Page 63 of Colton's Last Resort

“What happened?”

“The truth’s too ugly to speak here,” he grumbled.

“Where else could you speak it?” she asked.

Turning up the glass, he swooped down the rest of the wine and reached across the counter to place it in her deep-basined sink. He gripped the edge of the counter, bracing his feet apart. “Her mother was killed, too. Her father did it, right in front of her, before he shot himself.”

“Oh,” Laura uttered. She closed her eyes. “She never... She never told me.”

“And you’d never know.” He gave a shake of his head. “Even as a kid, she was all sunshine and rainbows. She had this raggedy stuffed bunny she carried around by the ear. There was nothing anyone could say to convince her it wasn’t alive or that it should be washed or thrown away. She called it Mr. Binky.”

Laura found she could smile after all. “You wound up in the same home she did.”

“I’m not sure what would have happened to her if I hadn’t.”

“Why?”

He hesitated again. “She didn’t have anyone else.”

“Your foster parents—”

“—didn’t give a damn. I was fourteen when I went out and got my first job. I had to. Otherwise, Allison and I wouldn’t have eaten. I had to teach myself to cook. There’s nothing more motivating than that pit in your stomach—that one that’s been there for days because someone drank away the grocery budget for the week. I was scared the reason Allison’s cheekbones stood out was because she’d gotten used to that feeling. She was so used to it, it wasn’t remarkable to her anymore. She’d just come to accept it. So I worked, and I cooked so she’d never have to know what hunger was again.”

“I had no idea it was like that for her,” Laura said.

“In that home, nobody hit us,” he explained. “Nobody snuck into our rooms at night. Nobody screamed at us. But there’s a different kind of abuse and that’s straight-up neglect.”

Laura had felt neglected, too, but not like that. It wasn’t the same. Her father’s indifference didn’t compare to being left to starve or fend for herself.

She had starved, she realized. For his approval. For affection. After her mother died, she’d had to learn to stop. Men had disappointed her, even those before Quentin and Dominic—because she’d half expected their approval and affection to die off, too. She’d taken the safe route out every time.

“Allison told me the same thing she used to tell you,” Laura mused. “That I don’t live enough. Smile enough. Put myself first enough.” Suddenly, what she’d told Joshua the day after Allison’s body was found rushed back to her...

I think you two could have made each other happy, at least for a time, and... I don’t know. All this reminds me not to waste time if you know what’s right for you...

Behind him, she saw the blue glow of the pool through the glass door to the patio. Air filled her lungs, inflating her with possibilities. She set aside her glass and rounded the counter. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“What?”

“Let’s swim, Noah,” she said, grabbing his hand. She tugged him toward the door. “Just you, me and the moon.”

“Wait a second,” he said, trying to put on the brakes. “I didn’t exactly bring a bathing suit.”

Be brave for once, Laura, she thought desperately. Buoyed by wine and a spirit she’d ignored too long, she told him, “Then I won’t wear one either.”

Noah’s eyes lost their edge. His resistance slipped and he turned quiet.

She slid the door open and stepped out into the cold. “Don’t worry,” she said when he hissed. “The water’s heated.”

He stared at the steam coming off the surface, then at her as she took off her socks and untied the drawstring of her loungewear pants. “So we’re doing this,” he said.

She frowned at his jacket and boots. “Are we?”

When she shimmied out of her pants, his brows shot straight up. He shrugged off the jacket one shoulder at a time. “I can’t let you swim alone.”

“And you say you’re not a hero,” she said, pulling her shirt up by the hem so that she was standing in the cold in her gray sports bra and matching panties. She shivered, dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest. “Hurry up, Steele, before I lose my nerve.”

The jacket hit the ground. He grabbed his T-shirt by the back collar and pried it loose.

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