Page 36 of Infinite

The fiancé part almost made me laugh. Almost. I wrote another email, reminding him I haven’t had a vacation in two straight years. I also told him I’m therefore overdue for a minimum of eight weeks, per my contract. I almost called him and his son an asshole, but I refrained. I am a southern lady, after all. We ended with a compromise, one neither of us isthrilled with. I’m driving back to Charlotte tomorrow to tie up some loose ends, but I’m not staying to play the role of the devoted woman.

Mr. Singleton was less than pleased. His problem, not mine. I glance across at Hale. Mr. Singleton can fire me if he wants. I’m not going to sacrifice Hale in exchange for making Daddy Singleton and his disaster of a son happy. Hale is my priority, not them.

Hale looks from side to side. He even stands and lifts the cushion of his seat before plopping back down. “Humph.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing. I just can’t figure out why it’s so quiet around here.”

I return his wry grin, knowing what he means. Most people can’t get a word in when Trin or I are around. Put us together in the same room and good luck doing more than the occasional nod. She and Callahan were the first to leave, needing to get their babies to bed, and for the moment, I don’t feel much like talking.

Discussing my folks with anyone, no matter how brief, always leaves me with a sense of dread. I wish it weren’t so, but we don’t always get what we want. Case in point, that beautiful man sitting across from me.

I stare at Hale through the flames of the fire pit. As much as I want to help his reputation, I don’t want our time together to end too soon. I’ll work to fix his problems. I’ll make things right again. But this time, I don’t plan to say goodbye so easily.

I rub my hands together. Every problem has a solution. It’s been my mantra ever since I started with the Cougars. No matter how bad the situation or how stuck my players and staff were, I got them out of it. On the legal side, Mason will do the same for Hale. As much as Mason worried he wasn’t the best attorney for the job, he was the best person to put a defense team together.

Tonight, Trin’s family dropped another few mil toward Hale’s legal fees. “Your team needs to fix this and fix this fast. You need more, you say the word.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hale told him.

Mason got word that the prosecution may be dropping more charges than he originally thought. It’s becoming clearer that the feds rushed this case because Hale’s name was attached to it, rather than it was a good case to stand on. I hope so. It’s already been several weeks too many.

A thick fleece blanket drops over my shoulders, forcing me to look up. “You looked cold,” Hale says.

I hadn’t noticed him move, but he’d noticed the start of my shivering. “Thank you.”

The ocean waves beating against the shore have lessened in their demand for attention. I guess the storm that was supposed to hit landfall is veering further away and out to sea. The wind, it seems, hasn’t heard the news yet. It lifts my hair, bringing a large share of leaves scooting across the patio to make a big fuss. I arrange the blanket around my back. With this blanket around me and the sweats Hale lent me, I could sleep out here. Never mind. What I should say is with Hale this close, I feel safe and warm even through the harshest of storms.

Hale added a light jacket over his sweater. He has a blanket, too, but it’s folded over the chair and it doesn’t look as thick as mine. I suppose he’s warmer by the fire, but the cold has never bothered him like the rest of us.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.

I run my fingers over the soft fleece. I recognize it from the pictures Trin sent me when she was deciding how to decorate. But that’s not the only memory stirred by this blanket and the fire between us. “Remember when we used to sleep out as kids? All we’d need is a few blankets, some sweet tea in a canteen, and snacks.”

“Potato chips,” Hale says. “It was usually potato chips, extra salty, and marshmallows we’d roast over a fire.”

I laugh. “Sean always ate the most.”

“He still does. Miss Silvie promised to make me more pot roast, since Sean didn’t leave but one of those little potatoes.”

“She’s always been great about feeding us,” I agree.

“And Owen was always great about checking on us when we’d sleep out. I remember him showing up in the early hours, making sure we were all safe. He’d pull Trin’s blanket up just below her chin. He had this gentle way about him. He never woke her. Came in like a shadow, left the same way.”

“Your daddy would check on us, too,” I say. “I remember seeing his big work boots step into my line of vision. They always smelled like oil and sawdust from all the construction work he’d do and oversee.”

“Sorry,” Hale says.

“What are you talking about? I loved that smell. It reminded me so much of him and how hard he worked.”

Hale pokes at the flames, the aggression he uses alerting me something is up long before he speaks. “Daddy didn’t start coming around until much later. When he thought I finally proved my potential and worth.” He pauses, the edge of the stick glowing amber. “Owen didn’t need us to prove anything. He just wanted us safe, and for his little girl to enjoy her time with her friends.”

My hand is twisted in an odd angle. I meant only to adjust the blanket a certain way, not to remain in this position. But Hale’s words froze me in place. I force myself to move it and shake it out, the tension I sense surging instead of lessening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It’s a strange question, but he knows what I mean.

Hale squares his jaw, his expression so harsh in the shadows of the flames, he’s almost unrecognizable.

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