Page 95 of For Eva

Oh God,I thought.What if she’s been taken for ransom and somehow managed to steal the kidnapper’s phone and only knows my home number by heart and her fate hangs on whether or not I take this call?

Somehow, this outrageous scenario managed to morph into reality, and I quickly pressed the talk button.

“Denise?” My voice was low and quiet, as if I were afraid her kidnapper might hear me.

There was a pause on the other end, and then the caller spoke. “Hello?”

The male voice sent a tingle of adrenaline up my spine. “Hello? Who’s this?”

Another pause.

Fucking telemarketers.I rolled my eyes and was about to punch the button to disconnect the call when he spoke again.

“Wow, sorry. It’s just so crazy hearing your voice.” He paused. “It’s, um…it’s Danny.”

The tingle in my spine spread throughout my entire body. I opened my mouth to speak several times, but all that came out were a few tiny squeaks from the back of my throat.

“Danny Kincaid,” he continued, mistaking my silence for a simple memory lapse that could be remedied by stating his full name.

My silence, however, had nothing to do with my memory and everything to do with the fact that the only words my brain could process at the moment wereWhat. The.Fuck.

“Eva? Are you there?”

Danny Kincaid.

The name spun like a tilt-a-whirl in my head. I leaned against the kitchen counter to steady myself, managing a few soft breaths, which signaled I was still on the line.

“Just don’t hang up, okay? I…Fuck, this sounds crazy, but I read theRolling Stonearticle, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.”

“How’d you get my number, Danny?” My voice was cold, clipped.

He cleared his throat. “I, um…I saw your new last name in the article and looked you up.”

There was more silence while he waited for my response. But I had nothing to say. After spending the better portion of a year rehearsing all the things I would say to Danny Kincaid after he broke my heart for the second time…nothing.

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue like this. And I know it’s insane, but the article got me thinking about everything that happened and how I never said I was sorry, and I guess I just wanted to say that. To say I’m sorry.”

I took a deep breath and placed my hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “Boys, I need to talk to someone,” I called as I hurried down the hall. “I’ll be in my room.”

I closed the door and sat at the end of my bed in the darkness, the only light a sliver of pale yellow from the house next door cutting through the window.

“Eva, are you there?”

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, Danny. I’m here. What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? Would that make you feel better?”

“No. I mean, yeah, I guess it would,” he admitted. “But I don’t expect that. I just needed to say it. And I want to know that you’re happy. Because I saw you a few months ago in Nashville and—”

“Youwhat?”

How the fuck did he see me?

“I was in town for work. I had no idea you live there. I was at this restaurant, and I saw you with your husband and kids.” Hisvoice faltered. “You waved at the bartender, and I asked her for your name because I couldn’t believe it was you. But it was.”

I swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that formed in my throat at the mention of that horrific birthday dinner. That had to have been when he’d seen me.

“You looked so fucking beautiful,” Danny continued. “And then the article came out and I…I just wanted to know if you’rehappy. Because you deserve to be, Eva.”

I stared at the thin slice of light shining off the wood floor.

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