“This early in the morning?” She shook her head, amazed. “Gaming addiction?”
“No.” He returned the phone to his pocket. “I usually forget to charge it. Honestly, half the time I forget to take it with me. Not many people are tracking me down, anyway.”
In fairness, she didn’t get many texts, either. People tend to stop reaching out when you continually withdraw from them, which she did during her marriage in order to hide Mark’s illness. Since his death, just getting through the workday had drained her energy, so socializing had been infrequent.
“I can wait. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here and familiarize myself further with the facility and grounds.” He glanced toward the lake.
“Of course I don’t mind, Alec.” It was the first time she’d said his name, which rolled softly off her tongue. He turned sharply toward her and stared, making her light-headed. When their gazes finally broke apart, she dropped hers to the floor, hoping staring at her feet might reset her balance. What just happened? Clearing her throat, she said, “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.”
He nodded, watching her with an expression she’d almost describe as penitent. “I’ll be waiting.”
The moment called for something—a handshake, a quick hug—yet she faltered, doing neither.
As she turned to go, he touched her arm. “Colby, I promise to do everything I can to make this place thrive.”
She looked at his hand, which lingered on her forearm, and felt her doubts subsiding. This was Alec, after all. Joe’s death had opened a distance between them, but deep down he might still be the quiet guy who’d used her as a guinea pig in his earliest days of experimenting in the kitchen. The one who’d endured her and Joe’s childhood antics without much complaint, unlike her own brother.
The look in his eyes persuaded her that they could bridge the gap between the past and present with a little effort. “I’m sure you will.”
Alec waited until Colby strolled out the door before exhaling. God, that had been difficult! His feelings for her had always been complicated, even before his mistakes with Joe and Mark.
She’d been an open, enthusiastic kid—a bit of a tomboy, her light-brown ponytail bouncing behind her. Dirt-stained clothes had hung from her thin frame as she dangled from trees. She and Joe had followed Hunter and him everywhere, begging to join them in the tree house, or wherever else they’d bike off to.
His favorite trait, though, had been her big heart. He recalled when she’d been about ten and had cried after overhearing their mothers discussing Mrs. Cannon’s breast cancer. Megan Cannon had only been thirty-six and had two young sons at the time. After drying her tears, Colby had asked for Alec’s help to create a unique pink lemonade she could sell on the street to raise money for the Cannons. The negligible income she’d earned paled in comparison with the awareness and goodwill she’d inspired. Other neighbors then sent the family food and cards during Megan’s chemotherapy, and everyone rejoiced when she survived. To this day, pink lemonade reminded him of her.
Then puberty hit. Granted, it hit most girls earlier than Colby, which had caused her endless angst. Having viewed him like another brother, she’d griped to him about her boyish figure, mostly when she’d sat in his mom’s kitchen watching him cook.
Of course, he’d never viewed her as a sister. Barely three years older than she was, he’d battled his growing attraction. Her ready smile and straight white teeth, the intelligence in her cat-shaped hazel eyes, and even the long, lithe line of the body she’d wished were more curvaceous had appealed to him. Not that she knew it.
He’d buried his affection behind the bright line of friendship. Well, except for that one rainy afternoon. That surprising stolen moment when, seeking escape from his father, he’d gone to the tree house to read and found her there crying.
“What’s wrong?” Alec set his book on a milk crate before collapsing beside her onto the musty, quilt-covered mattress on the floor.
An intense surge of delight gripped him thanks to the rare opportunity to spend time alone with her. Raindrops tapped against the roof, awakening the earthy scent of the Oregon forest around them. They sat, shrouded amid the mismatched garage-sale tapestries he and Hunter had hung on the walls. It would almost be romantic if not for her tears.
“Danny broke up with me to date Janey Thomas and her double Ds.” Another tear trickled from her eye.
“Danny Wilcox is an idiot who won’t even know what to do with Janey’s double Ds.” Alec bumped shoulders with her, hoping to make her laugh. No such luck. “You’re too good for him, Colby.”