She wrinkled her nose at him. It was hard to see, but they were close enough that although he couldn’t count every freckle on her face, he could still see most of her facial expressions. “How do you know?”

He glanced down at his feet. “Because I came out here to drink, and I left the bottle. See.” He picked up the whiskey, which still had about a quarter left. “I forgot to grab it. My arms were kind of full, anyway.”

Her lips twitched. “So what? Thirty paces toward the water kind of thing? And then X marks the spot?”

“Give or take. The tide will be a little different. So your rock of salvation may already be under water. Head down to the water line.”

Yanking in a deep, fortifying breath, she tossed her shoulders back and almost marched toward the water.

He considered letting her go alone, but after she was about twenty feet in front of him, he decided to join her. Holding on to the bottle so he didn’t forget it again.

She reached the edge of the water, navigating the slippery, seaweed-covered rocks with ease. “I barely remember the swim,” she said quietly, more to the faraway boats bobbing as no more than spots of light in front of them. “I remember being pushed. Feeling hands on my shoulders. I remember falling and the painful plunge into the icy water. And struggling. Thinking I was going to die. But the swim is a blur. It was like I fell into the water. Kicked out of my dress, then I woke up on your couch.”

She turned to face him, her expression stricken and sad. Glancing down at the bottle in his hand, she reached for it. He let her take it. She unscrewed the cap and took a long pull. “Ah. Do you think the theory of it being my dad is too far-fetched?”

“I don’t think any theory is too far-fetched at this point,” he replied, making sure his tone was even, but also encouraged. “Maybe your aunt—the one who took you and Rocco in—has fallen on hard times, and they came up with a way to get money? Trust me, my head has gone in a million different directions and cooked up a million different scenarios. Your dad being the mastermind behind all of this isn’t that far outside the scope of possibility. Particularly if he had help on the outside.”

Her head bobbed, and she focused back out on the water for a moment before taking another sip from the bottle. He took it from her and took a healthy sip himself.

“I haven’t spoken to my aunt or uncle since I moved out when I turned eighteen. Literally the day after my birthday, I was out of there. And I certainly haven’t kept up with their lives or my cousins’ lives on social media. They send me friend-requests all the time, try calling and emailing, but I block all of it. They wanted nothing to do with us when we needed help the most—only taking us out of obligation—and now that I have money, they’re suddenly eager to be a big, happy family? Not going to happen.”

“Healthy boundaries are important.” He took another pull off the bottle before she grabbed it from him. “They’re not boundaries,” she said with a touch of venom. “They’re mile-high fences to protect everything I’ve built. To protect Rocco—the only family I have left.”

She finished the bottle, and he took it back from her.

“The last thing my father said to me ...” She lobbed a sarcastic laugh. “Was that this wasn’t over and I’d pay for betraying him.” Facing Clint, she closed her eyes and shook her head, then pinned her gaze back on him. “I almost forgot about that. It’s been so long and nothing has happened until now that I figured he was rotting away in prison and couldn’t touch us.”

“I wish I could do more to help you. To assist in the investigation. Flush out the person who pushed you. Go rattle your aunt and uncle’s cages.”

She stepped forward, and he welcomed her, wrapping his arms around her waist while her arms rested on his shoulders. “You’ve already done so much. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.”

His pulse picked up speed again as heat filled his cheeks and chest. He’d known this woman less than a week, and yet he felt like he’d known her for a lifetime. Her sweetness with his daughter, her fire and self-awareness. She was humble and honest. But also, strong and determined. The way she protected herself and her brother ... It said so much about who she was at her core. Hollywood’s sweetheart, absolutely. But she was so much more than that. She was a fighter. Resilient against the storms.

They still had no idea of their timeline, or how long she would need to stay in hiding. But now that the police issued the statement to the press that they found “her” body, he knew it was only a matter of time until they caught the killer. Then what?

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her.

He didn’t want to ever say goodbye to her.

“I don’t want this to be a temporary thing,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Even in the light of the partial moon, he could see her eyes go wide.

“I know I ran when you brought it up before ... and again, I’m sorry for that. But ... maybe we can figure something out?”

Her smile soothed the sting of trepidation that had been like pinpricks on his heart. He wasn’t somebody who played head games, and yet he felt like that was all he’d been doing with Brooke. She made him crazy in the head in the best kind of way.

He hadn’t felt like this about anybody in a long time, and he didn’t want this feeling to go away. Not for anything. Sure, he was terrified. And there was so much unknown his brain was developing hives, but he was also excited for the first time in a long time. Excited to wake up in bed next to someone. To share his life, home, family and heart with another person.

She nodded. “I don’t want this to be a temporary thing, either. But, let’s just focus on finding out who tried to kill me, then we’ll go from there.”

Only slightly deflated at her response, his head bobbed, and he pulled her back against him. She went willingly and rested her cheek on his chest.

He wasn’t sure what kind of a response he expected. Which was probably why his heart hurt.

Maybe he hoped for a bit more enthusiasm from her? Or a concrete answer that yeah, she wanted to see where things went with them, too. But he didn’t blame her for not throwing her hands in the air and whooping for joy. Especially not after his reaction last time.

Heat crept up his neck. He was still ashamed of his earlier behavior.