opinion, that truth would not set him free. If anything, it would hold him captive."

Evan's truth is one thing. I can sympathize with her reasoning, but she's leaving out something else. She had a damned sister too. "And what about Sage, Evan's mother? What was the reason you didn't tell me the truth about her?"

Her eyes drop to her hands. "By the time I figured out who either of them was to me, we were going through our divorce, and I was tired," her voice breaks as she stands and heads toward the window. I'm sure finding out there was actual fire behind the smoke rumors of her father's infidelity created wasn't an easy pill to swallow. All those years ago, people believed Lauren Rhodes was her sister, born out of an affair. It turns out she wasn't, but someone else was. "I already could never repay you for all the debts I owed. You'd given up so much by the time I discovered the truth, I kept it to myself. I was done being your burden, a mess you had to clean up, a person you had to protect."

I understand that, and if she had told me, I would have taken those words to my grave. I'm sure there's more there, but I don't care to dig into it. What's done is done. We can't rewrite our history. "It's in the past," I say as I grab the baseball sitting on my desk.

She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't believe you hired Lauren."

I quickly abandon the ball to reclaim my drink. "I didn't. Your son did. You've been out of town a lot lately." She averts her gaze. It's such an obvious tell, one I'm currently grateful for because while she's in the mood for giving up her indiscretions, I ask, "What business do you have with Chad Hailsop?"

Her hand covers her heart. "How do you know about that?"

"Parker, he thinks you are cheating on his father," I say indifferently as I take a drink. "Does Kipp know?"

She nods. "Yes, Kipp knows."

"Well, maybe you should consider talking to Parker and Elijah sooner rather than later."

"We planned on telling them at the end of the month." Her eyes find mine. "You know I hate asking you this. I've always hated asking you this… Promise you won't say anything."

My eyes intently hold hers, ensuring she feels the depth of their irony. "Have I ever said anything?" It's curt and lands its mark. "Moira, I think it's time to go. I do have a guest I need to see out, and I'd rather not have my ex-wife in the house when I do it."

Her hand tightens around her purse. "Right, I forgot about that." Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out her keys. "I'll see myself out."

For the first time in over twenty years, I watch Moira walk away and feel nothing. I don't feel the need to dig, pry, or save her. We can tell ourselves we've moved on all we want, but until we can look at them and feel nothing, it's only a wish.

Chapter 20

Cameron

I've been downstairs for thirty minutes, and my nerves are getting the best of me. I pull at the high neck on my summer dress, trying to find relief that I know won't come because it's not the heat getting to me. It's him. Last night was the best night of my life. I've pinched myself twice, literally still unbelieving that any of it was real and not a dream. Not only did I find the strength to go to Everett's room. He let me stay. Waking up with him draped over me was heaven. For a few seconds, I got to bask in him and the night we shared. And then Moira happened. He darted out of bed faster than I could blink when he realized she was seconds from walking in on us. His reaction is what has me uneasy now. We didn't say much, and the things we did say felt honest, but part of me is wondering if they weren't just lust. Years of pent-up longing burst at the seams, and now the regrets we promised we wouldn't have are precisely that: regrets.

My phone pings, pulling me from my dejected thoughts.

Stormy: We'll be there in ten. FYI, his brother tagged along.

The way she says "his brother" instead of using his name has me on edge. Stormy's name precedes her. Nothing is black and white with her. She's the kind of person you should never take at face value, but maybe she forgot Parker's brother's name.

Cameron: Elijah?

I stare at my phone, waiting for bubbles to appear, and they don't, which only makes my anxiety that much worse. I blow out a tense breath and look out the back window. It's probably hot as hell outside but it looks nice, and sitting pool side with a cocktail sounds like a remedy to my current anxious hell. With my mind made up, I head outside and shoot Stormy another text.

Cameron: Come around back. I'm at the pool.

Digging through the fridge in the swim-up bar, I hear a horn double honk, which must mean Stormy has arrived. That definitely wasn't ten minutes, but I don't care. I need company, something to take my mind off the man inside who has yet to make an appearance. A stiff drink sounded good, but I reach for a pale ale instead. They have higher alcohol content, and since I won't be rocking a bikini today, I don't care if I get bloated from drinking beer.

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