Two nine seven. Was it an area code? He looked it up on his smartphone. It was the country code for the island of Aruba. That was where Kenzi was born. And Kent, her twin, who had died. He read the entries before the torn-out pages again then the ones that followed.
His aunt might have needed phone numbers in Aruba to call and see how Sophie was. After all, his mother had been admitted to the hospital for almost a week when Kenzi and Kent had been premature.
Patrice didn’t sound like someone who would call to comfort her sister.
Lance read the entire journal again, this time earmarking pages that referenced his family. When the streetlights came on and it became difficult to read, Lance closed the book, returned it to his computer bag, and got back into his car. He’d have someone look into those numbers. They were probably nothing, but he couldn’t shelve the journal until he knew for sure. No, he didn’t have the type of security Dax and Asher required, but he had people.
He drove home, stripped, and took a quick shower before flopping on his bed in his lounge pants. Only because he couldn’t not do it, he texted Willa.
I’m sorry I upset you.
When there was no immediate answer, he tossed the phone onto the bed beside him. She’d asked him to stay away, but he couldn’t. He had to know she was okay.
His phone beeped to announce a new message. Willa. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left the way I did.
He answered, I’m not sorry I kissed you.
Silence.
He added, I can’t pretend I don’t want you. That’s how I know the difference between you and your sister. You’re the one who reduces me to a bumbling idiot.
Her answer tore at his heart. I can’t do this. I got your flowers. Don’t wait for me, Lance. I won’t change my mind.
He sighed. If she hadn’t kissed him the way she had, he would have been able to accept the finality of her words. She’d clung to him like a returning lover who’d built up a hunger as deep as his for her. There had to be a way to reach her. He almost texted her again, but instead called her.
“Lance—” she said in a panicked voice.
“Willa, don’t hang up. When I look back I see a hundred ways I screwed up with you. The biggest mistake I made was rushing you. I hurt you, and I can’t change that. I can promise it’ll be different this time. If you give us a chance, we’ll go as slowly as you want to.”
“I can’t . . .”
“Tell me what you need, Willa, and we’ll start there.”
For a long moment all he heard was her shaky breathing. “I want to be happy, Lance. I don’t know if I can do that if I open a door to the past.”
“Then we start fresh today.”
“You say that like it’s possible.”
“Anything is possible, Willa, if you want it enough. Do you? Want this?”
He held his breath.
“Yes,” she said softly. “And no. Oh, God, I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I can’t think.”
If he were beside her, his arms would be around her. He used what calmed him to reassure her. “When I start a new project, I don’t design it in one day. I know what I want to build, but creating it takes time. I focus on one element before addressing the next. In the end, my structures surpass safety standards. In earthquakes, other buildings fall, but mine stand. The strength is in the details.”
“And what do you want to build with me?” Willa asked just above a whisper.
“If you’re asking me where this will go, Willa, I don’t know. What I do know is, whatever we have is too damn real to walk away from. That’s where I want to start. I simply want to be with you.”
“I don’t know, Lance. There’s so much—”
“There isn’t, Willa, because I met you for the first time today. Remember? I was the hot guy you bumped into on the street. We took one look at each other, and it was instant lust. I kissed you. I couldn’t help myself. You slapped me and told me I was out of line.”
Lance was rewarded with a chuckle. “You’re crazy.”
“I sent you flowers. You spent the day thinking about how gorgeous I am . . .”
“In my fantasy you’re a little more humble.”
“Your fantasy.” Lance sighed. Finally. “Tell me your version.”
After a quiet moment, Willa said, “We met on the street next to the capitol building. I didn’t know you were the one who had been awarded the contract. You asked me what I thought about the project. I said something that you found so amazing you wrote it down. You said something that made me laugh. We found a coffee shop and talked until it closed . . .” Her voice trailed away.