Page 26 of Ebbing Tides
I bit the inside of my cheek, giving Melanie the opportunity to back out if she wanted to. But I hoped she wouldn't.
She raked a hand through her hair and sighed. “I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't—”
“Why not?” Charlie interrupted, lowering the laundry basket to one of two wingback chairs. She gestured helplessly toward the three kids, and he shook his head. “Don't worry about them. Right, guys?” He swept his gaze between the three boys. “We're gonna have fun. Aunt Stormy went to grab some snacks, we're gonna sled down the hill, maybe watch a movie or something … it's gonna be good, right?”
“Yes!” CJ cheered, throwing both fists in the air, as Danny and Luke muttered, “Sure.”
“Your mom is gonna be gone for a couple of hours, but she's going out with Max. I know him. He's a cool guy.” Chuck leveled me with a warning glare. “Right?”
I nodded. “The coolest.”
“See? Nothing to worry about. She'll be back before it's even dark out.” He looked at Melanie, a pleading look in his eyes. “I'm telling you, Mel, we're fine. Go. Have a good time.”
This exchange was so familiar. So eerily similar to what Grace had said to me before I left the house. I had to wonder what Melanie’s life had looked like in the years since her husband had died. I imagined it looked a lot like this scene in front of me. Mothering three boys. Frustrated. Feeling so alone despite the support system she had, no matter how big or small.
She hesitated, wringing her hands together. I couldn’t see her expression, but her reluctance said all I needed to know. She was scared to leave, and whether that was because of them or me, I couldn’t be sure.
Maybe it was both.
“Are yousure?” she asked, her voice small. Meek.
“Mel,” Charlie said, approaching her with outstretched hands and placing them on her shoulders, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes and breathing her in. I watched the interaction closely, and I guessed that another man might’ve assumed there was something there between them. Somethingmore. Perhaps even something romantic. But … no. No, that wasn’t what this was. They were siblings. Deeply devoted in the way a brother and sister could be. They shared a bond, a special one, one that likely spanned years. Decades even. And it left me awestruck to imagine that, had Charlie not come to work here years ago, she never would’ve had a reason to come.
Our paths likely never would’ve crossed again.
He opened his eyes and looked over her head at me. His gaze met mine, and I saw the malice there. The warning. He didn’t say a damn thing, but I heard every word loud and clear.
I’m trusting you. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t hurt her, or I’ll hurt you.
And although I had no doubt I would win in a fight against this beanpole of a man, I knew he would gladly die trying. For her.
I gave him a single nod, and he offered a terse smile in return.
“You two have fun,” he said, stepping back, stepping away.
Melanie turned around to face me, giving me her undivided attention for the first time since I’d arrived. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with fear and excitement and that same astonishment she’d worn last night.
“Be good, boys,” she said over her shoulder.
Then she brushed past me and led the way back down the hill to my truck, her hips swaying and her head held high.
CHAPTER SIX
I was a different man now than I had been years ago when I first made Melanie’s acquaintance. I was young then. Confident. Untouched by impairment, trauma, and grief. Back then, I’d been awkward, instantly smitten, but I hadn’t beenscared. Not like I was now, sitting beside her in the cab of my truck as we drove toward the heart of Salem. Holy shit, I was absolutely terrified. I was scared of hurting her. Of hurting myself. Of saying the wrong thing. Of overstepping.
But I thought, most of all, I was scared that I would find none of that was going to happen at all. The most frightening thing to me was that we would likely enjoy each other’s company, just as much as we had twenty years ago. But now, we were both alone, both single, and yet … I’d still have to say goodbye.
We hadn’t even started, and I was already terrified of letting her go. Again.
“Can I put on some music?” She gestured toward the touch screen in my truck.
“Oh, sure,” I said. “I have satellite radio, or if you want something specific, you could use my phone.”
“Oh, I’m not picky,” she said, already reaching over to tap her finger against the screen. “I can just hear you thinking over there, and I need something to drown it out.”
I smiled. The playful jab felt good, natural. So, why couldn’t I untie these knots that had formed in my gut?
