Page 57 of The One for Forever

I can’t remember the last time I went so long without logging in to my work email or doing research for upcoming cases. I’ve always been ambitious. The kind of person who can’t sit still without some kind of goal or project. Rex and I are alike that way. I’ve rested my brain the last few days, just as Lana ordered.

But my heart? That’s been getting a workout, because Rex has been in top form. So freaking charming and wonderful it’s hard to believe he’s real.

I check the alarm panel, which shows the system is activated. While it feels like we’re on vacation here, Rex is still treating this as a safe house, and he talked me through all the security protocols I’m supposed to follow.No leaving the house without him. No answering the door. There’s a panic button and a gun safe where Rex keeps his weapons. He changed the settings so my fingerprint as well as his will open the lock.

He mentioned there are cameras aimed at the road and the beach to monitor anyone coming and going. But he keeps the cameras around the house itself off whenever it’s occupied.

Rex must be around here somewhere because I can’t imagine he left me alone. He’s still my bodyguard.

Of course, we’re so much more than that now.

Rex has been cooking for me. Cuddling and napping with me on the couch. We can sit quietly on his patio for hours together until the sun sets over the ocean. I’m still avoiding screens because they don’t make me feel well, so we listen to music instead. He’s introduced me to some of the jazz greats. Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk. I’ve played my favorite indie singer-songwriters for him, and now he’s into Phoebe Bridgers.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s been plenty of kissing and touching. Full-body snuggles that almost turn to more. But it’s a slow build of tension and anticipation. Longing looks, when I feel like I’ll get lost in the consuming desire I see in his eyes. He’s as eager for me as I am for him, while also making clear that he wants more with me than some hot, forbidden hookup.

He wants me. I’m still marveling at that fact. Maybe at some point, it’ll really sink in.

I wander through the house that’s already becoming familiar to me. Rex’s family photos decorate the feature wall in the living room. There are a few pictures of Rex and Lydia from when they were younger. Snapshots of Rex with Cliff at varying ages. Even some photos of Cliff and me, like at our high school graduation ceremony. There’s a shot of Cliff, Rex, and me together on the day I graduated from law school.

I’ve looked at these pictures several times in the last few days. But today, I spot one I didn’t notice before. It’s of Lydia, Rex, Cliff and me at a school track meet. Probably the only photo ever taken of all four of us. I remember that day, not long afterthe Eastons moved to West Oaks. Right after my eighteenth birthday. My own parents were gone so much, and I was thrilled that Cliff’s family didn’t mind me hanging around all the time.

I used to hate the quiet when I was home alone.

When Cliff’s mom died, it wasn’t a big sacrifice for me to stay with him and Rex to help out. I genuinely cared for the Eastons and felt terrible about their loss. But now, I wonder how Cliff might view it. Would he think I was trying, even back then, to take the place of his mom?

Ugh, that makes me feel gross to even think it.

For the vast majority of the time Rex has known me, he didn’t see me as anything other than Cliff’s best friend. Now, we’re about to become lovers. What I’ve wanted for so long. Dreamed of. Ached for.

If we don’t work out, could we ever go back to the way we were before? What about Cliff and me? Cliff and his dad?

And what would Lydia Easton say if she knew?

When Rex is right next to me, our connection feels natural. Effortless. Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to end up. I need to find him and stop second-guessing the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Then I hear something coming from the garage, which is off the kitchen. Rex gave me a tour when we first arrived, but I only glanced into the unfinished space. He mentioned that he turned the garage into a workshop of some kind.

Now, I crack open the door and peer inside. Rex is bent over a work table, sanding a piece of wood. His salt-and-pepper hair is messier than usual. He’s dressed in sweats and a Team Triumph T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, leaving his flexing muscles on display. So sexy.

“Looking good,” I say, loud enough that he’ll hear me over the Air Pods he’s wearing.

He looks up and grins, tugging the Air Pods free. “Hey. How are you feeling this morning?”

“So much better.” Just being in his presence makes those upsetting thoughts about Cliff evaporate. “What are you up to?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.”

I pretend to be undecided. “If I come over there, will you make it worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out.”

I saunter over, and he hooks me around the waist, drawing me closer. He brings his mouth to mine. His beard is growing in, and his whiskers are slightly prickly against my skin. I trail my fingers over the bristles. His beard is almost entirely gray, a recent change in the last few years. It makes him look handsomer than ever.

“What are you working on?” I ask.

Without letting go of me, he turns us both to face the worktable. “A hobby. After I finished renovating this house, I needed something else to fill my free time. What little there was. I started working with reclaimed wood.”

I think of all that furniture inside the house made from weathered slats of wood. “Wait, did you make the pieces you’ve got in the house? Like the dining table and the bed in the master?”

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